As expected, my parents are disgusted by my piercing. But they still love and accept ME. It is like I am an adolescent - learning how to be myself within my family of origin. Finally, after all these years of therapy, recovery, and hard work on understanding myself, I am finding some strength to do this at the core level. It is hard, but it's the best.
My parents went grocery shopping while I was at my therapist. My mom and I cooked all day for our holiday dinner in the evening. My dad picked up my daughter from her school and took her to the aquarium for the afternoon. All of it happened with smiles. Is that not love? My invited guests were 2 single moms with family far away, and their kids. We were 13 in all. We said blessings, ate apples dipped in honey to symbolize a sweet year, and shared good food.
Eight years ago my parents were in my home on the Jewish New Year. I was so ill with OCD that my mother cried while lighting the holiday candles. I was in bed, obsessing and delusional. There was no holiday dinner.
A cure is not important. What we have is the potential to heal. Without the support of other wounded healers, I am not sure I would have the fortitude to stay on the path. My kids took it all for granted - friends, family, a holiday dinner, a smiling mom, love. They don't have a clue about what a miracle last night truly was. But I do. And for both those facts, I am truly grateful.