Last night I woke up in the middle of the night all sweaty and scared. I was having a very disturbing and overwhelming nightmare. There were people (mainly relatives) from my past, my childhood home and my grandparents home. Everything was very confusing and pressuring.
And now I'm thinking do I dare to go on with this blog? There are so many things I have forced myself to forgive and to forget. What is going to happen if I let it all out? Is it really going to help me, or is it going to make me as miserable as I once was? This blog was just going to begin, I hadn't even written hardly anything about those things that have been haunting me. Do I dare to reveal my darkest secrets?
Even though I have these doubts now, I still want to believe I'm doing the right thing here. What I have experienced, what I have done have mold me to be the person I'm now, right? I have to go through this. To look all what has happened eye to eye and then finally let it all go. So that I can finally be free.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Saturday, September 26, 2015
It's a Big Big World
Since I was a little girl I knew that one day I would leave my hometown and move abroad. I was always especially fascinated about U.S. and I remember telling people that when I turn 18 I'll be moving to L.A! Well, it didn't really go quite that way, but there came a day that I left my small northern hometown for good.
In high school I was dreaming about going for an exchange student for a year to Japan, but then I chickened out and did not go, even though my parents were supporting that idea. After graduating from high school, I had no idea what should I do with my future, what I should study and where I should live. There was however one thing I knew, I have to get out of this place! I felt I don't belong there. All my family and my friends and my high school sweetheart seemed to be happy to live there. And I was suffocating. The small circles, strong norms how you should live your life. I wanted something more, I wanted to break free, I wanted to BE FREE. The last thing I wanted is to do was to settle down there, go to local college, get married and have two children and a dog! I wanted to see the world, experience everything it had to offer and leave everything behind.
I examined different possibilities to full fill my dream and the easiest and fastest option was to go for an Au Pair. And so I did. I found an international Au Pair agency and it did not take long when I found a host family and was ready to go!
My plane left early in the morning. My dad was still working (he had a night shift at the hospital) thus I didn't see him that morning, I said goodbye to Alex and my mother brought me to the airport. She was crying, I didn't, I guess I was so excited and nervous of what would happen next. And when I stepped into the plane I was smiling, almost laughing - I was free, I felt something good was happening. And I was so damn right about that.
In high school I was dreaming about going for an exchange student for a year to Japan, but then I chickened out and did not go, even though my parents were supporting that idea. After graduating from high school, I had no idea what should I do with my future, what I should study and where I should live. There was however one thing I knew, I have to get out of this place! I felt I don't belong there. All my family and my friends and my high school sweetheart seemed to be happy to live there. And I was suffocating. The small circles, strong norms how you should live your life. I wanted something more, I wanted to break free, I wanted to BE FREE. The last thing I wanted is to do was to settle down there, go to local college, get married and have two children and a dog! I wanted to see the world, experience everything it had to offer and leave everything behind.
I examined different possibilities to full fill my dream and the easiest and fastest option was to go for an Au Pair. And so I did. I found an international Au Pair agency and it did not take long when I found a host family and was ready to go!
My plane left early in the morning. My dad was still working (he had a night shift at the hospital) thus I didn't see him that morning, I said goodbye to Alex and my mother brought me to the airport. She was crying, I didn't, I guess I was so excited and nervous of what would happen next. And when I stepped into the plane I was smiling, almost laughing - I was free, I felt something good was happening. And I was so damn right about that.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Early Years Part 2 Alex
I have hardly no memories of the time before my little brother Alex was born. I was almost 5 years old when he arrived and made me a big sister. Alex was a gorgeous child, he had thick brown wavy hair and big green eyes. He was friendly, kind and everyone who knew him seemed to love him, well almost everyone.
There is one thing that Alex didn't have what I had: He did not have the need to please my parents, the way I had learnt to do from an early age. For example, my father was a huge sports man, he played tennis, volleyball, ran a lot and Alex wasn't interested in any of those at all and he wasn't afraid to show it. That annoyed my father a big time. My father was also a tough guy, didn't show much of his emotions and e.g. till today I have never seen him crying. My brother was the opposite, he showed all his feelings very openly. I remember one thing what happened when he was around 7 years old. We were watching a children's movie and the main character of the movie died, which made Alex cry. When my father saw this he was very upset to him and said "Stop that silly crying! Boys don't cry!".
When Alex hit the teens he didn't care that much of his school. Girls and partying were much more his league. Again, that was a huge difference for me, who was an A+ student, studied hard and hardly partied at all (I did have a boyfriend though!). Alex heard several times from my father sentences like "Why can't you be like your sister" or "With that kind of lifestyle you'll achieve nothing, you'll be nothing!". Every time when I happened to hear that it hurt me, but I never said anything. Neither did Alex, but I saw the anger, hate and also sadness in his eyes.
All my childhood I sensed that I was my father's favorite child and Alex was not the "right kind" for him. From my mother's side I never felt that, I think she equally loved us both as much. Alex and I used to fight the same way as I think all the siblings do. However, we always stayed close and I loved him a lot.
There is one thing that Alex didn't have what I had: He did not have the need to please my parents, the way I had learnt to do from an early age. For example, my father was a huge sports man, he played tennis, volleyball, ran a lot and Alex wasn't interested in any of those at all and he wasn't afraid to show it. That annoyed my father a big time. My father was also a tough guy, didn't show much of his emotions and e.g. till today I have never seen him crying. My brother was the opposite, he showed all his feelings very openly. I remember one thing what happened when he was around 7 years old. We were watching a children's movie and the main character of the movie died, which made Alex cry. When my father saw this he was very upset to him and said "Stop that silly crying! Boys don't cry!".
When Alex hit the teens he didn't care that much of his school. Girls and partying were much more his league. Again, that was a huge difference for me, who was an A+ student, studied hard and hardly partied at all (I did have a boyfriend though!). Alex heard several times from my father sentences like "Why can't you be like your sister" or "With that kind of lifestyle you'll achieve nothing, you'll be nothing!". Every time when I happened to hear that it hurt me, but I never said anything. Neither did Alex, but I saw the anger, hate and also sadness in his eyes.
All my childhood I sensed that I was my father's favorite child and Alex was not the "right kind" for him. From my mother's side I never felt that, I think she equally loved us both as much. Alex and I used to fight the same way as I think all the siblings do. However, we always stayed close and I loved him a lot.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Early years Part 1 Mommy's Confidant
Where does my story start?
I have always told people that my childhood was a happy one and I have believed that myself as well. But was it? For sure my childhood was safe and in many ways happy. We did many mice things together as family (sports, traveling, visiting friends) and I always knew that my parents loved me. Only now, when I have started to analyze my past more I have come to understand that there were some issues in my childhood actually that were not that perfect as I wanted to believe.
I grew up in a small town, in a middle class family. My dad was a general doctor and my mother was an accountant. I got a little brother Alex when I was 5 years old and a dog Max when I was 10. We lived in a nice and safe neighborhood with lots of families and children around.
So, from the outside everything was perfect. But there was something that was not even close to thatt, the constant battle between my parents. I'm not 100% sure of the reasons why the relationship between my parents was so difficult, but my best guess would be that my father had other woman/women. He was a handsome, charismatic man and also well aware of that. My mother used to complain so much about him to me: "Your father is lazy, difficult and arrogant". "If you'd ever known what your father has done you would understand me". I was her confidant, the person she poured her negative feelings when she was angry or miserable. She gave me repeatedly those little hints how bad person my dad is and how tired she is to live with such a person. She was also openly nagging at him about his laziness (my dad was working hard, but at home he hardly did any household chores) and how difficult person he is to live with. Sometimes my mother was openly threatening to leave us - She never did. My father on the other hand, has never said a bad word about my mother, ever.
It's actually really weird, that only now when I'm 40 I have let myself to admit, that my mother was really unfair. Of course I understand how hard it must have been to live with my father if he was unfaithful and how angry and humiliated she must have felt. But still, pouring it all to your child, that was not definitely right. I was so used to her behavior that I did not even question it back then, it was a normal life to me. And I must say, that even though my mother was nagging almost constantly about my father, she was a very loving and caring mother for me and my brother.
There has been a long time in my life that I have hated my father from the bottom of my heart. And only now I have started to question was my hate so strong towards him partially because of what my mother did through my childhood? Or was it just because of what kind of person my father was (I will write more about him soon), and how I so long time blamed him about a terrible tragedy what happened to my family later on? I don't know really, maybe my hate was a combination of those two.
I have always told people that my childhood was a happy one and I have believed that myself as well. But was it? For sure my childhood was safe and in many ways happy. We did many mice things together as family (sports, traveling, visiting friends) and I always knew that my parents loved me. Only now, when I have started to analyze my past more I have come to understand that there were some issues in my childhood actually that were not that perfect as I wanted to believe.
I grew up in a small town, in a middle class family. My dad was a general doctor and my mother was an accountant. I got a little brother Alex when I was 5 years old and a dog Max when I was 10. We lived in a nice and safe neighborhood with lots of families and children around.
So, from the outside everything was perfect. But there was something that was not even close to thatt, the constant battle between my parents. I'm not 100% sure of the reasons why the relationship between my parents was so difficult, but my best guess would be that my father had other woman/women. He was a handsome, charismatic man and also well aware of that. My mother used to complain so much about him to me: "Your father is lazy, difficult and arrogant". "If you'd ever known what your father has done you would understand me". I was her confidant, the person she poured her negative feelings when she was angry or miserable. She gave me repeatedly those little hints how bad person my dad is and how tired she is to live with such a person. She was also openly nagging at him about his laziness (my dad was working hard, but at home he hardly did any household chores) and how difficult person he is to live with. Sometimes my mother was openly threatening to leave us - She never did. My father on the other hand, has never said a bad word about my mother, ever.
It's actually really weird, that only now when I'm 40 I have let myself to admit, that my mother was really unfair. Of course I understand how hard it must have been to live with my father if he was unfaithful and how angry and humiliated she must have felt. But still, pouring it all to your child, that was not definitely right. I was so used to her behavior that I did not even question it back then, it was a normal life to me. And I must say, that even though my mother was nagging almost constantly about my father, she was a very loving and caring mother for me and my brother.
There has been a long time in my life that I have hated my father from the bottom of my heart. And only now I have started to question was my hate so strong towards him partially because of what my mother did through my childhood? Or was it just because of what kind of person my father was (I will write more about him soon), and how I so long time blamed him about a terrible tragedy what happened to my family later on? I don't know really, maybe my hate was a combination of those two.
Saturday, September 12, 2015
This is Me
I¨m Emilia, well that's not my real name, but that's the name that you will get to know me.
I live in Scandinavia. I'm a wife and a mother and I just turned 40. If you would see me like 99% of those people who actually know me see me, you would probably think that I'm a happy, successful and a beatiful woman. I have a great husband, handsome son, good career and I have a pretty home in a respected area in a big city. I'm kind, liked by many people, have couple of very good friends. I'm healthy, I have caring parents, great in-laws. I have travelled all around the world and continue to do that still. Sounds pretty perfect, right?
Like we all know, everything is not always what it seems. Especially in my case. I have faced many painful situations in my life. Some of them I have caused by myself, some of them have just happened. I have not told my full story to anyone. I went to see a psychologist this week (I was there to solve work related issues) and I mentioned a little bit about my past to him. He suggested that maybe I should start to write a diary about everything. It could work as a self therapy, he said. And that's the reason I decided to start to write this blog. At least I will try, I'm not sure if I can let myself to open those old wounds again. To let myself remember all the things that have hurt me so much. But I will try.
So, this will be My Walk to Freedom. To finally bury those old demons of mine, so that I could truly live my life to the fullest.
I live in Scandinavia. I'm a wife and a mother and I just turned 40. If you would see me like 99% of those people who actually know me see me, you would probably think that I'm a happy, successful and a beatiful woman. I have a great husband, handsome son, good career and I have a pretty home in a respected area in a big city. I'm kind, liked by many people, have couple of very good friends. I'm healthy, I have caring parents, great in-laws. I have travelled all around the world and continue to do that still. Sounds pretty perfect, right?
Like we all know, everything is not always what it seems. Especially in my case. I have faced many painful situations in my life. Some of them I have caused by myself, some of them have just happened. I have not told my full story to anyone. I went to see a psychologist this week (I was there to solve work related issues) and I mentioned a little bit about my past to him. He suggested that maybe I should start to write a diary about everything. It could work as a self therapy, he said. And that's the reason I decided to start to write this blog. At least I will try, I'm not sure if I can let myself to open those old wounds again. To let myself remember all the things that have hurt me so much. But I will try.
So, this will be My Walk to Freedom. To finally bury those old demons of mine, so that I could truly live my life to the fullest.
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