My Self Worth....

I didn't have any self-worth growing up, especially by the time I hit high school.  I didn't think I mattered in the least.  

I have written before about my childhood and how I really wasn't a person but more of an object.  I got in the way like an object, I was used like an object and I was expected to shut up.... like an object.  The sad thing was that I didn't cry over my childhood much because it was normal for me.  I didn't know any better, it was what I thought I deserved.  I truly believed at each instance of molestation or each beating that it was my fault, that somehow I brought it on myself.  I even blamed myself when I was raped thinking if I had not been where I was, had I not been wearing the clothes I was wearing, etc.  And I perpetuated the problem by going on to marry an abuser.... he fit right in with what was "normal" to me.  

Just recently I have reconnected with old friends from high school online.  I never kept in contact with anybody from school.  One of the idiosyncracies I developed throughout life with my view of myself has resulted in me not being a very good friend.  I don't trust people enough to truly let them become part of my life so, I am very warm, loving and kind until they get too close, then I back away.  I looked over my life many times and realized that I don't bond with people like others and have felt that I am somehow deficient.  But then again, my life has been completely filled with motherhood so, perhaps I have a good reason for not investing so much into friendships.  I am getting a bit off-track but, thanks for sticking with me, I do have a point to make.  

In connecting with my old friends I have had several tell me that I was special to them.  One boy who I dated said that he came looking for me three times.  I have been told by several that they looked forward to my smile, that they missed me when I left and that I made a difference in their lives.  Me?  Laurie Lee Crilly?  And I found myself wishing that I knew, I wished that I knew that I mattered.  I thought maybe I would have made different choices in my life.  Maybe I would have cared for myself had I known that I was an important person.  And I found myself wishing that someone had told me that I mattered.  But the voices inside my head repeated the things I had heard while growing up.... the voices I heard told me that I was worthless, stupid, a bitch, even crazy.  I heard them loud and clear and treated myself as such.

Looking back wistfully over life is a waste of time and you know the truly sad part in my story is that someone did tell me.  I have held in my possession the greatest love letter of all time.  I hold in my hand a letter that tells me that I am worth dying for, that I have been crowned with glory and honor, that I have been given dominion and power, that I have an advocate constantly working on my behalf, that I stand clean and spotless before my Lord, that I have a father, that I have a helper, that I have a guide, that I am chosen of God, that I am blessed, that I am a conqueror, that I am above and not beneath, the head and not the tail, that I am favored, that I am heard...... My Bible tells me all of this and so much more.  

I am so glad I now know who I am.

The Girl in the Corner

Who knows the girl

in the corner

drowning

in tears?

Is there one

who would take a chance

and join her there

in a lonely place

where she 

can let

her feelings show?

The feelings

which have 

been pushed back

for so long.

Not acknowledged

but still

they are there

deepening

with age.

If someone

would care

just enough

to reach 

her pool

formed 

by the world

in a foul

selfish mood.

It's no wonder

no one comes.

They put her there

under the waves

of her emotional sea.

Wait!

Someone stopped

to see 

the pitiful figure

in the corner.

Hope

leaps to her heart.

Just a flicker.

It was just

another face

stooping to stare

at the oddity

that is her.

She vows

never to look up

and to hope

again.

The pain

of rejection

is just too much

for her to bear

alone.

She hates

everyone

and will accept

no one.

fear of hurt

hold her there

crying out

lonliness.

In the grave

she does not feel

she will feel

alone.

I suppose

she will go there

for a while.

Fear

Doorbells ringing in your head

bodiless faces in the room

huddled alone inside your bed

you know there's someone after you


Calls from strangers in the night

wanting you for their own

you lay awake in bed and cry 

pretending there's nobody home


You run from a man inside your head

knowing that you just can't win

you see yourself in an alley dead

alone and raped and beaten


Someone's watching your every move

someone's going to come

someone's going to find you

and set you on the run


Someone knows when you're alone

he'll stake his claim on you

someone knows nobody's home

he'll sit and wait for you


Whether real or in your head

the thoughts so reactive

you keep running 'till you're dead

but it's the fear that keeps you captive.

The Mason

I have this friend – he is a mason

And he does such beautiful work.

He is such a good friend and loves me so much

He has made it his duty to protect me.

So sweet of him to think of me this way

He has built this impenetrable rock wall around me

And I recognize so many of the stones.

Each added to the wall at times of hurt and loss.

That one, was when my first love broke my heart

And that one, was when he hit me.

That one I don’t really want to talk about, 

but I remember when he put it there.

I have always been so thankful for my friend and this beautiful wall he has built.

So safe, so secure, all because of my friend.

But wait, what if I want out?

What if I want to run free or to fly?

This beautiful wall not only keeps you out,

But it keeps me locked inside.

Maybe he was not really my friend at all.