Love Blueprint

By: Lex Morgan

As 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 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.

My soul knew that I deserved to heal but my mind disagreed. My mind said, “who do you think you are?!”, “You aren’t better than anyone else!”, “if you change, you’re forgetting where you came from and abandoning your family.” I listened to my mind because I hadn’t learned to trust my spirit, yet.

As a child, I suffered from nightmares, sleepwalking, urinating on myself at the sight of my mother’s abuser, nose bleeds, and chronic nervousness. As an adult, the nightmares continued, and I was suffering from debilitating depression and thoughts of suicide. I’d also begun to experience anxiety attacks. My heart would race and feel like it was going to jump out of my chest. I was constantly worried that someone was going to harm me, so I was always prepared to fight; I’d become an abuser.

I didn’t realize that a huge part of my suffering was caused by Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The thought of PTSD hadn’t even entered my mind. I’d attributed PTSD with war veterans, not domestic violence, sexual abuse and abandonment. PTSD is caused by trauma, and, my early life had no shortage of that. I thought I could erase the trauma by numbing and forgetting it. I was wrong.

I kept asking God to help me and it seemed as if he wasn’t listening. I thought that He’d forgotten about me. I was angry with Him. I was angry with the world. I hated myself. I was so tired. Tired of lying to myself about “having it all together”, tired of pretending to be a hero for others while abandoning myself, tired of being toxic, tired of fighting myself and my truth.

I knew how to survive but had no clue how to live. After some nudging from amazingly supportive family members and close friends, I began to consider the idea that I deserved to heal. I learned about courage. Courage is how I began to re-design my love blueprint. You see, courage isn’t about being fearless, it’s about doing the things that scare us. Courageous moments are fleeting, so, I’ve learned to act during those moments.

I made one of many courageous, difficult, and empowering decisions. I chose to seek help. I needed to face the truth about my life, but, I couldn’t do it alone. I had no idea that receiving support to face the destruction of my mother’s addiction (which I was convinced was the source of my struggles) would transform my life. An internet search lead me to Families Anonymous (FA); a support group for family members of addicts. Initially, I was terrified to attend a meeting because I’d never heard of such a group and didn’t know what to expect. The group saved my life! I learned that I matter, that its ok to take care of myself and my mother’s addiction isn’t my fault. Addiction doesn’t discriminate, it transcends race, socioeconomic status, religious beliefs, etc. In this space, I learned acceptance. I learned that I wasn’t alone. God was listening. He hadn’t forgotten about me.

In addition to FA, seeking help from mental health and life coaching professionals were huge steps in the direction of my recovery. The decision to seek this level of support introduced me to myself…my real self!

As part of my healing work, there were several difficult healing conversations that I needed to have. The conversations with each of my parents and my mother’s abuser were at the top of the list. I was afraid that my parents would be upset with me for rehashing the past. That they’d reject my experiences or disown me for speaking truths they were ill-equipped to face. I wasn’t sure how I’d heal the trauma caused by my mother’s abuser because he’s deceased.

Since I was too afraid to share my experiences verbally, I used my gift of writing to speak the words that my mouth couldn’t. I wrote each word with the commitment to my healing in the forefront of my mind. I started with my father’s letter. This letter was the most difficult because I’d never been so transparent with him and I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. We’d formed a relationship and I didn’t want to feel like I was losing him, again. I did it anyway. I needed him to know the damage and impact of his absence. I also needed to reveal that my great-grandmother generously shared intimate parts of her life with me. Her truth allowed me to understand his story and to forgive him. I needed to thank him for coming back.

The second letter was to my mom. I needed to express the devastation and impact of her decisions. I needed her to know that I’d learned to understand many of her actions and decisions because I had uncovered the brokenness that she was born into. I needed to acknowledge the things that I honor most about her, and I needed her to know that I’d angry with me. To my surprise, they wanted to discuss the letters. Our discussions revealed brokenness that existed long before I was born. That I was born into dysfunction, I didn’t create it. I wasn’t a mistake. They do love me and always have. I love them, too.

Likewise, I wrote a letter to my mother’s abuser. At first, I wasn’t sure what to do with the letter since he’d never be able to read it. After some thought, I decided that I’d visit his grave and read the letter to him. Initially, when I inquired about visiting the site, I was told that his grave was unmarked and would be difficult to find. For a while, that was the excuse I used not to move forward. I finally decided to contact the cemetery and request

The truth was that I was still being tormented by the trauma of his abuse. He was controlling my life from the grave and I was on a mission to claim my power and release him once and for all. Although I was afraid, I knew that this step was necessary. With persistence and help from cemetery staff, I located him. As I stood reading the letter, tears began to fall. At first, my voice was soft and timid, like a child. As I read on, I felt stronger and more empowered. I cried. I screamed! I expressed everything that I needed to say as a child but couldn’t. I shared how his abuse impacted my life as an adult. I acknowledged the best memories that I had of him. I thanked him for never beating me. I forgave him for not protecting my innocence. I realized that he was simply ill-equipped to protect my innocence because no one protected his. Forgiveness felt freeing. I didn’t have to hold on to the pain anymore. I released him in that moment. One truth and healing experience at a time, I began to re-design my love blueprint and shift the trajectory of my life!

COURAGE is etched onto my re-designed love blueprint. LOVE is etched onto my re-designed love blueprint. FAITH is etched onto my re-designed love blueprint. HOPE is etched onto my re-designed love blueprint. PERSEVERANCE is etched onto my re-designed love blueprint.

I thought that where I came from defined who I was and my worth, or lack thereof. I know better now. Today, I feel profound gratitude because my NOW is evidence that my THEN was necessary. Without every experience, I wouldn’t fully appreciate who I AM. To the person reading this, please know that you are worthy of healing. destroy you. I celebrate you for not giving up! With every healthy and self-honoring decision, we heal and

EMERGE…TRIUMPHANTLY.