After months and months of feeling pretty good, like I’m doing a great job healing myself and making a lot of progress overcoming and processing my childhood trauma, I’m having one of the hardest weeks of my life.
There was this kid I knew when we were child actors in the 80s. We were never friends, but just like me, he didn’t want to be on any of the auditions our mothers forced us to do. His mother was the most openly abusive monster I have ever seen. More than once, I saw her hit him in public. Literally every time I saw him, she was yelling at him, berating him, putting him down, and being emotionally abusive. Literally every time, hundreds of times, for about a decade.
I always felt so sad for this kid, and his siblings, who were obviously being abused and used by their mother. His mother was so unabashed about screaming at him in casting offices, even little 9 year-old Wil knew that he was probably being physically and emotionally abused at home.
I hadn’t seen or thought about this person in thirty years, but the other night I saw him on my TV from a movie he did in the 80s, and all of these traumatic memories of my own abuse were triggered. I remembered things I had totally forgotten, things that I hadn’t thought about since they happened 35 years ago, and I just started to sob, because I realized that if little 9 year-old me knew what was going on, certainly the adults who should have protected him knew, and they did nothing.
Just like the adults in my life, starting with the two people who I should have been able to rely upon more than anyone else in the world to protect me.
I was a kind, gentle, enthusiastic kid. I was super creative, with an endless imagination. I was honest, I was honorable, and I always tried to do the right thing. I really love that little boy, and I wish he was my own son, because he deserves so much better than he got. I just wanted to be loved and praised by my parents, which I don’t think is unreasonable for any child. But my father made it really clear from my earliest memories that I wasn’t good enough for him. He bullied me, he humiliated me, he hit me, and I lived in absolute terror of him. By the time I was a teenager, and had plenty of experience with bullies, I recognized how weak and pathetic he was, and I traded my fear for contempt. I didn’t respect him, I didn’t trust him, I would never confide in him or seek advice from him, but I still desperately wanted him to love me. I desperately wanted him to approve of me, to give any indication at all that I mattered. He was, and is, such a bully, such a narcissist, so selfish and so cruel, that that was never going to happen. My mother must have known how cruel he was to me, but she protected him and enabled his abuse. She gaslighted me about it for my whole life, as recently as the final communication I had with her. I’m working to accept the reality of who they are, and even though I won’t ever speak to them again or have anything to do with them, the absence of loving, nurturing, caring parents is always going to be there for me. It hurts, a lot. It feels kind of like the whole world.
So when I saw this kid, back in 1988 or whenever it was, I was reminded of being that sweet, gentle, curious, smart, clever, kind, child I was. That child who didn’t ever get affection or approval from his father, who learned that he could only get approval and affection from his mother when he was letting her use him to chase her acting dreams. Something happened, and it’s like this emotional dam I’d built to contain the sadness and fear I lived with when I was that child just totally burst.
The enormity and totality of my father’s abuse, my mother’s manipulation, and how unhappy, sad, and afraid I was poured over me in a torrent, and I felt like I was drowning. I still do. I’m caught in a rip current, and I can’t seem to swim out of it.
So now I have these two profound emotions swirling around in my head: I feel, in full color and as vividly as if it is happening to me right now, the overwhelming fear and sadness I lived with as a child. I was so afraid my dad would be mean to me, or that he would hurt me. I was so afraid that my mother, like my father, would not love me if I didn’t do what she wanted. Endlessly, I begged my mother to let me be a kid, and she refused. I did everything I could to earn my father’s affection and approval, and it was never good enough for him. I feel those things with the helplessness and confusion of a child, but I also feel white-hot anger at those awful people for hurting that child — for hurting me — so much, and so callously.
I love that little boy. I love his kindness. I love his compassion and his empathy. I love how creative he is, how much he loves to make up stories. I love how important it is to him to be kind, to treat people the way he wants to be treated. I want to protect and nurture and love that little boy the way he deserves. I want to go back in time, and protect him from the people who are SUPPOSED to be protecting him, who are using and hurting him, like he’s their property, and not their child.
When I remember being that child, I feel so angry and afraid, I could join the Dark Side, and that’s not something I like to feel.
I’ll get through this, because I am stronger than my abusers. I am better than the man who was my father, and I am working to heal from and overcome how manipulative my mother was. Some days are easier than others, but the last few days have been really, really tough.
It feels like the whole world, and if you understand what that means, I am so, so sorry.
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I related way too heavily too this. It breaks my heart reading about your friend, and your own personal traumas. What hurts the most though is that my father was and still is the exact same way as yours once was. Im a college student now, and I’ve looked up to you for the longest time, but reading this made me feel like I understand you and myself more than I ever have. As tragic as it is that we both, and so many other people, have to do deal with issues like these, I found this post oddly comforting knowing that I am not alone. You’ve helped me in the past dealing with my anxiety and depression, especially throughout my teen years, but this really hit me hard. I can’t imagine this was easy to write or relive. But thank you for being brave enough to do so.
I am just curious if you ever looked up the other child actor as an adult.
I know how you feel. I was emotionally abused by my dad. My mom was the loyal wife, but she tried to speak up. But, she didn’t have the ‘authority’ to object to him because of religion and my dad’s fucked up thinking. I get triggered often, like you, by things from the past, including, yes, 80s stuff. (I’m an 80s kid.)
Thankfully, I talk it out with my therapist, who I see weekly. But I do hope, one day, not to have these triggers, but it will take time.
We love you Wil. By your choices in this hour, protect our future feelings and our faith in life. We love you!
I’m sorry you had these terrible experiences growing up, but I want you to know that strangers are proud of you. I started following you a few years ago on tumblr as a whim, and quickly gained tremendous respect for how open you are about your personal struggles, and how you respond to others who are struggling. You help people. I hope the rip current lets up. You’re a good person.
YEP! I Second and THIRD that! We DO ALL CARE! Even if you DON’T Know us all! We DO CARE! 🙂
I don’t know if it will make you feel better or not but there are a lot of us out there dealing with our younger selves. What we wish would have been better for them. What we wish could be different now because of what happened then. And there are a lot of us out there who are mostly good now. I say mostly because there are still days that aren’t good. But mostly good is pretty damn good.
You have done a lot of work the past few years, starting with getting sober and facing why you weren’t before. You are learning what it takes to face emotions instead of tamping them down. You are learning how to process things that have sat way down in your head just festering for decades. And you’ve done it all without having had good role models on how to do that growing up (vicious circle, that). It’s really amazing.
I know I don’t know you. I know you don’t know me. I don’t know if what I’ve said helps or if this will, but I’m really proud of you. I’ve read your blog for years and seen your relationships with your wife and your sons and they are so good. You’ve done so well. You are amazing.
Those of us who have been there, however we’ve been there, know what you’ve overcome. What you are still overcoming. And you’re doing great. Really.
I think we had the same father. Whatever you do, don’t see the movie, The Painted Bird. I saw it a week ago and am still paralyzed.
I feel this lost so hard. My biological father was the same way and I’ve been working through a lot of things from my teenage years. I’m sorry you’re having a hard time this week and I hope it gets better.
I am so, so sorry you had to put up with that shit, Wil. All those qualities you describe shone out in your performances and that says that they will outlast and outshine those abusive parents. You are a better person than they will ever be. I don’t know if this helps, or if it’s silly, but on the blackest day of my life – I had done something really bad (not criminal) and I had come clean and confessed to the person I’d hurt the most and for several hours was waiting to learn whether he could forgive me, and I found myself imagining the little curly-headed girl I used to be, and this thing I had done as an adult had made her so terrified of being abandoned, that I just sat and rocked and wept, trying to comfort her. And, oddly, it worked. After awhile it calmed me down and I realized by confessing I’d started on the way to healing, and could face whatever the outcome would be. (It was better than I deserved.) I think we all have our own little selves inside us and communicating with them in times of fear and insecurity can help. I don’t know how it works, but it worked for me that night. You deserve all the good things. Never doubt that.
::FIERCE HUGS::
I am so sorry you are going through this. I went through something similar with my dad. We don’t have a relationship anymore.
I cried reading this & immediately handed it to my husband to read as I couldn’t help but think of him as I read it. He too had a manipulative mother who treated him as an accessory at best & ignored him completely at worst. I wish I could hug that little boy you used to be. I too, unfortunately, know the pain & disappointment of parents that fall far short. Sending you strength, courage, healing, & peace as you navigate these difficult waters. 💛
I’m sorry Will. Reminder, swim with the rip current. This advice may work in a way for this. Keep the course, surround yourself with the love you have today. Swimming against the current, it will only exhaust you. Thinking of you and sending positive vibes.
Thank you for being so open about your struggles Wil. I’ve been struggling with some similar stuff recently, and being able to read your thoughts on the subject has been really cathartic for me. Reading your blog over the years has really helped give me some insight into my own struggles with depression and anxiety. I’m glad the social stigma about mental issues is getting better, but it will only continue to improve when people like you speak out about the struggles you’ve had. Again, Thank you.
Childhood traumas are difficult. I have experienced deep wounds. I found that as an adult I mentally went back, sat on the porch of my childhood apartment. Seeing my childhood self approaching I opened my arms and welcomed my younger self into a loving embrace. I cried as my younger self cried and spoke of the pain that she had endured. I had to repeat this senario many times as there was much to resolve. I do not know if something like this will help you. I only offer it up as one path to try. Healing thoughts are sent your way. Love on many levels.
I’m sure it’s never exactly comforting to hear other people are struggling too, but I had one of those rip currents this past July. But now it’s January, and I’m doing ok. I know you can swim out. Eventually. Because I did, and it looked pretty bleak there for a while back in the summer. For whatever it’s worth, while it certainly doesn’t make me feel good that you know how I felt (still feel sometimes), or lessen my pain knowing you’re also hurting, when you talk about your experiences when you were younger, it DOES help me to know I’m not alone. To know this other good, kind person came out the other side of similar pain too, and courageously shares his pain with us. Hopefully writing about it brings you some peace. Thank you for sharing with us here.
I firmly believe there’s incredible value in knowing you are not alone.
God do I ever relate to this. After just moving on and ignoring my past for so long, last year triggers came up over and over again. I’ve started to realize that sometimes it’s good when the dam comes crashing down. It’s awful to experience, but you sometimes need to re-trigger those moments to process them with an adult, self-loving mind. I’m glad you’re acknowledging the awfulness of what you went through and remembering that you deserved love. That is still hard for me; I keep wanting to fall back into the trap of believing that if I had just done a little better, I wouldn’t have been treated that way.
I’m sending good thoughts your way. You deserve all the love and good things!
I don’t usually reply, but I wanted to say thank you for trusting us to read your thoughts and feelings when they are so raw. Other days will be better.
Wil, I’m so sorry to see that you’re having such a tough time right now. You’re really, really hurting right now and it’s really good that you’re venting this all out. I just want to say that I completely feel you right now, as I was also grew up with abusive parents and struggle as an adult (22 years of age) with the fallout of those experiences. The affect of all it all on the psyche and development was and still is a lot to bear, and the times where all of the horrible feelings you felt come crashing back are undoubtedly the suffocating. From reading this I can tell you’re a deeply caring person with an attentive conscious, which is incredibly valuable and marks you already being a better person to yourself than your parents could have been to you. I am so glad that you’ve been treating yourself with the respect that you deserve. <3
I am so sorry for what you have suffered. And I want to acknowledge how strong you are to have broken free of your parents. That little boy was very tough. You survived. You are healing. And you have make a life that is yours.
I had abusive parents and it sometimes surprises me when it still causes me so many problems in my current life. You have made amazing progress in so many areas of your life. Unfortunately old memories can continue to bubble to the surface but you are doing all you can to process them. And that is a huge victory (even if it’s a painful one).
Thanks for your candor, Wil. You are not alone and your powerful words let many others know they are not alone.
I can relate. I don’t have words to help, but you are bloody brilliant for sharing it! You inspire people. If only I could hug that little guy, and let him know how special he was I would.
Please please keep going! 🦄💖🌛😘
I’ve been where you are. My father is an alcoholic. I don’t think I’ve ever known him truly sober. He never, ever kept a promise to me. If he was to pick me up at two pm on the one weekend a month I was to see him, he’d call me at 2pm and told me he still hadn’t left his home 2 hours away. He hated paying the $70 a month in child support, constantly tortured my mother who he cheated on by calling and saying enough horrible things to her to make her cry because he was power tripping. So after I had a nervous breakdown and tried to end my life, I did my best to cut him out of my life. I suffered a lot of trauma especially the two previous years when I lived with him and his wife. I didn’t see him for 35 years. He’d still call about once a year to ask me out to dinner. Then I found out he had a tumour removed from his lung. And the next time he called and asked me to dinner I said no, but I’ll go to brunch with you. Thus started our reunion. He’s still an alcoholic, selfish as hell, criticizes his wife in front of me, gets drunk at many gatherings and acts like a baby oh and also has this strange obsession about my weight. His wife is a lot nicer to me this time around. But the difference I can control when and how I see him. He never physically or sexually abused me. I’ve forgiven him. And I’m not saying this from any religious space, but forgiveness is something you do for yourself so that you can let it go. Whatever it is. I’m not saying it’s easy because it’s not. If you could have one more conversation with your parents, maybe in therapy, what would you ask them? Would you ask them why they pushed you so hard? Would you ask your dad if he hated you? I mean how does he treat your siblings? Are they as hard on them? Do you your think your dad may have been jealous? Did he ever have dreams to act? Anyway, I’m sorry that you’ve had such a hard time. I hope it gets better.
I love you, Wil. I do understand and appreciate your apology, even though we both know you don’t owe it at all. ❤️
I haven’t spoke to my parents in three years, I’m done and have moved on.
If there’s any comfort to be found in it, take some from knowing that the love and acceptance you’ve given your sons is what you deserved as a child. I’m just another little lost child, trying my best to keep my head above water, gasping in solidarity with you, holding your virtual hand, wishing you well.
You are strong, so very strong, and there is no weakness in feeling broken. When the whole world is crushing you and you can’t focus for a second because of the emotions choking you, remember to breathe. Find light. Just look up at the stars and remember there is always light in darkness. This doesn’t have to be your whole world because you can create a new one for yourself. Even if it’s just for a visit, you can escape.
I’m sorry, too.
I wish I knew all the magical words to make any sort of tiny difference in your journey, but I know I don’t. It’s a journey I’ve been putting off for far too long I’m sure. I’ve often thought it’s not even worth it at this age, but your posts have made me reconsider that. I’ll be unpacking my luggage after I’m done caregiving for one of my parents. It’s proving to be pretty re-traumatizing anyway.
All I can say is, keep loving that little boy, give him what he needs. Do something silly for yourself. It sounds odd but the times when I’m super overwhelmed, I do whatever the goofiest, silliest thing is that I can think of. Maybe it feeds the young one in us, I don’t know.
No matter what… way too many of us get it, unfortunately. On the plus side, that means you have a crapload of support and love coming your way through your entire journey. 💜
Thanks for sharing. Your kindness towards your child self is inspiring. Keep swimming Wil.
Holy cats. I can’t even begin to imagine. Although you can’t go back and protect that little boy, for what it’s worth I think that by being open about his experiences and yours, you’re helping to protect current kids and helping other adults deal with awful pasts. And that’s a pretty good thing. Try for some fur therapy (i.e. pet snuggles) and best friend/adorable wife time if you can. They love you lots. Peace to you.
Thank you for writing about this. Just this week, I had a similar moment of all of my “issues” flooding to the forefront. I spend most of my life pretending I’m over my childhood, but now it looks as though i’m finally going to get the help i need to deal with it for real. Which is good, because it’s still eroding me from the inside, keeping me from being my real self.
Someone once told me healing happens in a spiral — you keep circling back, but each time, you’ve made a little more progress. I like that. I hope you emerge from this soon. Better days are ahead, for both of us.
Fuck it, Dude – lets bake. (channeling my inner Walter Sobchak)
Seriously – baking gives you confidence and helps restructure your routine, which gives you stability and shifts your thinking! Science even says so, so it’s gotta be legit, right?!?
According to an article I read in the British Journal of Occupational Health (‘Baking Gives You Confidence’: Users’ Views of Engaging in the Occupation of Baking), baking offers a therapeutic encounter that can provide experiences of success and promote improved functioning.
Key factors were identified with baking: developed confidence, motivation and satisfaction in individuals with mental health problems.
HUZZAH!
So, cheer up, Charlie, put on that apron and improve your mood. 🙂
Baker’s gonna bake!
I can confirm that this is true. I had amazingly bad parents, a shitty childhood and am borked from it in countless ways……but I can bake my ass off. The rhythm and routine of making all of my own food from absolute scratch is better than anything I’ve tried to calm and focus me on a long term basis. The better I have gotten at it, the more happy I am with myself. Making bread in particular seems to be very soothing. I think the act of physical creation, done with regularity and freedom from judgement is something that is necessary for humans and something that the modern world has slowly begun to stamp out.
Will, I am so sorry. I also had an abusive mother and a toxic home life, and it created scars in me that I still sometimes struggle with even though I’m 68 now and my parents are long gone.
I am glad you are able to love who you were and are and fight fiercely to protect and defend him/yourself. You have such incredible value, and your honesty and ability to share even your pain helps many people.
Please take care, love yourself, let others love you, and continue to heal…no matter the rocks in front of you, stay on the path….
I am so sorry that you did you didn’t have the parents you needed WHEN you needed them. My dad unfortunately was neglectful to me and my siblings and physically and verbally abusive to my mother. I didn’t have the adults I needed to go through that. Like you, my childhood still haunts me and I pray everyday that I may never relive my childhood as an adult. Now as my own adult, I try my best to live one day at time and as an educator trying to be there for kids who may feel that have no one in their corner.
This is something you needed to process, so let yourself work through it. Sometimes we bottle up our trauma and pack it away because we can’t deal with it while it’s happening, then we stumble upon it and let out all that poison so that you can heal. <3
It’s terrible you had to go through this. You should not forget though all the joy you gave to people through your roles in movies and Star Trek!
Once there was a seed, tossed about wildly in the flood, buffeted this way and that with no control over direction, depth, or movement, slammed into obstacles repeatedly, submerged to depths, in it’s limited experience, it was not able to comprehend.
The seed endured protecting that small creative spark that was in essence, self, and eventually, in the middle of the rip current the seed found a small island and no matter how overwhelming the current was it was unable to shake the seed loose from that small island. Over the years the small island grew larger, in part because of the roots the seed put down, and the seed grew into a great tree, weathered and uniquely bent, beautiful and strong.
At times the flood still rises and submerges the tree threatening to tear it apart and carry it away but over the years, much to the tree’s surprise, the tree found that when the flood returned, each time the current threatened to overwhelm, when faced squarely, the rip tide was forced to break around the tree on it’s island, becoming misty and insubstantial, finally receding once again, and each time the tree grew stronger, the seed it had been, in some ways still was, was locked safely inside, no longer buffeted wildly in the current without control and the tree knew deep down that it no longer had to fear the flood.
The out of nowhere anger is so so hard. Sometimes a stupidly hard workout can quiet my brain. Sometimes nothing works and all I can do is stay in my bed and escape to a book. But it’s like a rock in a pond. Each time the ripple is smaller, even if I can’t tell until it passes. Sending love.
Dude – you got this! You are NOT your fucking past!
I understand. We have your hand.
WOW Wil! I feel for you SO MUCH! I TOO went through a similar childhood. But mine was ALSO filled with the loss of a Sister in 1972 of Leukemia she was 18 yrs. Old and I was only 7, She died a week after my birthday that year. Our family blew apart. Both parents became super alcoholics and my life was a living hell never knowing if my one or both parents would be there? After many years of this my mom eventually stopped drinking and we moved out to the suburbs and things SEEMED to be more… “Normal”. Then not long after I graduated High School which was in 1983…my NEXT oldest sister died in August of 1985 of a double aneurism. She was only 28 and left four kids and a husband.
And ONCE AGAIN my life was dropped into a MASSIVE hole! I lost my BEST FRIEND in the WHOLE WORLD! I was at a band mate’s parents’ house and we were having our annual “Summer Band Party/Pool Bash and Cook Out” {I will be a drummer/musician for 42 yrs. this coming June.}
I actually FELT her die! I felt this HORRIBLE PAIN in my WHOLE BODY and I KNEW something was VERY Wrong! People say being psychic is BS… but I can tell you Psychic connections are VERY REAL! I raced home to find my parents changing out of their cloths and crying… I asked what was wrong and my mom just broke down. My dad told me that they had to take my sister to the hospital because they thought she had a heart attack. I asked if she was “OK” and my dad shook his head “no” and started to cry.., I RAN Out of the house, Into my car and SOMEHOW managed to end up at my best friend’s house over twenty miles away in inner city Milwaukee. I just got to his door and before I could knock I said “My sister died tonight!” and I passed out! I woke up on his parents’ couch and stayed there the rest of the night. He had already called my parents’ to tell them I was there and I was ok. My WHOLE WORLD just DIED! I was in SUCH SHOCK! I was literally DEVISTATED! I wanted to die too!
THEN… STILL dealing with THAT Loss… My Mom got sick on December 5th of 1986… only a year later… and went into a coma that she never came out of and she eventually died in her sleep in a hospital in Milwaukee on Feb. 15th 1987 a week after my birthday… yet AGAIN!
THEN I lost my Dad in April of 1994 a week away from his 66th birthday, He died from a series of strokes that started back in 1989,
And Last year I lost an old friend in January of 2019. And recently my Fav Drummer of ALL TIME Neil Peart of RUSH whom was my Mentor and LAST LIVING HERO Has died at age 67 on Jan, 7th of 2020.
ALL of my Living Heroes are gone now. So I ask… WHY should I continue? I’m an Orphan… I’m almost 55… I work a dead end job… I’m broke most of the time… I have NOTHING to show for a life of struggles, death, pain, hurt… So WHY SHOULDN’T I just PULL the PIN and see what comes next? 🙁
Because you said you were a musician. Write me a song, death metal, punk, head banger, rock, country, ballad, whatever your genre I’d like to see how you can harness this intensity into your music… can you?
Wow. Your post breaks my heart three times: for you, for the other child, and for all others who have endured or are enduring abuse.
The rip-tide is devastating. It is frightening, it is overwhelming, and it always washes one backwards. I hope you surface soon.
Ruth
Child of narcissists and your story is similar to mine, minus acting…Narcissistic stepfather demanding perfection from kids and flying monkey mom who gaslights to this day that nothing happened like I remember. I came to the same conclusion as you a few years back that little me should have been cherished, encouraged and loved instead of everything they chose to do instead. Since my mother failed to protect, little me…adult me is now fiercely protective. It is hard going no contact, esp in a society that emphasizes familial ties. But protect little you! You are doing the right thing. Also, you have your family and friends that support you. You do not need toxic parents (some great books are out there on the topic). I hope the other guy found love or therapy or a tribe that supports them as well.
As someone who grew up in a verbally & sometimes physically abusive household, both my older, middle-aged self and my inner younger self want to just reach through the text and give you a hug of empathy. Even now, in my 50s, I still have random memories, sounds, images or even smells that will trigger a trauma.
I wish I could say it gets easier, but it doesn’t. It helps to ease it if you’re surrounded by people who love you. You are, and luckily I am as well. Bask in that love, and hold onto it through the tough times, my friend.
Wil,
Thank you for always being so open and honest about the rough and raw parts of your life. Your writing is beautiful- and through sharing your experiences you help others explore their pasts and emotions and heal.
I never had abusive parents, but my biological father left when I was young. He created another family and even though over the years I repeatedly tried to express to him how his absence and my replacement with other children hurt me, he would never acknowledge my feelings, nor apologize for his actions. In fact, he tried to play the victim.
It is amazing how sometimes the smallest thoughts or images can bring those long forgotten emotions rushing back and blind side us with their strength.
My hat off to you for all of the work you put into healing your heart and soul and to living a good life.
-Sarah
I know it might feel like a step back in the healing to start focusing on these things again, but it’s not. It’s just a pause. A pause to grieve the good childhood you weren’t given and the love of parents that you should have had. I think you are incredibly strong/ And certainly one of the absolute kindest, nicest humans I know. You got to make sure your two sons grew up in a home where they were loved for themselves, not what they could do for you. You broke the cycle of abuse. You, my dear friend, are a warrior. And sometimes warriors need to rest and recoup their strength. Roll your hit dice, add your con mod, and come out stronger when you’re done.
Until you come out from the cloud, hug your pets, kiss your wife, talk to your boys, and I am here, virtually giving you a hot beverage as is the cultural convention (I have been re-watching TBBT episodes, apologies for the quoting) and a hug.
Oh, Wil! This just breaks my heart! You are very strong to get through all of this and become the wonderful man, husband and father you are now. I will try to tell you this is person next time I see you, but please know how much I admire you.
You will get through this, Wil. It’s a day by day thing, but the fact that you can talk and write it out will help. No amount of “gaslighting” can deny the hurtful words and deed. So you deal with it by reminding yourself that you are of value, that you are not a doormat for someone’s gain and that tomorrow will be better. I hope you know we are all here.
Even when you were being forced to play roles for other people instead of getting to be yourself, when you were in the screen, anyone could see that sweet, gentle, curious, smart, clever, kind, child that you were, shining through. That is why you were so loved then. Now that you get to share your real feelings with the world on your own terms, you are still so loved, for all of those reasons. I am so proud of how well you have done being a better parent than anyone ever taught you to be, making sure your children got the good father they deserved, even when the father that didn’t deserve them put you and Anne through hell for it.
I have always thought of you as my brother. You have a much bigger, more loving family than you were ever able to know back when you needed it most.
Sending love and respect back in time to 9 year old you and the other boy who deserved so much better.