When you feel unwanted

When someone is reflecting on past pain (after years of not understanding the deep internal struggle they have been facing), and they are met with the statement “You need to stop living in the past,” it is not just dismissive, but it represents a moment they fought hard for.

A moment to grasp how to reconnect two things that have been torn apart, and if those memories can be stitched together with compassion and understanding, it can lead to healing that pain.

The topic of estrangement tends to evoke strong emotions in those who are not open to hearing what the estranged have to say or the impact it may have.

“But, she’s your mother.”
“Family is everything.”
“They did the best they could.”
“But, they’re your family.”

I wish there were a way to prevent toxic projections. A safe word, a rope you could pull to splash water on their faces, or a magnet to keep their lips sealed, allowing a moment of silence, curiosity, and space for the estranged to express their truth.

Here’s what you will discover:

Many who become estranged did so after years of being the only one in their family speaking the truth about abuse in their home.

Many who become estranged did not recognize the abuse because it was the only behavior they knew. They became estranged because as adults, they realized the abuse would never stop.

Many who become estranged have never received an apology for the abuse that left them struggling daily with their minds and bodies.

Many who become estranged have grappled with a sense of belonging because the people they longed for the most let them go when they tried to heal.

That unwelcome part.

The part where you live with the rejection of family or the ignored invitation to join you in healing—it’s bitter.

Any survivor of childhood trauma who has endured abuse understands the complexity of growing older and the challenges of managing the intricate parts of self-relationship growing more difficult.

Not because you are unworthy, but because no one has explained the trauma or guided them towards relief.

Then, that person summons the courage to confront those painful memories, they fight, grieve, heal, and on the other side, the people who hurt them are no longer there.

Those individuals could not handle the words spoken. They refused to acknowledge that you needed them to stay so you could recognize the importance of your healing.

The sharp pain from our wounded parts spreads rapidly, seeking validation and layering it on top of existing pain:

“It was your fault for not handling the abuse better.”
“Everyone else is fine. You were the issue.”
“You should have kept quiet.”

There is a weighty space where abuse survivors reside, agreeing that they deserve it to keep the only familiar people close or regretting speaking their truth with uncertainty about who truly loved them unconditionally.

The complex pain of desiring connection while fearing how to establish it.

I believe community and relationships are crucial for healing. I commend those who are navigating this journey independently
.

But, I challenge the unwelcome narrative.

Unwanted to speak your truth? Yes.

Unwanted for being unlovable? No.

Unwanted is a sentiment experienced by many who were the first to speak out.

Yet, the Bible assures us of God’s unwavering love. Do I trust His sincerity? Do I have faith that He will not forsake me?

God is love. We are desired by One who harbors no hidden agendas or deceitful motives. His love mends our wounds and comforts our hearts. And when we surrender to Him, there is no fear of what tomorrow holds.

For the morning brings the assurance that we are already wanted.
We are redeemed by the One who possesses the power to redeem. Every lesser love pales in comparison.

To know that love is of God and to enter into the secret place leaning upon the arm of the Beloved — this and only this can cast out fear. —A. W. Tozer, The knowledge of the Holy