My Reactions Were Never About the Moment
It could be said that I went through one traumatic experience after another during my childhood. Those experiences shaped not only my self-image but also the way I reacted to life. For many years, I could not understand why I responded so intensely to situations that other people considered insignificant. Today, I see that my reactions were not simply strange or irrational. They were survival responses that had developed to protect me from the pain I carried deep within.
The person who experienced this side of me most often was my husband. We were married for thirty-three years. At times, I reacted in ways that seemed completely opposite to what anyone would have expected. Things that should have brought me joy instead triggered sadness, anger, or other overwhelming emotional reactions. My self-image had become so deeply damaged by years of criticism of my appearance that my responses made little sense to those around me.
I remember one occasion when my husband came home with a small, beautiful mirror as a gift. He thought it was lovely and was looking forward to making me happy. The moment I opened the package; I burst into tears. I felt as though he was mocking the way I looked.
Today I understand that I was not reacting to the gift or to the mirror itself. I was reacting to all the voices from my past that had told me I was ugly.
I also remember when he had an old photograph of me enlarged from the early years of our relationship. He thought it was a beautiful picture and wanted to surprise me with something special. But all I could see were the flaws I believed were there. I became very angry, told him I hated the photograph, and withdrew into hurt and silence.
What I truly wanted was to cry. I could feel the lump in my throat and the heavy ache in my chest. But instead of allowing the tears to come, I fought to hold them back. The sadness turned into anger, and I expressed it through my facial expressions and my behavior toward him. Other people were present, so I could not cry or express what I was really feeling. Instead, I became silent.
That silence was not accidental. It had followed me since childhood. I had learned to swallow my tears and keep my pain locked inside.
Of course, my husband never expected me to react that way. He simply saw a beautiful photograph of me. I saw the image through the eyes of my inner critical voice that had been shaped by years of criticism.
These are only a few examples of the ways I reacted to my husband during those years. At the time, I did not even understand why I responded as I did. After the anger subsided, shame and guilt would take its place, leaving me feeling even worse about myself.
Today, I understand my behavior much more clearly. I now know that I was not reacting to the present moment itself. I was responding to old emotional wounds that were still living in my nervous system and my body.
