Love Blueprint By: Lex Morgan
Blueprint: A design plan or other technical drawing. s I began to write this article, my old “friend” fear showed up. “What will people think when they read this story?”, “You don’t have to share your business to be a blessing”, “People are going to look at you differently if they know the truth about you.” My response to fear is obedience. My response to fear is courage. Before I go any further, I must honor my parents. MA, THANK YOU for never giving up. For boldly and courageously agreeing to support me as I share OUR story. DAD, THANK YOU for your unwavering love and encouragement. Thank you for being a demonstration of patience, strength and resilience. To every family member and friend who stands in the gaps and loves me unconditionally, THANK YOU. HERE WE GO… A love blueprint was used to develop my definition of an experience with love. Every relationship and how I experienced them began with my original love blueprint. My first memories of my parents were dysfunctional. My mom would tell me that my dad was coming to pick me up and he’d never come. I remember waiting by the living room window for hours watching cars go by…waiting. I needed him during those years. I needed him to rescue me. When he didn’t come, I felt abandoned. My mother’s lifestyle choices made it hard for me to feel safe. Domestic violence was a regular occurrence. I was scared all the time. When she didn’t leave her abuser, I felt like she chose him instead of my safety. I felt abandoned by her, too. ABANDONMENT WAS ETCHED ONTO MY ORIGINAL LOVE BLUEPRINT. To cope with her pain, my mother developed an addiction to crack cocaine. She didn’t feel powerful enough to leave her abuser, so she stayed and numbed her pain. I learned to cope with the abuse that I witnessed by shutting down, collapsing into myself and staying out of the way. For one reason or another, she kept going back to him. I didn’t understand because she was so beautiful, and, I thought she deserved so much better. In time, confusion turned to anger and resentment toward her for not leaving. I’d developed a strong dislike for him because of his behavior. I wished that he would go away and never come back. Those experiences taught me that love hurts and its “ok” to be hurt if the abuser apologizes, buys gifts and promises that there won’t be a next time; there was always a next time. Without anyone to protect me, I was left vulnerable to abuse, too; I was sexually molested for the first time at about 3 years old. My mother’s addiction, abuse and the abuser’s broken promises taught me that I wasn’t worth protecting. PAIN AND DISTRUST WERE ETCHED ONTO MY ORIGINAL LOVE BLUEPRINT. Because of our dysfunctional and unstable home life, my siblings and I
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were separated for a period and sent to live with different family members. It was nice to have a place to go and family willing to take me in, but, I wanted to be with my siblings and mom. Loneliness was a big part of my life. LONELINESS WAS ETCHED ONTO MY ORIGINAL LOVE BLUEPRINT. Many times, I thought that maybe if I hadn’t been born, everyone would be happy because they wouldn’t have to take care of me. I’d been conditioned to believe that being my mother’s daughter was an embarrassment. I internalized that shame and believed that if I was one of her decisions, I must’ve been a mistake too. My emptiness sent me out into the world looking for ways to prove my worth to someone. Anyone. The absence of a sense of self-worth sent me down a destructive road. Being me wasn’t good enough to be loved, so, I became whoever I needed to be to get what I needed. I’d become quite skilled at masking my pain, or, at least I thought so. I was so heartbroken, lost, hurt, angry, and confused. I became a people pleaser because I thought that if others were happy with me, they’d love me. Sexual assaults, promiscuity, teenage pregnancy was all part of my quest for love. I learned to use my body to gain the attention that I so desperately needed. I compromised myself and my safety to fit in. Alcohol, drugs, violence, gossiping, sex, masturbation/pornography, partying, shopping, and judging others whose failures seemed bigger than mine were some of the ways I learned to cope; I’d learned to numb my pain, too. My shame and secrets were killing me, but I couldn’t allow myself to see it. I didn’t want to acknowledge these things because doing so would require me to be accountable. Accountability meant that I’d have to face my life, baronesses, pain, decisions and consequences. I’d have to apologize to those I hurt and offended with my actions. Honestly, I thought it’d just be easier to stay hidden. Safe. My upbringing made statements like “You can do whatever you put your mind to”, seem like an outright lie. I thought that I could fill the gaping holes in my heart and soul with people, places, things, and experiences. The voids in my life were much larger than any material thing, person or experience could fill. Everything seemed to disappear into the abyss of my soul causing me to seek more and more of the things that threatened to destroy me. Consequently, it didn’t matter that people told me I was pretty and smart and could be anything I wanted to be. The truth is that every act of violence stripped away my innocence and taught me that I was replaceable, unimportant, voiceless, and powerless. If I wanted love, I’d have to prove that I was worthy. WORTHLESSNESS WAS ETCHED ONTO MY ORIGINAL LOVE BLUE PRINT. My original love blue print was used to design a very broken version of me. For many years, I operated in that brokenness. I was familiar with it. Although I didn’t love it, I’d learned to live in it. I was comfortable.
