tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37087312288105465702011-11-27T16:52:20.531-08:00A lighthearted look at traumatic abuse and its aftermathBig Fat Trauma Queenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04171979299251380710noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3708731228810546570.post-2284622904775118672010-01-19T13:40:00.000-08:002010-01-19T13:41:48.873-08:00My daughter is ten. She is becoming more independent every day. I have to let her keep growing away from me. To do otherwise would be abuse of the worst kind. But, oh - is it hard. <br /><br />My daughter’s birth was like a bridge that sprung up between me and the rest of humanity.   Suddenly, miraculously, I belonged to someone. <br /><br />I have never felt worthy of her, and I have always been unspeakably grateful for her birth. But that gratitude is threatening  to become  her prison. <br /><br />My daughter is not mine. She belongs to herself. She has merely been loaning herself to me. Every day, she takes a bit more of herself  into her own possession. Every day.<br /><br />What I need  to remember is that she is not taking anything  away from me- she is not chipping away at my selfhood  by claiming her own. Her plump fresh hands do not hold the key to my significance. I need to know this - for her sake. For the sake of her tender new wings. <br /><br />At a very young age, I traded in the hope of being loved for the hope of being needed. It’s a classic TQ compromise : I cannot be of value, but I can be of use. Why stand on your own two feet when you can stand on mine? Justify my existence: use me, please.  <br /><br /> TQ’s ( that stands for Trauma Queens - my blog is called Big Fat Trauma Queen: a lighthearted look at traumatic abuse and its aftermath) make fantastic baby nurses. Attachment parenting? No problem. I’d still carry my kid in a baby sling if she’d let me. Round the clock breast-feeding on demand? Of course - I did it for almost four years. Family bed? Sure. My daughter chose to sleep on her own when she was eight. It wasn’t my idea. I miss her sweet-smelling head on the pillow next to mine. <br /><br />Every day, my daughter takes more of herself into her own possession. And it is time for her mother to do the same. I have to claim my own selfhood, so  my daughter can continue to claim her own. I need to become precious in my own eyes, and release my child from the burden of giving value to my life.<br /><br />Who am I if nobody needs me? Just useless and loved.<br /> And you know what? <br />That doesn't sound half bad.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3708731228810546570-228462290477511867?l=bigfattraumaqueen.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Big Fat Trauma Queenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04171979299251380710noreply@blogger.com2