28 Jun when making a joke backfires and activates a childhood trauma…

When making a joke backfires and activates a childhood trauma…

This happened to me today and who knows I accidently activated one within the person on the receiving end or brought an insecurity to the surface of which I wasn’t aware. Whatever the reason, it activated something and I fucked up. And that was, quite plainly, brought to my attention. And so, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.

This mishap activated so much in me that I went from feeling hurt and feeling like a loser, to being angry and defensive, and then rational. And what I do in moments like these, when I’ve been able to let it sink in, is journal. While journaling I realised that it was my own childhood trauma that was activated in this moment. The trauma where I can never do the right thing, can never say the right thing. Where the words ‘see, I can’t do anything right’ race back and hit that little girl in me. And where trying to ‘fix’ the mishap only made it worse. In the end all I could do was be quiet and let it go.

Where the little girl in me felt threatened and hurt, causing her to go into panic mode. The woman in me can rationalise and see her mistake. Can see that her humour isn’t for everyone. Can see that there is a culture clash and can confirm that she doesn’t fit in in the world that she lives in. And so, what it activated in me is that I’ve always felt different. I always felt I didn’t fit in, didn’t belong. I wasn’t seen or heard and no matter how hard I would scream, I was ignored. I grew up in a country that doesn’t feel like home. And when I moved to my home country, I was seen as an outsider. Being too direct and open for the British culture. And so, I ended up back in the place I grew up in, not necessarily by choice, rather than circumstance. Every time I tried to leave, something kept me here or brought me back. So, there must be a reason, a reason for me to keep coming back to this place. We’re put on this earth with a destiny, and mine seems to be in this country. A country where I feel I don’t belong, don’t fit in, don’t feel myself. A country where I’m native in the language but can’t seem to express myself the correct way. I’m always misunderstood and can’t say the right things. Can’t get the right words out. Or my words are interpreted the wrong way. I’ve never truly understood the hidden meaning of the language, hence reverting to my mother tongue, English.

My upbringing wasn’t the same as the people I grew up with. We lived abroad, our ‘holidays’ were to the grandparents so for us they were trips back home, not holidays. My parents moved here before I was born and now that they’ve passed, I truly wonder what’s keeping me here. But the universe works in mysterious ways and seems to have a reason. If only I could figure out what that reason is. Is it the soul mate? Is it something else? Hopefully I’ll find out one day…

I’ve always felt misunderstood, not seen, and was labelled ‘difficult’. I’ve always felt ‘too much’. And I thought I’d dealt with it but today it came rushing back when I sat with the mishap to see why it triggered me so deeply. I hurt someone I love and probably got a red flag behind my name. When all I was doing was being cheeky.

So even when we do all the work, there will be moments that bring up the old hurt which we thought we had tackled. Someone we love will hold up a mirror which reflects an image we don’t like. Journaling helped me calm my nervous system and bring me back to a rational state. And now all I can do is move on. If it’s ruined a good relationship, then so be it. There will have been a reason for that as well. I just hope I can explain my reasoning without judgement. I admit I made a mistake. I see my mistake. I will learn from this mistake and will do my best for it not to happen again.

As I’m not great in expressing myself in Dutch and the translate tool isn’t very good in getting my feelings across, this blog will only be in English.