Thursday, 3 October 2013

"Freen" and her dream of peace

Just a short time ago, I couldn't answer the question, "what's your dream about?" Not even to myself.
Actually, I never had a real dream, something to canalise into study, work, and career. My dreams were more like vague fantasies of romance or rebellion, often unachievable.
The only answer I could think was "I just want to get away from here".
I didn't know where, when, how. Just, away. Freedom, that was my dream, I thought.
Freedom from my family, from the small village I was forced to live in, from all those infertile friendships, from all my sick relationships, from school, jobs and every annoying situation I was living.
I often wondered why I had this overwhelming need to escape, why couldn't I just be quiet and enjoy what I did have instead of craving what I did not. I tried to; sometimes it almost worked, until all I was trying to repress would explode so badly that it scared me. I was tired and desperate because I knew how positive I could be, but I couldn't see how. It was crazy, but I didn't give up and eventually I left.
Once I was finally far from my parent's house and that Godforsaken village, I always felt less the pressure of judgements, apathy, narrow-mindedness, flaunted ignorance, labels and people you would never have to deal with, if you only had the chance.
I was feeling better, more comfortable with myself and, as I grew up, I realised that my dream was not to escape, but rather to feel at home. My peace would be my real freedom: finding somewhere I belonged to.
Now that I knew what my goal was, I started focusing on my life and on what I could do to reach it.
One of the most difficult things I had to learn was to stop thinking I was worthless and did not deserve anything. Then, I began to say goodbye to people who didn't allow me to be happy, one by one.
I was almost reborn. A new blossom of me who really loved itself, for the first time.
There was only one big issue left, the most difficult and hurtful. A man, from whom I just couldn't get away from after all. I used to come back to him every time, willing to forgive him and forget all the pain he gave me, all the times he wasn't there for me, to start over again with all the love I could.
But this man was not my friend, nor boyfriend. He was my dad. The first man in my life, the first one who was supposed to love and protect me and make me feel important, which he never did. How could I love myself, if even my dad never did?
Clearly, the wall between me and my peace was my relationship with my own father.
Luckily, I was trying to rebuild my life, when, one day, I met the man who made it complete, for real.
We found each other and loved each other from the very start, with a new kind of love, so different from the ones I had known so far: it was healthy, fun but peaceful. Without violence, jealousy, tears, madness.
The path I chose for me had brought me straight into my dream's arms!
Patiently and kindly, he taught me how to face my deepest issues, one by one, rationally, together. He taught me how to trust him and let him love me. Maybe he learned something from me too, but actually he did so much for me I can't really tell what I've done for him.
We got married very soon, so strange for someone like me, always wanting to run away, yet I never had a doubt.
Here it was my peace, everything I wanted.
I feel free now, because I'm happy to be here, I don't want to be anywhere else.
My husband gave me more and more strength and the awareness of what I really deserve. Every time I suffered I felt less involved and closer to freedom. And then, suddenly, the final push: a little boy, not yet even born and yet so important. He is my dream that comes true.
Now everything changes, now I feel the strength I always needed, the strength to say goodbye to the past. The same strength you feel when breaking up with somebody that makes you insensitive to tears, promises, and memories and forces you to look further! Like a friend.
Well I've found that strength, it's right here inside me now.
It's my son's voice telling me: "Mom, I never saw you like this".
If one day my son will tell me these words, I will not be afraid of his answer when I will ask him: "Like what?"
He will simply answer: "So beautiful".

By Freen.
Freen's blog

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