“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me,
“Let It Be” by The Beatles
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me,
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”
Growing up, I always felt like an imposter. No matter where I was or what I was doing, a persistent sense of not belonging shadowed my every step. I felt inherently different, as if I viewed the world through a lens that diverged sharply from the perspectives of those around me. My beliefs and opinions often stood in contrast to the mainstream viewpoints held by my peers.
The outsider.
Coming from an underprivileged background, negative stereotypes about poverty and disadvantage permeated my consciousness, deepening my feelings of inferiority and shaping my sense of self and my place in the world. Internalizing these beliefs, I began to equate the stereotypes with my personal worth and abilities. Surrounded by friends whose lives appeared to unfold within their stable households, my insecurities were amplified. I felt like an outsider, watching their ease with life’s uncertainties with longing. I envied their stability and sense of belonging, each comparison fueling a relentless undercurrent of inadequacy and ‘otherness,’ leaving me perpetually on the outside looking in.
The paradox.
My own family life was a paradox. In an increasingly bewildering and isolating world, my family was the only place where I felt protected from judgment and criticism. Yet, even within this semblance of belonging, confusion lingered. My parents, while my anchors, were not as present as I needed them to be. I craved something more from them, but I struggled to articulate these needs. This unspoken longing resulted in a mix of anger, frustration, and defiance. Despite this, my family remained my anchor, my source of unconditional love and support. Bound by an unspoken understanding, we respected each other and valued the institution of family immensely, coming together in times of celebration and need. My family was the bedrock of my existence, even if it wasn’t always what I needed it to be.
Loss of the matriarch.
However, bit by bit, the very foundation I spent my entire life cherishing and fighting for began to crumble. The turning point came with the loss of my mother. Her death was a blow from which I recently realized I have never fully recovered. Without our matriarch, our family struggled, lacking the guidance and reassurance she provided. Our true beacon in the storm was gone.
Bound by decisions that someone else made.
In the aftermath of this loss, my former husband left me. His departure compounded my grief, shaking my belief in the stability and permanence of relationships. I was bound by decisions that someone else made, which reshaped my definition and dreams for family. The abandonment did not stop there; members of my family—the very people I depended on and went to great lengths to support—turned their backs on me.
Each of these losses over the years felt like a dagger to the heart, eroding the dreams and aspirations I had held onto so tightly. I had spent my whole life fighting for something that now seemed irrevocably lost. The dream of a united, loving family had slipped through my fingers, leaving me to grapple with a profound sense of failure and futility.
Now, as I stand amidst the wreckage of my dreams, I am faced with a difficult truth: I need to learn how to let go. Letting go of the dreams that defined me, the relationships that shaped me, and the expectations that burdened me is not easy. It feels like giving up on a part of myself and the promise I made to my mom to keep our family together. But I realize that clinging to these shattered pieces is only prolonging my pain.
Acceptance.
Letting go does not mean forgetting or disregarding the past. Instead, it means accepting what has happened, forgiving myself for my perceived failures, and finding a new path forward. It means embracing the lessons learned from these experiences and using them to build a future that, while different from what I had envisioned, can still be fulfilling.
In this new journey, I am learning to redefine my sense of worth, not by societal standards or familial expectations, but by my own terms. I am learning to find joy and purpose in the present moment, to cherish the memories of the past without being imprisoned by them, and to open my heart to new possibilities.
The road ahead is uncertain, but I am determined to walk it with courage and grace. For the first time, I am allowing myself to be vulnerable, to acknowledge my pain, and to seek healing. I am learning to let go of what was and to embrace what is. This is my journey, and while it is fraught with challenges and will certainly include a fair share of mistakes, it is also filled with hope.