Time to Forgive and Forget

As I left my room, I noticed a beautiful painting. It was a watercolour of two people dancing. I felt like raising my arms and flying down the staircase to the spa. Dancing is such a freeing experience. Our bodies flow to the music and all the troubles of the world vanish. My thoughts came to a halt as I approached the spa. Inside it appeared to be quiet. I knew this was going to be a wonderful experience. That thought vanished as soon as I heard other ladies enter the room for their manicure and pedicure. I willed myself to ignore them and focus on the beauty of my own treatments. That did not work. I kept listening to their stories. Ruby, the lady two chairs to the right of me, was telling her sister Judy about all of her regrets from childhood. Judy was trying to guarantee her stories were better and juicier than Ruby’s. “Judy do you remember our childhood very well?” “Naturally, Ruby, don’t you?” “I mean all the bad things that happened to us.” “How could I ever forget, Ruby?” “Do you remember the time we were behind the house and the neighbour’s kids convinced us to take three cigarettes from our father’s package?” “You didn’t want to do it, Ruby. They badgered you and intimated you until you agreed to do it.” “You know Judy, I still feel guilty about that. I shouldn’t have done it. I wanted them to like me and I thought the only way they would, would be if I did what they wanted.” “I know. You were only seven. What do you expect? We all do stupid things when we are young.” “But do we all regret those things in our adulthood, Judy?” “I think the dumb things we do in our childhood always haunt us in our adulthood.” “Well what’s one thing you remember from our childhood?” “I remember telling our oldest sister a true story of something that happened to me. She went to mom and said it was a lie and I was making it up. She laughed at me, made fun of me, and said that my imagination was running away with me.” “What did you do, Judy?” “I went to my room, covered up in the bed clothes and cried until I fell asleep. I never trusted Joan after that. I felt really bad about myself and thought I was to blame for the incident. I hated myself to the point I wanted to change my name.” “Why change your name?” “I thought that if I created a new identity things would be better. I thought our family would trust me and believe me. Most importantly, I thought I would be loved. Ruby, all I wanted was to be loved for who I was.” “Didn’t you feel loved?” “No, did you?” “Not really. I was always seeking someone’s approval. I think I lost myself somewhere back there.” “I think that is why I never feel happy. It’s as if I’m waiting for the next shoe to drop all the time.” “I think I go from contentment to depression. I never really have ten good months in a row.” “Ruby, this conversation is depressing me. Can we pick it up when we are alone – later maybe?” “For sure. Sorry for bringing your mood down.” “You didn‘t bring it down. That’s why I’m here – to bring it up.” As I listened to that conversation, it was like déjà vu. I remember feeling very unloved. I thought I must have been adopted. These people couldn’t be my real parents. If I was their child, I would automatically be loved. They would want to celebrate my gifts, teach me when I made mistakes, and mentor me as I pass through the ages and stages of childhood. The truth is I didn’t feel loved. I was punished when I made a mistake. I was never mentored. I didn’t think I had any gifts. I felt as if I was in the way, a burden to be endured. I never really recovered from that feeling. It hit me. I am exactly the same as Ruby and Judy. I feel just like they do. Maybe we had different experiences but the results were the same. The deep sadness was overwhelming. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. There were no tears – the sadness was too painful. Here I was with Hollywood finger nails and toe nails. My hair was done to perfection and I felt like an invisible, unwanted and unloved creature. As I entered my room, I couldn’t remember if I thanked the staff. I didn’t hear the soft corridor music. I was like a zombie. I had no idea how I was going to deal with this situation. If I didn’t do something my perfect holiday would be ruined.