I had a realization this morning that has me thinking about this journey I’m on.
Some people are uncomfortable with me sharing my truth. It makes them nervous. It forces them to realize that I will no longer cover for them.
In the past, I always tried to be a peacemaker. I avoided conflict.
That doesn’t work for me anymore.
I’m not going to ignore the badmouthing behind my back. I’m not going to “just let it go.”
If calling someone out on their bad behavior upsets them, perhaps they should shut their big mouths.
If they don’t want me telling the truth about the abuse they continue to perpetuate, perhaps they should stop abusing me and seek therapy.
The perfect family image was shattered years ago. This dysfunction continues because they let it continue.
I cut myself off from these people for a reason. It’s not healthy for me to be with them.
The anxiety and panic attacks are unbearable. I don’t want to live my life walking on eggshells because certain people feel entitled to control me or treat me poorly.
“But they’re your family…”
I hear this quite often from people who are close to my family members. It makes me wonder if they’ve been recruited to hoover me back into the dysfunction. Every time I hear it, this is my response:
So what?
Does being family mean they are entitled to treat me however they want? Does being family mean I’m obligated to tolerate it?
These people have no idea what I’ve been through. Until they’ve walked in my shoes they don’t get to give me their advice.
The people-pleaser inside me was always terrified to ruffle feathers. Now she’s mad. She’s tired of being treated like she exists solely to make others happy or feel comfortable.
Those who are uncomfortable with me speaking up and using my voice should really start looking inward to figure out why this bothers them. It’s not my job to heal their insecurities or fix their fragile egos.
Maybe they need to “let it go.”
Hey Dana Jane 