Old Beyond My Years
Trigger Warning: This post contains mention of abuse
Christy Armendariz
3 min read
I had a best friend when I was very young — about six years old. She was even younger than me. Her name was also Christie, but spelled differently. I would spend the afternoons and weekends playing at her house. Her mom was a stay-at-home mom; gardened, canned foods and paid special care to her two young daughters. It was a peaceful place to spend the hours and days. We would play records of kids songs, play games and I especially loved that Christie had a play horse collection, something out of reach for toys in my home. There was no anger, violence or yelling at Christie’s house. It was safe.
A few things have stuck with me through all these years. Christie’s dad was also very attentive. I did not have an attentive dad, except to reprimand the five of us about something that was wrong. His favorite phrase directed at us was “no mind” with complete disgust. Christie’s dad, on the other hand, did things with his two daughters. He showed them how to garden, as this was one of his hobbies. I remember all of us cleaning and sweeping out the garage together. In our house, cleaning was a terrifying ordeal. Here, it was fun and engaging. I liked that they let me share in their family.
One summer, Christie’s dad was going to watch us while we all swim in a horse tank he had set up in the yard. I did not have a swimsuit and my house was only a block away, but her dad insisted that all of us could just wear our underwear, “it was no big deal,” he said, and we all did. I remember this instance so vividly because I thought it strange that a six-year-old would swim in her cotton underwear and nothing else. I knew it was acceptable for young babies, but me, a six-year-old?
As I wrapped my head around it at the time, I found comfort in the fact that he thought I was still so young, still needed so much care and attention. I welcomed the chance to slip back in time. Before I began to understand the realities of being vulnerable to the people around me.
This was not the first time Christie’s dad made me feel younger than I was, in order to make me feel the grooming was completely normal. I bring this up because oftentimes abuse is subtle. Abuse is disguised as care and love. We find it in our own families and the close community we wrap ourselves in. When those very environments are abusing a child’s trust, even if the child does not yet know it, it becomes built into the child’s psyche and makes the child even more available to abuse by others. They can begin to build new relationships on the examples provided to them through their own upbringing. And the destructive cycle continues.
I know how difficult it is to break cycles of relationships that for many are seen as destructive. For some, those same behaviors is how they were taught to show how they care for one another within the family or community they live. One of the most difficult things a person in those circumstances has to do is acknowledge that the behaviors were wrong. One may have to say to themselves, "The way people interacted with me as a child was abusive and created tools within me that can be destructive."
The best part about that statement is that they are TOOLS. They do not define you or your path forward, nor should they. They are just tools for you to use how YOU decide. Many will use them to continue the cycles of abuse. But some, although they have been given those same tools, harness them and drive them toward good. That could manifest into good for others, good for yourself, good for your family. YOU get to decide HOW to use those tools. My tools are grit, discipline, determination, and tenacity. All of which are very powerful for good or bad, but when stripped down to their core, they are just tools. You may have been shown how to use tools for bad, but YOU and only YOU get to decide how to use them now. What will you DO with your tools?