This one's for you, little me.

You are owed and deserving of unconditional love 

There was nothing but quiet retractions

And families pleading, "Don't look in that cabinet

There's far more bad than there's good, I don't know how it got there"

That was something your father had burned in me

Twenty hours out of Homestake eternity

"You can go anywhere but you are where you came from"

Little girl, you are cursed by my ancestry

There is nothing but darkness and agony

I can not only see, but you stopped me from blinking

Let me watch you as close as a memory

Let me hold you above all the misery

Let me open my eyes and be glad that I got here

~Andy Hull

I know I write a lot of my self proclaimed transformation over the past.... years. It's central to the present day Kali. The one that has to sometimes drag herself out of bed to get the day going. The same person that has done daily reflections, whether intentional or not. Just as I've gotten a foothold on a different level, I'm catapulted forward and up. I have no choice but keep going. It's not humble or noteworthy, but it's mine. 

2021 was the year that I realized that I show up for my son as I wished someone showed up for me. Those someone's being parents. My grandparents were far more instrumental than they know, and more than I ever expressed. Someday I'll be able to tell them. I hope they know. I hope they knew. 

This year, 2022.. this...this is the year I show up for myself. Full send if you will. I'm showing up for myself as the person I needed. Showing up for my son felt natural. Partly primal and instinctual, mostly out of love. The being who's ever heard me from the inside, and the only person who ever will, He is the reason I show up. The reason why I keep going. He's the reason why I'm showing up for myself. 

Showing up for myself delves into reflection and pain. Chaos in memories and questions of the past give way to present day boundaries which continue to be challenged. Until death. This I am sure. 

I did nearly 20 years worth of therapy in my attempts at 'coming to terms' with the shit I lived through with my egg donor. I've written enough about this so I don't need to pop the top on that can. Now, I'm sure I'm destined to spend the next 20 years in therapy dealing with my father. 

He's dying. 

He's terminal.

He's battling alcohol use disorder. 

I can't tolerate it any longer. 

The continued pitting one against another between those closest to him to continue the lies has created such a divide between 'us' and 'him'. I've realized I've lost so much because of this. I've realized just how damaging this has been to all involved. Between myself and my brother, and myself and my step mom.. these are relationships that I've started rebuilding while omitting my father from them. I've come to realize the lies, and the pitting. 

I've gone full no contact with my father. 

I cannot heal myself and be there for me as I'm getting back into some serious therapy if he's an unwilling participant in his own healing. That door is shut. I have no regrets. None. 

Now comes the hard part. I need to show up for me. Every day. For myself as I am now. For as I was. For the little girl deep, deep inside who's still confused why she wasn't protected and felt the love a child should. For the girl who tried so hard to be perfect just to get the recognition by her parents that never came. For the same girl as a young adult that pushed that little girl so far down deep that she hoped to shut her up so she didn't have to deal with that pain. For the grown woman who was scared to have kids because she didn't know how to mother because she never had that. For the same person who started the self reflection as her son grew, knowing she would never in a million years do to him what was done to her. I'm showing up for me. I'm showing up for my son. 

There is nothing you keep there is only a reflection.