Last summer I had the most beautiful day. I took my girls to meet someone very dear to me in her little oasis on Salt Spring Island. It was the first time I had ever been and it was very important to me because she is someone I love very much and I was so happy to see her with my girls. It was the perfect day. Lunch on the marina, a stroll through the farmer's market. Time at the park, time at the water. Most of all time with beautiful people.
Introducing my girls to my friend was amazing and I loved walking back a few paces with my little one and listening to the conversation between her and my tween,
My tween told her about the "worst day of her life." The day of our break in.
The break in affected my girls. There is no part of that I will ever minimize. It affected how they feel in their home and if hurt them both.
But the break in was while no one was home (except our cat and dog who thankfully were unharmed), there was minimal damage, they mostly stole my jewellery and left the girls things alone. We were fortunate to have insurance. As upsetting as it was at the time, I can acknowledge how lucky we were that was all that occurred.
This was a moment I will never forget because I was hit with a feeling of gratitude so visceral it almost brought me to tears in the parking lot behind the consignment store on Salt Spring Island.
You see, my daughter was 11 that day. And by the time I was 11 I had gone through so much trauma that I couldn't have picked out one day as the worst day of my life. I don't say this for sympathy or to portray myself as a victim. I say this with nothing but gratitude that my daughters have no idea what that kind of pain feels like. My hope for them is they never will.
When I was about 11 I was asleep in my bed when a man broke into our townhouse. My two brothers and my baby sister were also asleep. That man violently ripped the man in my mother's bed out of her room and fought all the way down our stairs. A basketball sized hole in our drywall from where one of their heads went through the wall remained until we moved out. A daily reminder of the violence. A daily reminder that you weren't safe in your own home. I am sad to say this was not the only event of its kind. I testified in court at age 14 as a witness to a similar situation - another break-in, another assault.
But this is the thing. You can do it differently. You can see these types of pain and choose different for yourself. For your kids.
I am so proud to say my kids live in a stable loving home. I am so proud to say that they don't know the kind of stress I fought so hard to cover up each day when I was their age. I am so proud to say that they get to know the support and love they deserve. That their capacity and capabilities are limitless because they believe in themselves. That they know safety. That they know consistency.
You define your own life. You write your own script. You aren't defined by your beginning.
Do something good, write yourself a beautiful ending.
-Amanda.
