There’s a part of me that I shut off long ago. I built a wall around my heart. Not consciously. I never felt it go up, so I must have constructed it overnight or something. But it was made of huge ice bricks – ice I could feel between me and anyone who tried to get close, but especially kin.
If you asked, I couldn’t tell you exactly when and how that started.
Maybe it was from the hurt and confusion of being abandoned at 5 years old, unsure if my parents would ever return for me, compounded by the trauma of being told by my mom that they were only coming to get me because my grandmother made them.
Maybe it was the deaths I experienced young, childhood wounds I internalized, or being taught from an early age that my relatives were untrustworthy.
All I knew was, it kept me safe from being hurt. That was how I looked at it.
The wall began to melt a little after I moved to Tennessee. Caring for my mother had been the only life I knew. Whether out of malice or fear, she made sure of that. Devastated by her death and unsure of what to do next, I moved in with my Uncle Don and Aunt Jennifer. That move turned out to be the catalyst for connecting with my family, as first my aunt connected me with that side, and then I reached out to the family on my dad’s side that I had been forbidden to know while my mother was alive.
But still the wall remained in place.
Though everyone I met was good to me, I continued not to trust them on some deep emotional level. Deep down I believed I wasn’t worth their love and I wouldn’t be able to keep it. So, I held a part of myself back to keep it from hurting so bad when they inevitably rejected me.
Then my baby cousins were born.
My wall begin to crack at the birth of baby Anayah, my cousin Lilli’s daughter. She was so gorgeous, and I wanted so much to be close to her! I was completely terrified as her aunt Averi placed her in my arms.
I could feel that I was still holding back. Fear. What if something happens and the family stops wanting me around. I would never see her again. That would be worse. Better to keep a distance.
Then last year right before the pandemic broke, baby Adalynn was born. I had nothing to do but sit and look at all the pictures of the precious new life.
I wrote a poem commemorating her birth. Suddenly, something broke inside me. These are my baby cousins, pure sweet and innocent! I have a chance to invest in their lives; to be a part of nurturing them, to grow closer to their mothers who I also love dearly.
Do I want to miss that because I’m afraid?
The remains of my fast-melting ice wall flowed out my eyes, down my cheeks and away into God’s sea of forgetfulness as I realized with a bolt of joy that I do not.
So this winter when baby Joan was born on my dad’s side, I sent her mother a greeting and a gift. We don’t know each other very well, but I’m learning that there’s a fix for that.
I will choose to love. I will be here now. It is worth it – no matter what.
Have you experienced a time when loving was difficult because of your fears? Did you overcome them? Please share below! I love hearing from you, and sharing our experiences is what makes us a community.
Hi Kelly: Thanks. This is the affirmation of life and its continuance. I felt a similar joy at the birth of Alfred, my niece’s baby. I would like to see the backstory become a poem or two. Best poetic wishes from Finn.
Finn, yes it definitely could turn into a poem or two! Thanks so much for reading, and sharing your own experience 🙂
While I do not identify with the specific situation you mention, I understand other kinds of walls. I particularly like the phrase “a bolt of joy.” This image conveys the power of joy. It hit home for me.
Sherry, that’s wonderful. I’m glad you identified with a part of the post, and I appreciate your feedback!
Thank you for sharing your experience and congratulations for breaching that huge wall!
Thank you so much Gary.
Thank you for sharing your experience
I’m so glad I’ve healed to the point of being able to share with others. Thank you for your kind comments.
Oh, Kelly! This is beautiful and I love the image of the cold ice melting as you started loving the babies.
I know all about the walls we build around our hearts. I built a solid one after my divorce. I didn’t date or even think about dating for a good eight years afterwards. A friend kind of woke me up and told me, “Nobody has the right to take that from your life.” And she was right. I just needed to hear it from someone who loved me.
Here’s to more love in our lives!
Oh Mary Anne – YES. You hit the nail on the head! Cheers to you! Thanks for sharing with me <3
Reminds me a little bit of Ram Dass’s ‘Be Here Now’
That is a high compliment Cameron, since it’s actually a philosophy I am actively trying to follow!
Nice!
Thank you John, I’m glad you liked the post.
Here I am commenting. It seem super easy to me.
Thanks Karolina!