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Love Has Strings

I have spent most of my life relating love with strings; you must do this to be loved, I would help you, but I need this in return, you're never going to be good enough for {fill in the blank}.  What this feeling of all love comes with strings was one of the main ingredients of the mortar that held my wall up for years {I'm talking 12 years old to late

30's}.  The words of parents can create cuts in your heart and soul so thick that one may search for anything to heal the wound.  My feelings started with the divorce {which I was actually thankful for} the manipulation of a child - not so much.   Here is an expert from my testimony:

 

 

Being good enough for God, for my Dad, for those around me.  This also started the “belief” that love and any kind of help came with strings – there was a price for everything in life.  I started in a new school, going from a class of 24 kids to a class of a couple 100 kids.  It was evident that I didn’t have a lot of money and I was a little shy.  The physical fighting between my parents had ended, but the emotional fighting continued.  The custody battle was long and ugly which included me at the very young age of 12/13 having to go into the judge’s chambers and tell him which parent I wanted to live with.  Of course, I said my mom; I was terrified of my dad.   My Dad would remind me of that decision I made on a regular basis.   

My mom had been a stay-at-home mom, which didn’t look good on her resume; we were poor, and life wasn’t easy.  My dad made good money, and while he did pay his child support, he would not contribute anything extra for activities: clothes, braces, etc.  If it ever got brought up that we needed something he would be very quick to remind my younger brother and me that we chose to live with my mom, and therefore he would not give anything extra – if we wanted a better financial life we needed to live with him.  

 

I was also the note passer after their divorce, the court ordered visitation every other weekend and once a month in the summer.  My parents never spoke to each other verbally, only through letters and the exchange would happen through me.  I don’t know what those letters said, but I could clearly read the expressions on my parent’s faces, and they were never good. 

 

To deal with all the mixed feelings of my parents, the divorce, the change in schools, I started drinking, taking speed, and having sexual relations at 15.  I would have thoughts of suicide but concluded that was a ticket straight to hell because one of the Ten Commandments was though shalt not commit murder.   I was terrified of going to hell. My Dad rarely went to church with us, and when my parents divorced he stopped going, that was about the only good thing about visiting him I didn’t have to go to church and be scared, this was the only good thing I concluded about visiting my Dad.

 

I am happy to report that I have come a looooong way from that girl, from the one that knew all love came with strings.  Now I will freely admit I am ever cautious of new friendships, I still don't open up easily, and I am not that overly huggy-never met a stranger person - I believe in Stranger Danger.  But I am improving all the time, and once I am your friend, you can't get "rid" of me.   

 

Trying to see people through His Grace, continually improving.

 

 

 

Nicole 

 

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