I am not always gentle and soft. When anger fills me, I don’t just rain, I storm and cause ruins. I strike every tree and thunder ever so loudly. I go on a rampage. But then, after the storm is gone, it starts to rain lightly, and sadness fills the atmosphere after rage.
Our memories create the substance of our identity. People who lose their memory lose any sense of who they are. Some of us have memories of painful events in our childhood, or of traumas that changed our image of ourselves. Those of us who were abused by parents have to learn in adulthood to fill those gaps by becoming good parents to ourselves. Some of us have become trapped at a younger stage of development by
painful memories. Now, it is essential to our healing that we not perpetuate our own abuse.
We have to learn to include ourselves in the human family. No matter what we experienced, no matter what we feel, it is all part of what it means to be human. We can heal our memories, not by changing them, but by making peace with them so we are free to live in the present. A man can imagine the little boy he once was—and imagine taking that youngster on his lap and promising him that he will take care of him and keep him safe.
Today, I will be a good parent to myself and treat myself with love and respect.