On Being Pushed by Susan L.

  During the conversation about relationships with my psychiatrist I told him I don't like being pushed. He smiled and said his job wasn't all about patting me on the hand and praising me. It was his job to push as well.
  I asked myself why I don't like being pushed.
  The answer came in an avalanche of understanding.
  Part of it is about trusting myself to make the right choices. I struggle over cereal in the grocery store. I haven't had a good track record there. I've got the PTSD to remind me of that.(Yes, I know it isn't all my fault, others made choices that impacted me terribly. I am still grieving that aspect of my life.)
  Mostly it makes me angry because the pusher is acting on what they feel is best for me, that I need to conform to their ideas for my life. Being pushed robs me of my rights to be a wholly independent, self-governing person (with God at the helm of course). It smears my personhood with shame and raises doubt within myself about myself when there is nothing to be ashamed of. It sends a sledge hammer message that I am not good enough just as I am, at least, according to the one doing the pushing.
  I am a human so yes, I know there is room for growth. Yes, I know there is much need of healing. Yes, I know there are still skeletons that need facing. When I am ready, I jump, feet first, into the depths. When I am ready I'll do what needs to be done, go where I need to go, surrender what needs to be surrendered. I will choose to forgive what needs to be forgiven and ask to be forgiven! I trust the Holy Spirit to lead me. I surrender to God's will for my future.
  Being pushed was the story of my life. I conformed to what others expected of me for as long as I can remember, so much so that by the final years of my marriage, even my thoughts, ideas and opinions were not my own. All I ever wanted to do was please others, to make them happy. (Impossible, I know.) I worked so darn hard to be good enough but it was never enough. Somehow I never seemed to measure up; what I did never measured up. How I acted, felt, looked, created, worked was less than acceptable. That sick message was hammered home time and time again.
  Abusers are adept at stripping any shreds of self-confidence away. It's how they keep control. I am still digging myself out from under the lies with God's help and God's truth filling in the holes.
  I am not disposable! I AM worth loving just as I am! (Help me, Lord, believe these things in my heart.)
  I don't want to get on that particular hamster wheel ever again, of allowing others to push me in a direction of their deciding, doctor or no doctor, because NO ONE has the right to decide on my behalf what is best for me!
  As for a relationship with a man? If that is a barometer of wellness, there's something seriously wrong with this picture.
  "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." Rev 21:4
  AMEN!