TURNING FORTY

Forty was a wall I hit at full speed while looking in another direction. I was mad at the world when forty ambushed me. Irritable and cranky became my favorite moods. My normal smile and “good morning” became more of a grunt.

I decided to go to the Employee Assistance Program at work. I thought a couple hours of venting from me, with encouraging words from a therapist, and I would be good as new. Off I went with referral in hand to see a counselor named Kathy. She was ready, willing, and able to help me with my turning forty sucks attitude.

With Kathy’s help, I was able to figure out what was bothering me. The age of forty had significance in my past. Forty was my mother’s age when she remarried. Our new family was agreeable for a short time. However, things are not always as they seem. My stepfather, John, began to sexually abuse me. I lived in a constant state of fear and dread of him. In my ten-year-old mind, I did not know what to do. It never occurred to me to tell anyone.

One night my mother caught him coming out of my room. I heard muffled voices in the hall. Mother came in to my room and stood there showing no emotion what so ever. She asked a few pointed questions and left. I was a scared and confused little girl. By her actions, I thought I must have done something wrong. It was never mentioned again. The abuse stopped.

My parents continued as if nothing had ever happened. They slept in the same bed, she cooked his meals, and they stayed together. She kept her “meal ticket” and went on to have two children with him, thus securing her position even more.

I tried to follow their example and pretend everything was fine. It was not. Inside I felt like I must have done something wrong, something to cause this. Over the next thirty years, I tried to be a perfect daughter. Always hoping she might acknowledge and love me.

My catalyst came when I turned forty. Now I was the same age she was when John abused me. As a forty-year-old mother with a daughter of my own, I cannot comprehend why a mother would react the way she did. I could never let a man harm my child and get away with it.

Thirty years of anger, resentment, and bile found its way to the surface. It could not be pushed down any longer. This woman chose to stay with a man who molested her daughter. Did she ever give any thought to the damage it caused? For the first time, I took a long hard look at my life. I decided I did not want the next forty years to be like the first forty. I didn’t want to be the scared child hiding in the corner any longer. That decision required me to dig down deep into my soul to start making some very difficult yet freeing changes. One issue I had to face was the fact that I could not change anyone. People make their own choices. That’s life.

I have a poem with a line that reads, “If you cannot change the people around you, then change the people you are around.” Some people may not be good for us, even if they are family. Sadly, they probably never will be. I care about my mother, but from a distance.

Facing inner demons and making changes is enormously difficult yet empowering. My life is better now that I hit the wall called forty. It took turning 40 to discover how strong I truly am.

(Until I hit the wall called "50", but that's another blog)