This part of the letter is written entirely by my inner child except where I responded briefly. I hope you are enjoying this series of blogs. These writings happened eight years into my recovery and after much intensive therapy with my therapist. This is some of the work that really helped me turn my life around. I was able to see that while there was a lot of pain and darkness in my life, there was also much love and light in it, as well this is all very personal to me. I’m choosing to share it in hopes that either the reader or the readers clients will be able to relate to it, and to motivate them to engage in a similar journey.
Written: 06/25/14 – Age: Birth – 6yrs old
Continued Conversation from Part - 3
(LR): I loved spending the night at grandma and grandpas house. I hope everyone knows Randy that I am talking about grandma and grandpa Boyd here. (AR): They do know. (LR): Grandma use to tuck me into bed at night and tell me stories about the “Pixies” that lived in the bedroom. They were friendly and only came out night. She told me they were there to protect me and that they didn’t like the light. I never was afraid because I was with grandma and I knew she loved me and would not let nothing hurt me. Randy you know you didn’t treat her very good when she got older. (AR): Yes, I know, and I am so sorry for that. (LR): Remember how grandma punished you? She’d get up sat and say, “oh you little shit,” he, he, he…. I hated upsetting grandma. When I went too far, I remember how she would put me on a stool in the corner of the kitchen with my nose in the corner. Oh, I hated that. But hated more that I disappointed her. She wasn’t mean and nasty like mom. Honestly comparing the two, it’s more like mom hated me.
Grandpa was so cool too. Man, I loved him. Sometimes he was grumpy, but at least he wasn’t mean. I remember going in his garage with him. He was always tinkering with and fixing things, it’s what he loved to do. I’d spend hours with him in his garage. I’d make a mess out of the sawdust, it was so cool to play in. Then I’d help him clean it all up. He’d give me a block of wood and I’d sit on his drill press drilling away like a woodpecker. He even made me my own little tool tray. Complete with nails, screws, hammer and screwdriver. I loved spending time with him.
Hey, Randy do you know what was really cool? Remember when he would take us to work with him at “Matlin Benson” and the old wooden hand truck? He’d give us a ride all over the shop and introduce us to all the workers. Man, that was so cool.
Aunt Jeanie (dads’ sister) was cool too. She used to take us to the Halloween Carnival at the school by their house. I always wanted to win goldfish in the ping pong ball toss. I think I might have won one or two times; I can’t really remember though. Remember the play she got us involved in at the YMCA down by the “Pike” in Long Beach? We had to recite the ABC’s using a fruit or vegetable to represent each letter. Man, I was so scared and nervous. No one forced me to do it, they just encouraged me with positive words.
I really don’t know what else to write Randy. I know we spent time with moms’ side of the family, however even though we did things and had some fun, it was different. Randy, they were not loving and kind like grandma and grandpa Boyd. They had a darkness about them. They were grumpy and mean. To many rules, to many cant’s and don’ts. To many secrets. There is a darkness about them compared to the dad’s family. Just this little bit of writing about them has turned my mood from one of joy to one of sadness and I have a knot in my stomach. You told me you weren’t going to do anything that would hurt me, so I’m done Randy. I’m going to climb in granny’s lap know where I know I am safe.
(AR): Often times survivors of abuse question the validity and reality of being abused, I know did. This was an assignment given to me by my therapist eight-years into my recovery. In doing this assignment nothing new was revealed to me. No new traumas came to light. Because I was one that always questioned the validity of the abuse, in the back of my mind I was always thinking I missed something. Maybe my mom wasn’t as bad as I thought. No mom can be that bad I thought. The reality is, she was. She loved to use the words “don’t be ridiculous Randy, who do you think you are?” It was made really clear to me with little Randy writing that my mother was not a good mother at all. She was cruel, mean, and unloving. It made it even clearer when little Randy explained the love of grandma Boyd. She deeply loved me unconditionally. She clearly protected me. Her love I would have to compare to the love of God. There is a clear distinction of light and dark between my dad’s family and my mother’s family. This assignment solidified that my feelings are correct about the lack of love my mother had for me as a child, as her son.
A lot has happened since these letters were written and I have come along way. I have fully forgiven both my mother and stepfather, which has given me a peace and freedom beyond my wildest dreams. Unfortunately, my mother continued to blame me for much of the abuse that happened. She never was willing to look at her part in the abuse and with much prayer and guidance from God, my mentors and therapist, our relationship was severed in 2009. She died in December of 2016 and never got meet her great grandchildren or meet the God loving pastor and healing man that I am today. As far as my stepfather. He passed away in 2015 and the last time I saw him was in 1983 when Cathy and I were married.
You can read more about “inner child” work in my book “Healing The Wounded Child Within” and its accompanying work book “7-Day Challenge,” both are available on Amazon. Remember, do not let the past, your abuse define who you are. That is only what happened to you, not who you are. You too can have a life beyond your wildest dreams if you’re willing to do the hard work. This journey is a marathon, not a sprint.
To find out more about the Courageous Healers Foundation and our Life Coaching services please visit: www.courageoushealers.org & www.changeyourlifestorynow.com
Blessings
Written: 06/25/14 – Age: Birth – 6yrs old
Continued Conversation from Part - 3
(LR): I loved spending the night at grandma and grandpas house. I hope everyone knows Randy that I am talking about grandma and grandpa Boyd here. (AR): They do know. (LR): Grandma use to tuck me into bed at night and tell me stories about the “Pixies” that lived in the bedroom. They were friendly and only came out night. She told me they were there to protect me and that they didn’t like the light. I never was afraid because I was with grandma and I knew she loved me and would not let nothing hurt me. Randy you know you didn’t treat her very good when she got older. (AR): Yes, I know, and I am so sorry for that. (LR): Remember how grandma punished you? She’d get up sat and say, “oh you little shit,” he, he, he…. I hated upsetting grandma. When I went too far, I remember how she would put me on a stool in the corner of the kitchen with my nose in the corner. Oh, I hated that. But hated more that I disappointed her. She wasn’t mean and nasty like mom. Honestly comparing the two, it’s more like mom hated me.
Grandpa was so cool too. Man, I loved him. Sometimes he was grumpy, but at least he wasn’t mean. I remember going in his garage with him. He was always tinkering with and fixing things, it’s what he loved to do. I’d spend hours with him in his garage. I’d make a mess out of the sawdust, it was so cool to play in. Then I’d help him clean it all up. He’d give me a block of wood and I’d sit on his drill press drilling away like a woodpecker. He even made me my own little tool tray. Complete with nails, screws, hammer and screwdriver. I loved spending time with him.
Hey, Randy do you know what was really cool? Remember when he would take us to work with him at “Matlin Benson” and the old wooden hand truck? He’d give us a ride all over the shop and introduce us to all the workers. Man, that was so cool.
Aunt Jeanie (dads’ sister) was cool too. She used to take us to the Halloween Carnival at the school by their house. I always wanted to win goldfish in the ping pong ball toss. I think I might have won one or two times; I can’t really remember though. Remember the play she got us involved in at the YMCA down by the “Pike” in Long Beach? We had to recite the ABC’s using a fruit or vegetable to represent each letter. Man, I was so scared and nervous. No one forced me to do it, they just encouraged me with positive words.
I really don’t know what else to write Randy. I know we spent time with moms’ side of the family, however even though we did things and had some fun, it was different. Randy, they were not loving and kind like grandma and grandpa Boyd. They had a darkness about them. They were grumpy and mean. To many rules, to many cant’s and don’ts. To many secrets. There is a darkness about them compared to the dad’s family. Just this little bit of writing about them has turned my mood from one of joy to one of sadness and I have a knot in my stomach. You told me you weren’t going to do anything that would hurt me, so I’m done Randy. I’m going to climb in granny’s lap know where I know I am safe.
(AR): Often times survivors of abuse question the validity and reality of being abused, I know did. This was an assignment given to me by my therapist eight-years into my recovery. In doing this assignment nothing new was revealed to me. No new traumas came to light. Because I was one that always questioned the validity of the abuse, in the back of my mind I was always thinking I missed something. Maybe my mom wasn’t as bad as I thought. No mom can be that bad I thought. The reality is, she was. She loved to use the words “don’t be ridiculous Randy, who do you think you are?” It was made really clear to me with little Randy writing that my mother was not a good mother at all. She was cruel, mean, and unloving. It made it even clearer when little Randy explained the love of grandma Boyd. She deeply loved me unconditionally. She clearly protected me. Her love I would have to compare to the love of God. There is a clear distinction of light and dark between my dad’s family and my mother’s family. This assignment solidified that my feelings are correct about the lack of love my mother had for me as a child, as her son.
A lot has happened since these letters were written and I have come along way. I have fully forgiven both my mother and stepfather, which has given me a peace and freedom beyond my wildest dreams. Unfortunately, my mother continued to blame me for much of the abuse that happened. She never was willing to look at her part in the abuse and with much prayer and guidance from God, my mentors and therapist, our relationship was severed in 2009. She died in December of 2016 and never got meet her great grandchildren or meet the God loving pastor and healing man that I am today. As far as my stepfather. He passed away in 2015 and the last time I saw him was in 1983 when Cathy and I were married.
You can read more about “inner child” work in my book “Healing The Wounded Child Within” and its accompanying work book “7-Day Challenge,” both are available on Amazon. Remember, do not let the past, your abuse define who you are. That is only what happened to you, not who you are. You too can have a life beyond your wildest dreams if you’re willing to do the hard work. This journey is a marathon, not a sprint.
To find out more about the Courageous Healers Foundation and our Life Coaching services please visit: www.courageoushealers.org & www.changeyourlifestorynow.com
Blessings
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