Getting off the trauma train

Nothing but the truth now. Nothing but the proof of what I am. The worst of what I came from, patterns I'm ashamed of. Things that even I don't understand. I tried to fix it, I tried to fight it. My head was twisted, my heart divided. My lies all collided. I don't know why I didn't trust you to be on my side. I broke into a million pieces, and I can't go back. But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass. The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony. My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like. Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head? I should've let the jagged edges meet the light instead. Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony. The song we couldn't write, this is what it sounds like. We're shattering the silence, we're rising, defiant. Shouting in the quiet, "You're not alone!" We listened to the demons, we let them get between us. But none of us are out here on our own. So we were cowards, so we were liars. So we're not heroes, we're still survivors! The dreamers, the fighters, no lying, I'm tired. But dive in the fire, and I'll be right here by your side.

My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like.

Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like.

Truth after all this time, our voices all combined,

When darkness meets the light, this is what it sounds like.*

I’ve been listening to the song, “What it sounds like” from the movie, KPOP Demon Hunters. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend giving it a watch. It was a sensation for a reason.

When I first saw it, I had two reactions. I loved it, but it also made me uncomfortable. Whenever anyone talked about it, I smiled and said it was a great movie. But I didn’t want to watch it a second time and I certainly didn’t want to listen to the soundtrack. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but I also didn’t want to dig around and find out.

Recently, while working out, this song came up. Because I wear headphones and blast the music, the lyrics hit me. Hard. So I replayed them. Again and again. Now, a song I barely acknowledged has become my anthem. It’s weird how music can do that.

I’m not going to lie. I’ve been struggling lately. I honestly feel like this happens a lot, but the truth is, it’s because I’m always working towards being better. At least, I’m trying. And that takes work. A lot of work.

If I didn’t care, if “good enough” was actually good enough, then I could get off the trauma train and live a fairly calm existence. But I don’t want to do that. I want to do better, be better, live better. Not better than anyone else, but better than I have in my past. My past. And my past is laden with suffering. And while I’m working on getting over it, acknowledging it causes me to relive it. And I don’t really want to do it. So I keep chugging along.

I know that burying thoughts and memories just makes it worse. Oh, it might seem better for a while. But ultimately, it all comes out in a wave of anger or frustration or fear. I would prefer to deal with it so I can just move on with my life. But like an onion, there are layers and layers take time to peel.

I’ve been working very hard at unravelling the tapestry of my life, the picture that includes my parents, their parents, etc. It is generational trauma that no one took the time (or knew how) to fix. However, it stops with me. I am weaving something different. But that is hard to do when you are working with certain materials and colors.

My DNA is filled with anger and hatred, by past filled with fear and sadness. How to take these dark colors, this rough material, and create a light, beautiful pattern? I’m doing my best.

I do have to be careful not to strive for perfection. Because I can’t win that game. I will never be perfect. Even though, in my youth, it was expected. “Perfection” is average and “average” is humiliating. Honor roll, Honor Society, scholarships.. all of that was expected not rewarded.

When I graduated with my Engineering degree, all I wanted was to get out, get away. But we had to celebrate my parent’s achievement. Nothing good was ever done in the shadows, just for the sake of doing good. It all had to be acknowledged, memorialized, so people could tell them how amazing they were. And that included what I did. It was never me. It was them.

When I eventually gave it up to be a stay at home mom, I was a complete disappointment to them. As if raising up children to do good in the world wasn’t acceptable. It wasn’t something they could brag about. Anyone can be a mom. Anyone could do what I was doing. I tried to fight the feelings of not being good enough. I taught my children things you couldn’t learn in a school (unfortunately).

How to be good people. How to give life meaning. How to be happy. What to look for in a life partner.

How to pray. How to have a conversation. How to scream at God but also how to cry at his feet. How to be real.

I taught them that honesty is important. Even when it’s hard.

I taught them how to apologize when they’ve been wrong. And how to accept that the apology might not be forgiven. But that the apology is still necessary.

In my immediate family, we argue and get irritated with each other’s differences. But we still love, accept and fight for each other.

Although my parents didn’t accept me for who I was, I am proud of the path I chose. I’m working on that being enough. My acceptance of who I am. Because I am a good mom, I’ve started a journal to mother myself. Tell myself all of the things that my parents should have said to me.

I have this image in my head, and I’m working on illustrating it. The picture of me as a young girl, constantly being criticized for being too loud, not focused, too much. Each time, a small part of me falls on the ground. Until eventually, the floor is covered and I am nothing. Nothing at all. So I look around and take pieces of other people. Things I like about them, I adopt as my own. Somone who stays calm. Someone who dresses nice. Someone who has beautiful hair. I tried to glue those pieces onto my body. Trying to create something in the emptiness.

I feel like a fraud. I know these are not my pieces. But everyone seems to like them, so I keep them. They make people happy. Some of them I like. Some of them feel weird. Like wearing scratchy wool against bare skin.

I’m trying to work through everything and figure out what is at the center. Who is the person that shed everything about herself just to make everyone else comfortable? I don’t know. And honestly, I’m afraid of unveiling her if I do figure out who she is. I’ve been covered by these faux pieces for so long, I don’t want to scare anyone. Mostly, I’m afraid of scaring those closest to me, those I love the most. I’m afraid of losing the only people who truly love me. My brain says that if they really love me, they won’t leave. But they do. They have.

Have you ever had a friend just drop you from their life? Out of nowhere, they don’t talk to you anymore? You reach out and they don’t respond. Or, if they do respond, when you try to set up an outing, they are incredibly busy? For years? There has to be a reason. If none is given, I make something up. There has to be reasoning and purpose for everything. At least, it does in my mind.

Have you ever had to drop someone from your life? Someone who is toxic and self-centered and draining? I will go over and over in my mind, reasons why a person is unhealthy for me. Reasons why I would be better off without their drama. I don’t take it lightly and it takes a lot for me to close a door. But once it is closed, it is locked.

People leave. That is the reality of this life.

I have had to leave people. That is also an unfortunate reality.

I guess all I can do, all any of us can do, really, is keep going. Keep moving.

Focus on the positive. Focus on blessings. Focus on what is going right. Focus on what I am good at doing. Focus on what makes me amazing.

Because I am amazing, I will focus on believing it.

Maybe this is true. Or maybe, these are just words on a page.

*Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Stephen Kirk / Hong Jun Park / Jenna Andrews / Ejae / Jeong Hun Seo / Daniel Rojas / Mark Sonnenblick / Hee Dong Nam / Joong Gyu Kwak / Yoo Han Lee

What It Sounds Like lyrics © Yg Entertainment, Wc Music Corp., Maisie Beats, Maisie Anthems, Sixteen Sound Music, The Black Label Inc.