Being your own worst critic

I had friends as a child, but not many. I felt different. Maybe it was the colour of my skin, the fact I was adopted into my family with my Mother, possibly it was because I had to put on a brave face knowing that being touched was not normal. I screamed out for attention, for someone to stop it, for someone to take me away. I felt different and I didn’t like it.

Into my teen years I wasn’t the popular kid but my personality wanted that popularity. I remember going to school in grade 7 or 8 wearing a bra and another girl pointing to me and saying “why are you wearing that? You don’t need it” the thing is I did. I didn’t want my small bust to be seen. I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be beautiful. I had enough of school and trying to fit in, so I dropped out at 14 and no one cared.

I started to find people that thought I was cool. High school drop outs, drinkers and drug users, drug dealers and people much older than me. I found my place, or so I thought, in a world of dysfunctional people. By 15 I was having sex with anyone who I thought was the one and who could possibly be the person to save me from this miserable world. Selling drugs and doing illegal activities navigating a life of crime became my norm. I found another group of people that accepted me as I was, broken and damaged, in the carnival. I travelled with them for many years. Just another title to be added to the list; Carnie.

The thing was, I had come from a wealthy family. I lived in a mansion. I was given whatever I asked for. By 23 I was driving a $50,000 truck pulling my house trailer with my small family I had started. I had my children with a man 14 years older than me thinking I hit the jackpot. He was not my type, but he spoiled me and loved me; that’s all that matters right? To be loved? I had no idea my opinions mattered, and I certainly didn’t think anyone else would love me so I settled. The relationship was short lived and being a single mom became my new title.

What happened next was what started my downward spiral in life. I found I was good at playing poker, snorting cocaine and partying hard!! I lived a fast and hard life with no dreams or goals. When I changed my life around I assumed because of my past I had no right being equals to people with a life of value. I was the scum of the Earth in my eyes.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I’m a people person. I can be in a room and people gravitate towards me. Why couldn’t this be the case when I was younger? I had no idea what mindset could do. I was stuck in my victim hoodie wrapped tight not allowing anyone truly into my life. I hid the abuse from people because I was sick of being judged. So I continued my life thinking my people were addicts, drug dealers and people with no drive in life. I never imagined people who had houses, jobs and families would actually like me once they knew what kind of life I lead.

This past weekend was one of great aha moments. I was embraced once again by a community of women with one common desire; to change the world with our stories. That although our stories are similar or completely not we all matter and when we share we learn, and when we learn we grow. We really are the sum of the 5 people we hang out with the most, so I really needed to evaluate those I surround myself with. I am determined now more than ever to grow my business, make a difference in the world and leave a legacy. Tomorrow is not promised and when I am no longer here I want to be remembered as the woman who gave people their voices back.

Mindset is a wonderful thing! Let me elaborate, as you may be sitting there thinking this is all hogwash bullshit. When I started dating my now boyfriend we couldn’t spend the night together because he wakes up at stupid o’clock (430am) and I snore like a freight train and stop breathing on average 270+ times a night. Yes I have sever sleep apnea. Well, I told him I can get the machine, but I already tried it “I simply cannot wear the mask through the night!” I was actually wearing my victim hoodie again. I cant sleep at night because I have nightmares (I do), I can’t wear the mask because I feel someone is strangling me (I did), I can’t go to bed early because I am scared of the night (Iam) see the connections…. I CANT I CANT I CANT!!! Well he started spending the night with me and making me feel safe making sure I kept the mask on, and 5 months later I can say I do wear the mask and actually choose to not skip a night without it. I go to bed with him because I want to. I rarely have nightmares and if I do I choose to cuddle up next to him to feel safe. Instead of I can’t I choose and I do.

I have also taken off that victim hoodie and burned the darn thing! We are not our trauma, however we are what we choose to do about it. Yea I got dealt some pretty shitty cards, but I don’t want to dwell on it. I will talk about it because I believe sharing our stories help others, but instead of as a victim I share as a survivor thriving in todays world! I have friends who give meaning to my life and fill my cup with love.

Are your friends filling your cup or draining it? When you surround yourself with the right people you start to believe in yourself. When you visualize your success you start acting on it, and when you change how you talk you begin to live differently. Instead of saying I can’t next time say I can. The next time you want to make an excuse choose not to.

I leave you with that today and I know if I can change so can you!

XX Badass Bon

Comments · 2

  1. Thank you for your vulnerability. Although your story looks nothing like my own, your words have value to me.

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