An Excerpt of The Scars from Allie's Story....
This is Me : raw. No make-up.
I am a trained make-up artist, not just as a career but to protect myself – to survive. In this story though you get The Real. Nothing powdered, nothing prettified, nothing lipsticked into tidiness. Just truth. Just Me and my scars and how I am coming out the other side…
A few memories of childhood
These are my parents.
Polar opposites in every possible way. My Dad : the Provider, property developer, robot, alcoholic. My Mum : the (wounded) nurturer, creative, emotional, intuitive.
I was always a very magical child away with the fairies. The earliest thought I can remember was standing on the deck outside when I was 5-years old, crying and wishing upon a star to “Please! Please! help me be happy.”
Dad was never home. He was out cheating, drinking and working.
Mum did not have a life of her own. She had my oldest brother when she was 18, a shot-gun marriage. Six years later she had me. Five years after that, my younger brother arrived and 5- years after that, finally - my sister.
Mum was bed bound and depressed for years. She used food to numb herself and binged, shopped, cried, vented to random strangers or to Me, regardless of my age, anything to numb her pain.
There were countless times when I was too young to walk home, the last one at school because no one would remember to pick me up.
My memories of my childhood are all but a blur.
I recall Dad throwing my big brother down the stairs. Constantly screaming at Mum and the two of them fighting, throwing Chinese food on the ceiling, a solid wooden shoe once hurled at our cats.
They were constantly on and off. A wild toxic connection between the two of them. I have moved house more times than my age. There were no ‘Parent Trap’ intentions, I hated them when they were together.
I survived by not being my Mum. Instead I became the classic “Angry teenager" My hair was all of the colors of the rainbow. I had pierced all parts of my ears, my belly button, my lips the side of my face, my chest and my cheek.
I cut a star into my hand with a Stanley knife and remember feeling nothing.
Mum was too sick to function and Dad would not allow anyone to express their feelings.
He didn't understand hurt, he would just tell you to suck it up... so I became angry.
I became furious.
Everything was so wrong.
I fought everything and everyone, the whole world felt dark and utterly against me.
I dated a guy who was a year older when I was 14-years old. I stole a bottle of bourbon from the liquor cabinet and snuck out to see him at a party he was having late one night. I mixed the bourbon with Lift and finished the bottle, sitting in a corner. This was the first time I had ever drunk spirits.
I remember standing up to see a few guys watching TV in the lounge then everything went blank.
I don't remember vomiting.
I don't remember the ambulance.
I don't remember ripping the drip out of my arm with blood squirting across the room.
I don't remember trying to bite the doctor...
An Excerpt of 'Made Beautiful' from Allie's Story....
Poetry helps me.
Kindness and nurture-
reflection of the soul.
For those less aware
Inner beauty is still a form of external beauty-
Which is merely
being promoted in a more 'natural' way.
Open your heart to a worth deeper than your own,
Have compassion and empathy
Every living thing.
For that is when you will witness,
Something truly beautiful-
I now value the small beautiful things. I truly see them. I was very dark for a long time. As the haze starts to clear in my life daily, I nurture my own gentle soul. Ironically the more gentle and nurturing I am with myself, the more I begin to see, to feel my own strength.
My Lover has taught me to go easy on myself, to accept all my colors. He says “intelligence doesn't necessarily mean book smart” and that I'm not crazy to love and be loved.
Most importantly, what is healing me is the end to the War energy I grew up with – between anger and victim, between Woman and Man, between Earth and Sky.
I now know there really are amazing awakened and beautiful men out there. I am no longer afraid of their energy. Everyone has their own story and does stuff for reasons!
Now I feel grateful that I was kicked out of home so young. Without that scar I would have been a heartless person. I wouldn't have the strength and ambition I have now.
Ryan and I live in Canada and we have started our own life together.
I don't feel safe when I'm around Dad but I'm no longer in survival mode and scared of him. With a narcissist, it is always their way or the highway. I have learned how to stand in my own power around him. I won’t stop.
I guess my message for other intuitive women who feel that the world or angry people are against you, is this…
The most important thing is to be aware of what is really going on. Seek help from those who are calm and neutral – outside the screwed up world you may be in. Listen to your body. Listen to your heart. They don’t lie.
Stay true to your feelings, they are there for a reason, so don't ignore them. Don’t send them down somewhere deep and angry. When you are living with a bully, don’t blame or doubt yourself, the problem is not you – it is their inability to deal with anger.
Don't rush yourself...
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Copyright Made Beautiful by Scars book series 2016
Made Beautiful By Scars...