The taking of something that should have been yours – what to do

The taking of something that should have been yours... l ask myself, 'What does that actually mean?' The taking of things that l didn’t either want to lose or hand over, or let go of, has happened so many times to me in my life – far more times than frankly my soul could manage.

I lost so much, and if you are reading this, I am thinking that you have lost a great deal or you are going through a loss that feels so wounding, it is unbearable. 

So, join me here in how a resolve, a comfort which makes this liveable with, can be read here in my words so that l might share them with you. 

Alongside my own words, also in the words of others that resonate with me and that have lifted me through moments and days of searching to know and understand how l could and how l can not stoop low – “Stoop down low and pick up nothing”, as my Grandmother used to say to me.

That is never ever worth it. Because here is where we can allow ourselves to be outlined by the damage or the injustice.

Loss, having what matters taken from you, isn’t a punishment, but it can really feel like one. 

Let’s take a breath, a pause, here and really take that in.

Something that isn’t something, and yet feels like it is. 

So it’s based upon what someone else’s bad treatment of you can be internalised and translated as a wound, around a wound, it isn’t a fact. And it isn’t a fact because someone else says it is. Anymore than a series of events that hurt you are a judgement against you because you deserve the pain or the loss.

We can somehow know that intellectually, and yet if we weren’t ready, if we tried and tried to make things safe, or better, or safe and better, then the taking can feel like a violation and if we have had more than a few of these sequentially it can leave us with an awful and troubling question.

Is this what l deserve? The fear will be, maybe, that it is.

But it isn’t.

Loss is a part of life. And it is also a part of love. It is also a part of growing, a part of learning, and of becoming.

When we love deeply, when we hope and dream, when we invest in a belief, when we give our time to someone, or something, or both, probably, and it’s either torn away or unrequited, it hurts. It really hurts deeply. Because somehow, we weren’t met there.

I think this usually can be in our relationships and our hopes and dreams in them, and of course the belonging and the continued sharing, but it can also be in where our life has gone, or is going, and what is left behind not through choice, but by circumstance and at the hand of something, or someone who we thought had loved us. At our lowest, we even feel like God has deserted us, or does not love us.

But sometimes God takes someone or something out of our way because he has another plan for us. This can be hard to reconcile with.

But he always loves us.

So here in the ache and the loneliness of what has been taken, whilst l want to unpack and explore what that means, and how the story of the association we make and feel around it can be where we can actually heal. Here we are not alone. Here we are not alone because we find a purpose.

Pain does not always diminish with time. 

The hardest part can often be how we identify ourselves by what someone did, as if somehow that is what we not only engendered, but in our own felt identity will always continue to engender. 

Our inner critic louder than any support or prayer.

It isn’t, this is a story.

Now l am not writing this because l have learnt about it through studying it, but l have lived it and through it, and also with that feeling of having had things taken from me. A broken marriage, the absolute injustice of no support from that either financially or through shared responsibilities, serious family losses, being frightened and scared and poor and alone and lonely even in relationships that l had where l felt alone from inside of them, and it’s very hard to know where to place the grief and the trauma that it leaves behind. So l understand.

Rising above the pain that this tearing has left you with, and not letting it steal your goodness or rely upon your revenge, or ill wishes, is where you can walk out of this dark place. 

You haven’t been defeated by someone else’s bad actions or malevolence.

As a lady l admire a lot says, "You can speak it, you can cry over it, but don’t die over it. You will find good people, and good people will find you."

The power of changing your inner narrative

Letting go of the pain makes room for possibility. If the story the narrative has left you with is one of a tragedy, turn it into a testimony.

One of hope.

So, how do we do this?

Firstly, we have to believe in change, we have to believe change is possible.

This can be a tough call when we are immersed in pain and loss. But we can seek out inspiration. 

We can listen and watch inspirational things wherever we can find them, and in them, ask: What resonates with you? What can you keep and make your own?

You can remember the words, you can be inspired.

You can talk and share with someone you trust, someone who is in your corner.

You can create something new, buy a plant and watch it grow, paint your room a new colour, you can give and receive a smile. You can give something lovely to someone else, and in their joy, you can feel seen as someone worthwhile, and become part of the joy.

You can break down the story, that destructive narrative and create a new one with someone else, someone who celebrates who you are.

Today, this moment, is new; it is a chance to put away those old stories and be free to make new dreams.