It's never too late to have a happy childhood.
Simplistic but true. We can all nurture our inner child.
Sometimes when we grow up we realize by comparison our so called happy childhood, wasn't. Our normal life was not so normal. Sometimes we know from the start that how we were raised was just absolutely wrong. Unfortunately, even though we know it takes a village to raise a child- that just isn't the reality.
When a child's spirit is broken or damaged we all suffer. As adults we need to be aware that some of us need more nurturing than others. We didn't all come from a loving, perfect environment. We need to help one another and give support.
While I also realized that my childhood wasn't picture perfect. I did get the basics. I was loved and raised to be truthful and kind.
Our home was old and we didn't have the amenities that most of our peers did. Our house was more typical of the 1800's than the 1900's. We lived in a cold, old house with a woodstove for cooking and heat. It was difficult, but we had a home. There were six of us born to my parents which made things very tight financially. Often we went without proper medical and dental care. We lived in a parallel universe to some of our peers. But these difficulties strengthened us in many ways rather than weakening us. We got food and love. Though our parents argued often and loudly we never doubted that we were valuable to them. We knew we were loved.
Shortly before my 31st birthday my father took his life by gunshot. This was an abysmally, sad period of my life. It took me many years to get over his death. Lots and lots of inner dialogue to heal. I've had so many conversations with myself to justify what he did. Over time I have convinced myself that he was taking the only cure he knew. He confirmed to me by his action that he was certainly bi- polar. Not a comforting thought but it gives concreteness to his decision. He believed himself to be ill with no cure in sight. I've rationalized that he was afraid to embarass his family by spiraling further and further into an illness which was out of his control. He chose to eliminate himself rather than work towards a cure. In his mind there was none.
I had given myself a mental breakdown in my early twenties by being much too hard on myself. A poor diet and bad thoughts led me into delusional thinking. I had to move home with my parents to recover. Tilll my father's death that was the blackest period of my life. Oddly enough, this period of breakdown was what gave me the strength ultimately, to deal with my father's death. Because I had gone so low and survived I had the inner fortitude to handle what he did.
I guess what I'm trying to say here is that sometimes the most adverse of conditions and situations can sometimes give us the strenghth we need to survive. I'd certainly prefer my father to still be with me but no amount of wishing will make it so.
Since my dad died I've also been brought to the brink of financial ruin by someone I thought loved me. She tortured me mentally and took the child she bore, that we conceived together. I've not seen my baby in almost five years. My mother has also died of lung cancer. I nursed her over to the other side.
Life is brutally hard a lot of the time. Not just for me, for all of us. Life's not a contest. It's a test . A test we need to give ourself a break from as often as possible. We need to be kind to ourselves. Do something good for yourself today and then see how far you can extend your kindness to others.
Until we are all able to express who we are without fear, none of us are truly free.