During the global pandemic of 2020, one of the most important things I learned was that it is okay to acknowledge, out loud and without shame, that I am proud of myself for getting to this point in life in one piece.
That is no small thing when you’ve spent much of your life self-reliant, raising a child alone, surviving domestic violence, and doing your best to break cycles along the way.
As that realisation settled, something else became clearer too.
Many of the “issues” I had spent years navigating were not actually mine and not of my making. Somehow though, over time, they had become my responsibility to carry.
A couple of years ago, I found myself looking into the meaning of the word scapegoat. Its origins lie in the Bible, but the modern definition struck me immediately:
“A person who is blamed for the wrongdoings, mistakes, or faults of others, especially for reasons of expediency.”
When you truly understand the meaning of scapegoating within family dynamics and human relationships, it suddenly feels painfully obvious.
Sometimes people project blame elsewhere because accepting responsibility themselves feels too uncomfortable, too threatening, or too exposing.
Awareness changes things.
Perspective changes things too.
For a very long time, I looked at myself and my world through the eyes of others.
I measured myself using a gauge that belonged to somebody else.
I adjusted my behaviour, my appearance, my words, and even my thoughts to make other people feel more comfortable in my presence.
Then one day, in that strange suspended period of life, I realised something beautifully simple.
I’m me.
That’s it.
I’m me.
I’m a good, kind-hearted and loving person.
I’m loyal to the people who value me.
I’m a fierce champion for those I love.
I care deeply.
I love deeply.
I talk a lot when I’m with people, perhaps because so much of my life is spent alone.
And over the years, I discovered a way of making sense of the thoughts, experiences and observations constantly moving through my mind.
I write.
There is a great deal of it, quietly accumulated over time.
Slowly now, I’m beginning to place some of those words out into the world. To share. To connect. To support. To help others feel less alone.
But perhaps most importantly of all, to finally hear my own voice clearly and allow it to take up its rightful space in the world.
Word Count: 414 words
Date 15th June 2020
© SineadCKavanagh