Healing Heartstrings

Each little girl’s childhood is truly special–even if the memories (good or bad) dredge up old aches and pains of the heart. And please, reader, if you yourself or someone you know did NOT have people early on in life to love on you or at all please know my heart and prayers are with you right now. I am not the person to boast or compare or belittle the stories of others, just pure love for you here my friend. But as I share a piece of healing I just experienced in regards to this topic, I can only hope you find your own very soon too.


Here’s a bit of backstory:

Being someone’s little girl was the norm growing up. Obviously, daddy’s girl was my favorite title but there were several family members (even if we weren’t necessarily blood) who hold a special place in my heart and vice versa.

I remember joyful memories of all shapes, colors, settings, happenings at different points of childhood shared amongst various hero figures: my dad, my grandfathers, my beloved neighbor turned grandfather, amongst others.

My dad, being a fireman, was naturally my first and still biggest hero here on Earth. He is larger than life, in all regards, and loves just the same. From too many inside jokes to list (“don’t get blowed up” was his signature goodbye to every event–from carpool drop off to whispering it walking down the aisle on my wedding day), a plethora of daddy daughter dates (more on that later), being my biggest cheerleader even in things he didn’t understand ( shouting “best in your row!” after every single piano recital and band concert), it’s safe to say that the bond between my father and I is pretty damn special.

I actually started writing this blog saying “the day my dad dies will break me” and I legit broke into sobs on the floor. had to be still for a while and just let the holy spirit speak to me in what I was feeling and honestly still hurting from with experiencing so much death so young in life.

You see, up until just half an hour ago I was carrying around the memories of being my dad’s little girl, and others, like they were the pedestal of happiness for my life now. I guess for me, to be shown that amount of love and affection inflated a certain expectation towards happiness when so, so much was showered down on me before. And I will be very honest with you, because for the sake of healing and transparency I feel compelled to, I have felt a sense of life (and even relationships like with my own husband) not measuring up ever since those experiences shared as someone’s little girl ended. My own husband has expressed to me he feels he doesn’t measure up to my standards.

Y’all. Bless. His. Heart.

I had/have (cause healing ain’t linear) deep abandonment issues, which I couldn’t even put that label on it until today, until I finally had clarity to why so much of my happiness seemed to keep falling short in my relationships with others. . .I forgot who’s little girl I still am and always have been and always will be. I put idols of memories in my mind that made others feel inadequate to my love because theirs didn’t match prior given by men in my life (#howsthatdrphil).

Let’s put it this way, I just had a coming to Jesus meeting with Jesus. on my knees. in my apartment. without a soul around. the day before my 28th birthday (honestly a miracle in itself to be toddler-free, not working, and slowing down enough to allow the quiet time).

I desperately needed to be reminded that NO MAN’S LOVE IS LIKE GOD’S LOVE because He is the everlasting father. the hero above all others. the savior for sanity. the peace through devastation. the satisfaction when this world just doesn’t cut it. the joy. the hope. the true happiness source of unconditional love.

Why did it take me nearly three decades to have this revelation of the heart? To finally come to terms with so many misdirected feelings of grief and resentment and angst? Who knows. But Lord knows I am immensely grateful for the healing that is to follow for finally being able to explain something weighing so heavily on the heart for so many years. My husband will be happy too I think. After all, happy wife = happy life, eh?




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s