Wrong Man, Right Time – My Story and Reflection on Abuse, Healing, & Misogny

Mental Health

I’ve been waiting for the right time to discuss my past experience with my abuser. Waiting for the courage to put it all out there and to make sure I’m indeed ready to have it in print, on the internet.

With the whole Gillette debacle on everyone’s news feeds last month, I thought this might be the right time. Let me preface this story by inviting you to watch the commercial if you have not yet:

We believe: the best men can be’ razors commercial takes on toxic masculinity 

As I watched the commercial, literal tears filled my eyes. As a sister of two young boys, a dance teacher who works with little ones every day, and an abuse survivor, I was moved. It’s like Gillette knew my story and made a commercial that could actually make a difference! I felt so empowered and personally connected to their message. The words “boys will be boys” were said to me by a local police officer after my abuser had smashed the side mirror off my car. A person of authority who was supposed to protect me said the words, “boys will be boys.” Maybe you think those words hold no negative weight and you think that I’m being a whiny, politically correct baby, but in all the times I’ve heard the phrase, it’s used as an excuse to justify disrespectful, disruptive, or just plain rude behavior. If the words “girls will be girls” were used to excuse girls’ disrespectful behavior I would have the same opinion. In that moment with the police officer and in other moments throughout my life, especially the dramatic 3 months with my ex, is when I realized that something has got to change in the way we raise men. 

Taryn’s Truth is not supposed to be political, and I personally don’t feel like politics have anything to do with the Gillette commercial and those associating politics with it have truly missed the point. If your first instinct is disgust and you feel there is an “agenda” against the true-American man (whatever that means), then I want you to take a moment an envision your daughter, sister, mother, or even your grandmother getting grabbed as they walk down a city street. Envision a man threatening them so vividly that they have to drive 5 hours out-of-town to feel safe. Envision them downplaying their own talents and dreams, because their man has to be more important. Envision them shaking with fear as the man of their dreams (so they thought) wouldn’t stop threatening them. Envision them being told that they aren’t as capable as men. Envision them reaching out for help and no one would believe them, not even the authorities.

All of these things are very real and I know, because all those things above are part of my story. The worst part is that this isn’t just a part of my narrative. This is happening or happened to women I know everywhere! I would go to work and it happened to women there. I went to a coffee shop and ended up talking about a woman’s abuser there. I would share something on Facebook and I would have a handful of women reach out and say it happened to them too! WHAT? I couldn’t believe this.

As I began to unravel my story and other women’s stories, I realized that the amount of physical, mental, and emotional abuse was staggering.

My story begins as a nineteen-year-old who was broken, partying daily, having a ton of fun, but living with extremely low self-worth. I wont lie, there were some amazing memories in that college town, and I met some people who I will always be close with, but I also had my lowest points there too.

I had just broken up with my first college boyfriend of three months and had lost some weight (from stress, super healthy right?). I had a lot of new attention from guys and it felt amazing. My lifestyle was work, party, work, party and then….my ex walked into the picture. Boy, was I hooked. He was so masculine and that felt safe. It felt like he would protect me through anything. Looking back now, I realized that growing up my home life was a bit of a roller coaster, so finding that “safe” feeling was a result of living with up-and-down chaos. I still wrestle with life being too comfortable and not being okay with contentment to this day. If life is fabulous right now, something awful must be headed my way soon, right?

Our first year of the relationship was long-distance, which was fun. He was a college athlete, which was also really attractive to me, because that meant he was goal-oriented. He seemed to be motivated about the future and wanted to strive for bigger and better things. After about 6 months, I really thought he was the one. He had shared with me that he was in anger management classes and had spent a weekend in jail for mistakes he had made in the past. He didn’t go into too much detail, but I thought, “hey, everyone makes mistakes, right?” Later on, more information was shared with me, and I realized I had ignored a pretty large red flag. 

At about a year we were in a transitional stage. He got offered to play at the D2 level at Wayne State, and asked if I would come with. At this point I was ready for a change and my grades weren’t good enough to get into any other schools in MN (whoops). I followed him, because ya know, love. Living together was fine at first. As the year went on, I gained confidence in my academic ability, but, I was loosing confidence in our relationship. I started to notice little things like intimacy was lacking. I felt completely unwanted all the time, like I wasn’t desirable or pretty enough. I felt alone. I realized that I had been dating this man (boy) for a year and a half and I knew nothing about him. We shared nothing. I was craving that openness and connection. Thankfully my communication major helped me achieve a lot of that. The Wayne State Comm. Department really saved me in many ways. They were my people. The people I could open up to about what was going on in my relationship and didn’t judge me, ever (love you all).

At the end of our first year living together, we both were unhappy. It was evident, but I was terrified to bring anything up to him. He was the most intimidating person to talk too, so I shut down. I knew he could never see my point of view and deep down I knew that was a big problem. I decided to write it all down and spill my feelings in a letter. We went back to MN for the summer and I left the letter on his bed. He said nothing. In fact, ignored me and disregarded all of my feelings, basically making me feel crazy. I “messed up” by writing it. A couple of days later I left for Australia in the midst of not knowing where my relationship stood. I came back and we still never really talked about it, but I stayed in the relationship anyway. My biggest excuse was that “we always had so much fun together.” Truthfully I just didn’t know who I would be without him. It felt like I couldn’t breath thinking about not having him in my life.

We carried on being together into the next school year. Very disconnected, but still together. We did however, decide to live separately. We thought having our own space would be better for the relationship. Now I know it was just a preparation for the end. The memories are fuzzy at this point, but this is the year that everything changed.

Over the summer prior to the life-changing school year, I had made some horrible choices. I felt so incredibly lonely that I found comfort in old habits like partying and other guys. I can’t blame him for those choices. I should have walked away from the relationship, but I just couldn’t let go 100%. He’d pull away and then pull me back in again. I think down deep I knew that if I were to let go, he wouldn’t have let me.

Flash forward to the school year. I wasn’t happy and we had good moments in between the mess, but my drinking escalated. Not daily, but when I would go out, the amount went up. It was the only time I felt free and one night I felt a little too free, and made a mistake. My ex found out and all the choices from the summer prior started to unravel. To put it lightly, shit hit the fan, and his “other side” came out in full force and this is when I was introduced to what I now know as my abuser.

I can’t repeat the names I was called. It was mortifying and demeaning and because I was the one messing up, I thought I deserved it. I was the screwed up one that wasn’t faithful. I found out later that he was unfaithful throughout our relationship (interesting how that works). All of these mistakes happened while drinking and in order to save myself and the relationship I checked myself into out-patient treatment for 3 weeks. I dealt with some heavy emotional baggage there and when I came out, I was stronger, but still emotionally fragile and I think my ex looked at it as a way to manipulate me. I was the one that needed help, not him, so he held that over my head as a control tactic. I think he felt like some sort of knight in shining armour, but turns out I had learned coping mechanisms to become my own savior.

I was sober for 9 months and as I got healthier, the relationship got weaker. We technically broke up in January, but continued doing whatever we were doing until we went back to MN for the summer. That was the most mentally painful summer I have ever had. It was also the summer that changed my life. I worked with a sponsor and constantly worked on myself. I had my family for support and I spent saturday nights with my mom listening to motivational speakers rather than partying in uptown. I saw my ex maybe 5 times that summer. We would go days without speaking and I remember my heart physically hurting. I still couldn’t let go completely.

When we got back to school, we hung out one night and I gave him a choice. I said I was done living in the grey area and we would either make this work and put our 100% effort into the relationship or we would be nothing at all. I didn’t need him at this point, but after three years together, there was still some love left there. He couldn’t give me an answer, so I decided no answer was my answer. At this point forward I was done!

I felt alive, refreshed, and strong. I was back in my comfort zone. I was super involved in my comm. department, my PR internship, and coaching. I had amazing roommates who supported me throughout everything, including my sobriety. We would go out and have a blast. I realized I was fine on my own. After awhile I decided to talk to other men and go on a few dates. This was the start of the most stressful and difficult three months of my life. Apparently I was done, but my ex wasn’t.

After he realized that he had lost me and lost control of me, the insanity kicked in. It started with threats on social media and trying to intimidate friends or anyone I was possibly talking too. His drinking was out of control. From the outside looking in it seemed as though he was spiraling. I had blocked his number and social media contact with him, so he would email me. One message would say how I ruined his life and I was a slut, whore, etc…Another email would say how much he loved me and would have to kill himself if he didn’t get me back. I was so nervous that he would take his own life that at one point I sent the cops to his house to check on him. My mom had conversations with him to try to get him into treatment. He said he would go, so of course my sympathetic self decided to be there for him, as a friend. It was just more manipulation.

I was talking to a guy at the time and my ex found out. He wanted to talk and I got in the car with him. Looking back I have no idea why I continued to play his game, but I was terrified. He made me tell him the guy’s name and after I finally did, out of fear, he left me in a parking lot all the way across town. I had to call someone else to pick me up. The next weekend I was with the new guy at the bar with friends. My ex showed up and got in his face. The whole baseball team escorted me out of the bar safely thank goodness. He then proceeded to threaten the guy by saying things like, “I know where you live. She’s a psycho, you’re making a mistake. Better watch your back.” That same night, he broke into a baseball house and punched a random guy in the face.

I tried to manage his behavior on my own and even though I knew what he was doing was wrong, I still didn’t know if I should involve the police. I honestly think I was in shock. I had read about women in these situations before, but could NOT come to terms with the fact that the women I read about was now me. My family and friends finally convinced me that the police needed to be involved. I brought proof of all the threats on social media and email. So much proof that I thought they would have to arrest him or do something, but nope. There was no direct threat that actually stated my full name, so their “hands were tied” and “boys will be boys.” There was nothing they could legally do.

After this, calling the cops became a regular occurrence. One night, at 2am, my ex was yelling outside my house, banging on all the doors and windows. My roommates and I were hidden behind the couch dialing 911, because he wouldn’t leave. This happened twice. Still there was nothing the cops could do.

The next couple weeks were filled with more crazy incidents. He burnt my grandma’s table that I had left at his house in a bonfire and emailed me pictures of it. He kicked the side mirror off my car, dented, and keyed it. I had started casually dating another guy and he threatened the guy’s family. He figured out how to call me, even though I blocked his number. I woke up multiple mornings in a row with 100+ missed calls. I had to turn my phone off, because it would vibrate all night. He logged into all my social media accounts and changed passwords, deleted friends, and sent horrible messages to people.

This was it. I needed to do something. I went up to Minnesota for a weekend out of sheer fear, because the behavior was escalating at such a rapid rate. I couldn’t help but think about what he would possibly do next?

The next step was Haven House, a local organization that helps and can give shelter to victims of abuse. They encouraged me to get an order or protection and walked me through the whole process. I filled out the paperwork and a week later, turned it into the judge. Within hours, because of all the proof I had and his prior convictions, the judge granted it and served him the papers the same night. I was free at last.

The following months I carried on and started healing. I was jumpy or as some would say, had PTSD symptoms for almost a full year after everything went on. But, I had an amazing support system. My classmates, my roommates, friends, family. They all were there and I will never be able to thank them enough.

Shortly after, Kyle came into my life. At first, my friends were concerned. Had I healed enough to begin something with someone else? Trust me, I wrestled with this concept for a while too, and while it was a little quick, there was something about Kyle that was too great to pass up.

The way we clicked was organic. It just felt right. He knew what had happened to me a couple of months prior. Instead of turning away and saying I had too much baggage…he helped me heal. He would hold me as I cried. It was never “I” with him, it was always “we.” How are WE going to fix this and oh boy, did I try to push him away. He didn’t budge and I’m forever grateful. It’s like God knew that I needed a blessing after everything I had gone through, so he sent me Kyle. Over two years later, and I still look at him with butterflies, most days (hehe).

In regards to my sobriety….I realized that I was trying to get sober for a person that controlled me and I started the treatment process for all the wrong reasons, BUT I am so incredibly glad I took 9 months to reevaluate my relationship with alcohol. I don’t regret it for one second. I dealt with things I probably never would have, because I was sober and working on myself. For over two years now I’ve been able to enjoy alcohol minimally and not lean on it to cope or for emotional support. Kyle and I both decided that drinking doesn’t need to be a huge part of our lives.

Writing this story took me over a week. Still to this day, I start shaking when I think about it. The toughest part is knowing I was a “victim.” I don’t want people to pity me or feel bad for me. I want to be an inspiration or possibly a beacon of hope for those in abusive situations. I don’t mind sharing my story, but it is so damn difficult for me to identify with the word, “victim.” I feel like a damn warrior! I know I’m not weak, but for me, as a person who prides themselves on their resiliency, it was hard to grasp that I “let” him walk all over me for years. I made excuses for him. I obviously now know better, that this was NOT my fault. This was a part of my path and I firmly believe the strength that grew out of the trauma is how I was able to start my business and maintain a healthy, successful relationship with Kyle.

Let me conclude with a few points about unhealthy relationships and/or abuse:

  1. If they are overly jealous, protective, or judgemental. It’s not love, it’s control. There’s a difference. Some people love to control you, they don’t love you. Most times, because they don’t even know how to love or they themselves are out of control. 
  2. I know that “getting out” is harder said than done. You probably think that you’re the only one that can “handle” your partner’s behavior and that staying is strong. It takes a tough person to work things out, right? If you leave, maybe you’re weak? NOT true! Putting yourself first is the ballsiest move you can make. 
  3. LIFE IS TOO DAMN SHORT. I stayed a year too long trying to manage the relationship, and for what? I couldn’t fix him and you can’t fix your partner either. There’s so many amazing people in this world and there’s a lot of things in this life you can’t control. One thing you CAN control is who you spend it with. Somebody out there will love you the way you deserve and help put your broken pieces back together. 
  4. You will never be enough for the wrong person!
  5. Stop blaming yourself and stop apologizing just to keep the peace. Did that forever just to avoid tough communication or fights. If you can’t have a real conversation with your partner, that’s a problem.
  6. Love takes daily maintenance, but maintenance that comes from both sides. 50/50!
  7. Love is not painful.
  8. Don’t stay just because feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all. Find love in other things or within your beautiful self, instead of putting all your eggs in your toxic partner’s basket. 

In conclusion, the reason why the Gillette commercial means so much to me is because I’ve lived with disrespect, abuse, misogyny, and toxic masculinity. I know the definition for that word, toxic masculinity, is inconclusive and some people think there is a war on men and there very well might be. I do feel for them and understand the dichotomy of societal male expectations. They have to be a handy-man that’s strong, but also gentle and emotionally available. But, I don’t believe that was the theme of the commercial. The theme was to be better men NOT less manly. 

Like the commercial talks about, there are so many men (like my wonderful Kyle) that are making changes in small and big ways. But, “some is not enough.” 

The world doesn’t need less manly men, it needs less misogynistic men.

I hope my story empowers and inspires victims AND abusers to seek help. I do not have any ill feelings towards my abuser anymore. I have forgiven him and moved on. It’s taken years, but I did it. As buddha says, “you can’t have a rainbow without a little rain.”

Thanks for reading!

Much love,

T

 

If you are in a dangerous or unsafe situation, here are a few organizations and numbers you can reach out to:

The National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 

Haven House Family Services Center Hotline: 1-800-440-4633

Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

National Teen Dating Abuse Helpline: 1-866-331-9474

National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-422-4453

Taking Care of Yourself – So Hard, but So Necessary

Mental Health

I took a break from writing last week, because my new business venture and coaching took priority. Also, because I just wasn’t sure what I wanted to say next. I’ve been pondering ways to discuss my business and the challenges I face owning a dance studio. I say the word “challenges,” because unfortunately that’s the way I have been feeling lately. Simply put, I’m overwhelmingly burnt out and a little sick. I can’t seem to escape the kiddos’ germs.

There are beautiful moments in the madness, of course, and I truly am a “glass is half full” type of person, but I will say I am ready for a break!

I want to be that person or blogger that everyone looks to for the best advice on staying positive, business ownership, and guidance on how to build success. I believe I have great tips for all of those things, but I’m human and I would be lying if I said that every single time I get kicked down by life that I let it go and keep going. I do continue moving forward in regards to getting my work done, but it’s done with loads of caffeine, sometimes discontentment, and a large dose of complaining. Sorry boyfriend!

The “show must go on” attitiude is something I struggle with everyday. I don’t make enough time to center myself. I don’t meditate everyday like I’d like too. I continue working on my business at all hours of the night. Because of this, my sleep schedule is far from normal. Even then still, I make sure my obligations are fulfilled and everyone’s expectations are met, but my biggest question lately is…at what cost emotionally, physically, and mentally?

I find it ironic that I picked a career where there are literally hundreds of people relying on me, but I am as sensitive as they come. Despite the strong exterior, I can not have someone upset with me for more than a day. It would eat me alive. I care so incredibly much and the need to please people causes me more anxiety than I’d like to admit. It’s bittersweet carrying that weight, but I also know that running a business, a successful business, takes compassion and empathy. I’d rather be this way than the alternative. I’m slowly learning how to take care of my sensitive soul and even in the midst of all the stress, I do practice self-care, at least a little bit!

  • I spend time by myself. Not often, because Kyle and I live together, but when I get a night where he is away I don’t always fill it with friends or big plans. Instead, the only thing I plan is to be with me. I do laundry, binge watch Hulu, take a bath, bake, drink wine, take on small tasks on the to-do list, or write, like I currently am now. It’s amazing how healing it is for me. After spending all week communcating with kids and parents, the best thing to do for myself is to say nothing for a whole night.
  • I work out. I should work out everyday, but the physical demands of teaching dance at night, make that difficult. I do still make it to the gym at least 2-4 times a week. Yes, it’s to make sure I maintain my girlish figure or whatever, but it’s also for my mental well-being. There’s a difference between the exercise I get teaching and dancing than running and lifting. When I’m on the treadmill or stairclimber I will say positive mantras over and over again. Something like, “You are strong. You are content. You will make a difference today.” Variations of those messages to myself while working out are the reason I don’t go insane.
  • I call my family. Seems obvious, but I don’t do it nearly enough. I think I just try to avoid the feelings of missing them, so I end up calling a little less often. I came to that realization recently, and I’m now trying to reach out frequently simply because I need it. I still need the healing voice of my grandma, the thought-provoking words from my mom, and the confidence boost from my grandpa.
  • I make time for travel. I feel like I have an innate need to travel. This might be overdramatic, but if I don’t hop on an airplane or take a roadtrip at least 2-3 times a year, I don’t think I’d survive. The feeling of experiencing a new place reminds me that there is so much more to do in this life and many more ways to impact people. It’s completing motivating and invigorating. I’m grateful that I had the privilege to travel often as I grew up and I’m blessed that I’m at a point in my life where travel is possible.
  • I’m listening to my body. A lot of times that means saying no more often and taking time to rest. I always used to run, run, run and then I’d break or get physically sick. I’m not saying that doesn’t still happen every so often, but at least I now am recognizing when I need to just have a night of netflix and chocolate ice cream. I love being busy. In fact, I thrive off of stress to the most dysfunctional degree. But, by being self-aware and forcing myself to take breaks, I’ve been able to manage that stress effectively throughout the last couple years.

Things I’d love to work on or practice more often:

Further my spirituality and continue to find out what God means to me. Pray. Read. Do yoga daily instead of once a month. Eat less sugar. Reach out for help when I need it. Let go of things I can’t control a little quicker. Stop getting worked up so easily and taking it out on my poor boyfriend. Last, but not least, never sacrifice my mental well-being. It needs to be a priority, in every stage of my life.

Thanks for reading a very personal entry of mine and I hope you find some peace knowing that we all need to get better at taking care of ourselves. You’re not the only one struggling, but hey, if you’re kicking ass at it…send me some of your wisdom!

Much love,

T

Things I Discovered in Year Twenty-Four

Adulting, Mental Health

Year twenty-five swiftly rolled in today and to be honest, it’s just a normal day. As you get older the birthdays become less exciting, but that won’t stop me from being ethusiastic and positive about what’s in store for the next year of my life!

As each year passes way too quickly, I start to realize more and more just how short life is. Sounds cliche, but I honestly can NOT believe I’m twenty-five! I do grown up things everyday, but it blows my mind how young I still feel. I decided that age is not supposed to feel like anything and I want to cherish that youthful feeling forever. I always get overly annoyed with people that try to grow up so quickly, like slow down! You have the rest of your life to be responsible and “grown up.” I could just kick my young self right now for never being okay with the age I was at. I always wanted to be older. Now, all I want is for time to slow down a little bit.

As the next chapter of my short life approaches, there are a handful of things I discovered throughout the course of year twenty-four:

  1. Everyone is unique and special in their own way, but most of us are replaceable, especially when it comes to a job or career. So, stay humble and throw that entitlement out the window. It won’t get you far, but compassion, resiliency, and authenticity will.
  2. I need to actually care what I put on my skin, especially my face. Having a skin care routine sounded so old and weird when I was younger. Now I realize that the sooner you start using safe and effective products, the better off your skin will be. I recently became a Beautycounter consultant, because of my strong beliefs in this area!
  3. The phrase “love is hard” isn’t what I thought it meant. Love is super hard when you’re with the wrong person. I’ve been there, but now that I have been with the right person for almost two years…it’s the furthest thing from hard! Love isn’t supposed to be consistently lonely, demeaning, or emotionally exhausting. However, love does take daily mantainence and effort from both sides. It’s supposed to build you up not tear you down. The phrase “love is hard” should NEVER keep you in an unhealthy relationship.
  4. College is absolutely the best time of your life. This could easily change as new chapters of my life unfold, but dang do I miss college life. Being sort of grown up, but not fully comitting to it yet. Having a handful of roommates to get ready with in the kitchen as we plan our house party destinations. It was a time where I got to be around so many like-minded people and they truly filled my heart with joy everyday. It was stressful, but the kind of stress that was almost exciting. Because, betweens the papers and tests, there were kick a** parties, random shopping outings, and nights when I needed people and they were right there even when I didn’t ask for it.
  5. Contrary to what I thought growing up, most adults have no idea what’s going on either. I thought in order to become an adult, like some sort of right of passage, that you had to have your shiz in order. I didn’t think all adults knew everything, but I thought most of them were confident in the life they chose and the career path they were on. Not the case! Life is ever-changing and it’s refreshing, but also terrifying, knowing that we all can choose to switch things up whenever we want. Contentment rather than perfection is my goal.
  6. Salads and vegetables aren’t actually that bad. I’m easily one of the pickiest eaters I know, but it’s getting better! This year, I’ve really flown out of my comfort zone and have added a lot more variety to my diet, like lettuce. Sounds silly, but I never used to have lettuce on anything, but here I am now…just a regular old lettuce queen.
  7. I will not sacrifice my passion no matter where I end up. I realized that big changes are inevitable and money does indeed run the world, but you can always find ways to keep things that set your soul on fire close to you. I made a promise to myself this year that I will always continue my artistic passions. I would rather have my hands in a variety of things I love than work a job where I’m helping no one and achieving nothing. When I start having children, I want them to get motivated by watching their mom fulfill her dreams.

There are dozens of discoveries that I probably forgot to mention and I’m sure they will pop into my head as soon as I lay in bed, per usual! In closing, I can’t wait to dive into year twenty-five fearlessly, with a heart and mind that are open to new adventures.

Thank you to those who have been a part of my journery as I learn to navigate myself and this life.

Much love,

T

Long Distance Relationship: Parent Edition

Adulting, Mental Health, Relationship

Firstly, let me start by saying that we DO NOT have nearly enough meaningful discussions about transitioning into adulthood. Especially in regards to the parental relationships, that we still so desperately need. As an almost 25-year-old, I joke about “adulting” with my friends often and we make fun of ourselves for realizing that we really don’t “have it all figured out.” We are seemingly okay with not being 100% okay all the time, and I am a BIG fan of that transparency! But, at the end of the day we are expected to act like adults, pay our bills on time, know how a mortgage works, and what insurance coverage is the best? Do I have those last two figured out? Nope, not really and I guarantee most “adults” my age don’t either.

I will say that I’ve read a lot about how to spend your twenties and that we should “live it up!” Well, in between the anxiety of not knowing what the hell I’m doing and making decisions that will effect the rest of my life, I do indeed try to “live it up.” Usually by traveling or spending time with other individuals my age that hope they figure out this life thing too. My point is there is much debate on how to spend these vital years. Do we find a partner in college and begin our working lives with them, get married, and start having kids, so we don’t become “old” parents. Or do we live it up, travel, with or without a partner, and then start a family in our thirties? Or thirdly, do we live unconventionally with no regard to societal expectations and just simply go where the wind takes us?

Each one of these lifestyles is absolutely okay in my book, but one thing I have found constant no matter what path you take in your twenties and that is we all start having realizations about our parents. Whether that be that we want to be nothing like them, that we wish we hadn’t taken them for granted, or that they are truly super heroes. This year more than ever before, especially with the holidays quickly approaching, I personally find myself grieving the loss of my childhood. What I would give to crawl into bed, eat popcorn, and lay with my parents soaking up their love one last time. Knowing that through all the stress of sports and school, I still had their strength and safe arms to lean on. I took for granted just how much I relied on my parents to bring me back to myself again. Even typing it out now, it baffles me how much they did for me mentally and emotionally as I would face new challenges. A lot of times I would come into the house like a tornado and they would take it. They weren’t always happy with me and I truly think I put them through hell, but their support never wavered.

I technically have been living a part from them for 6 years now, but my parents sold my childhood home and moved to Florida with my two little brothers about a year and a half ago. That transition has been extremely difficult. I want to be happy for them, but I do feel slightly resentful that I don’t have a “home” anymore. I did move away from them first 4 years ago, so in some ways I feel like a hypocrite. That doesn’t take away from the fact that their move has stirred up some emotional turmoil for me. It’s been tough, but also made me ask myself, “how many other twenty-somethings have parents that moved away and they have these same feelings of sadness and grief?” Another question I’ve been pondering is, “when, if ever, are we supposed to feel okay without our parents and will we always long for that feeling of home?” I mean I think I am doing pretty darn good on my own and it’s been an amazing journey starting my own family (getting a dog with the boyfriend), but I still have those times where Kyle can’t give me the exact same “home” feeling my parents did.

Throughout the past year, I have spent a lot of time contemplating what these feelings mean to me and discussing them with others, especially Kyle and my parents. Through those conversations, I’d like to list some realizations that are still evolving, but important and noteworthy:

  • You are entitled to grieve the loss of your childhood. It is not weird to feel incredibly sad that those simple times where your parents made the decisions, are now in the past.
  • Whether you have a good relationship with your parents or not, they impacted you more than you’d probably like to admit! Realizing that they were human and struggling to “adult” just like we are, helps forgive them for the hurt they may have caused or it helps you realize that they didn’t have it all figured out and they still raised a bad ass, right? 
  • The most obvious realization is that we will always need our parents or adult figures, no matter how old we get. They’re an integral part of our lives, to help us with questions about mortgages, purchasing cars, insurance, etc…Lord knows I need the help!
  • Lastly, as young adults, we absolutely should swallow our pride and have real conversations about this more often. Not just placed periodically within the sarcastic rhetoric about how “adult life sucks,” but REAL heart-felt discussions where we open up about our biggest fears and wishes. 

I’m not positive, but I have a feeling many young adults are going through similar situations, like mine, with their parents. So, if you’re vibin’ with what I’m saying, please reach out! Let me know if you have any questions or if you have been there and what you learned along the way.

Much love & Happy Thanksgiving!

T