Approximate reading time: 8min
Written on the 30th October 2021
Last night I watched a mini-series
(On Netflix)
About a boy tortured by his parents
(It’s enough to make you feel sick)
Gabriel Fernandez, a gorgeous
8-year-old child
Who for 8 months of his life
Was so unbelievably defiled
Until it ended with his fatal beating
(In 2013)
The wounds on his poor body
Too horrible to believe
I won’t recount the details
Of what this child had to endure
His unimaginable pain
How he was left to languor
Although his abuse was incredibly
Vile and ferocious
There was something that made it
Even more atrocious
The fact that so many people
Reported what was going on
To social workers and the police
Yet nothing was done
Checks made to the house
(They believed the parents lies)
Gabriel was simply a naughty
Misbehaving, spoilt child
Or that he wasn’t there at that moment
He was out for the day
With Gabriel chained and gagged in a cupboard
A mere 10 feet away
What was also so poignant
So sad from the very start
How this little boy had such a loving
Kind and caring heart
How he loved his abuses
(Especially his mum)
Even after everything
This toxic woman had done
The Mother’s Day card made
(One week before his death)
Showed love and admiration
That you would hardly expect
For someone who was so
Undoubtably cruel….
Someone who’d kept him living
In a poisonous cesspool
He even filled in a little ‘love’ voucher
As best as he could
With the heart-breaking words
“ Mummy I will be good”
It got me thinking about how children
Find it so hard to see
Damage in their parents
It’s almost impossible for them to believe
That the choices and behaviours
Of their carers could ever be
Anything other than normal
There is just no way for them to see
What healthy looks like
When they have nothing to compare
How could they possibly recognise
They live with the antithesis of genuine care
But what I noticed coming up
For me as well
Was a fair amount of shame
That I found hard to dispel
This voice in my head:
“Look at the reality…
You think you had it hard?
You had it easy!
Billions of children
Experience horrendous abuse everyday…
For fuck sakes this kid
Was used as an ashtray!
There are so many ‘real’ heartaches
Happening in this world
And you think your experiences
Are worthy of being heard?”
I wondered to myself
Whose voice this was
That minimalizes and shames me
Just simply because…..
She doesn’t see value in my experiences
Or my own pain
And secretly wishes
I’d shut up and refrain….
From writing my stories
Wearing my heart on my sleeve
Opening up to the world
All the varied parts of me
I then came to the realization
This was Mara-Keres
My bitter teenage part
Who so often rears her head
During CI sessions with practice clients
I so often hear her whine
Honestly, she won’t zip it
For most of the time
Because as I listen to other people’s stories
As they share their own pain
She continually evaluates them
Then points a finger of blame
Especially if she thinks
Their suffering was worse
Their stories are more ‘tangible’
More significant or perverse
But last night I was conscious
About what was happening this time
And in this morning’s meditation
Mara-Keres came to mind
I decided to ask her
Why she repeatedly goes down this road
Of invalidating my experiences
In an attempt to erode…
My confidence and my belief
That my voice too has a place
No visible trauma
But still feeling so lost and displaced…
“Honestly”
she said
“I just don’t want you to get hurt
My job is to keep you safe
Immobile and inert
Because if you publish your writing
There are only two out comes I can see
First no one reads it
OMG
What would that mean?
Or worse yet
Imagine if it’s read by a few
How will you handle the criticism
That will inevitably come through?
Because let’s face it
Being a creative of any kind
Means dealing with criticism
Having you work maligned
You are just not strong enough
Your heart will simply break
It will be crushed and destroyed
Make no mistake!”
As I listened to her
I validated her fears and concerns
And then My ‘S’elf stepped in
To more calmly discern
Deep down in my core
I heard my internal mother say….
“That may all be true
At the end of the day
But there is a third option
That you are stronger
Than you truly know
And isn’t learning to deal with criticism
How we actually grow?
And what if simply learning
How to value your own heart
Has the power to help someone else
To be curious about their own parts?
Look at how much you have grown
How you have learnt to understand
The hurtful effects of developmental trauma
You have experienced them first-hand
It’s not just the presence of a catastrophe
Or violent physical abuse
It’s not something fundamentally awful
That might have happened to you
It’s simply a child not receiving
What they truly need
To foster a happy
And healthy self -esteem
It’s about growing up anxious
Never feeling emotionally contained
Never having the words to describe
Your emotions or explain
Imagine for a minute
If you helped one person, feel OK
That they felt validated to experience
Their own inner pain
Because when we minimalize and discredit
All that we have felt
When we continually compare
The hand we were dealt
All we do is keep ourselves
Stuck in the pain
We replay the same loops
Nothing can ever change
It takes courage and strength
To make space for our inner child
Allow them to be seen
So, their emotions can be reconciled
By allowing them the space
to simply reflect and grieve
To begin emotionally processing
What their experiences mean
By stripping down the walls
They have unconsciously built up
You’re more able to open
And authentically love
First yourself
But then those around you…
Isn’t that what you have always
Wanted to do?”
As I listened to my internal mother
I felt as proud as can be
(Because let’s face it
She really is just me;-)
I gave Mara-Kares a hug
I thanked her for her care
She’s done a wonderful job of protecting me
Consistently through the years
I reassured her that I’m now stronger
I’m no longer that little girl
And I’ll make sure I’m ready before
I release my heart into the world
I asked her if maybe
She could simply step back
And have faith in the universe
I am on the right track