Unable to comment. This makes me think, understand and recoile and cry. It’s that really really hot stuff that reminds me of some wrongdoing I did to the neighbors chickens. I didn’t want to do wrong to them though. I was just lonely, feeding them grass through that fence so they would want to come close and I could touch their shiny feathers. But they never wanted to be touched. So what I did was ambush them and grab some wings —-
And held tight — even after they screamed the heck out of those next two kilometers of village. Nobody heard them. Nobody cared. But I didn’t let go because nobody was talking to me and our dog was tired. Of course I lost the last affection I had gotten from that whole chicken tribe.
Yeah. Being vulnerable can mean we also did wrong to the beings smaller than us
For jealousy of their tribe happiness?
For wanting hugs nobody gave me by holding tight on wings not given to me?
By hearing the chicken scream for its life because it thought I was the big bad wolf?
I don’t know exactly
Yet some days later one of that chicken tribe got executed with a knife and I saw it running away without a head.
I was all shocked by the cruelty of the owner and had nightmares of me running around without any head on my shoulders for having hurt that one chicken by holding on to its wing through that fence.
Uuugh that would be a nice post. Chickens can be such lovable friends if they grow up with loving caretakers.
Have YOU ever done wrong to a smaller being because the pain inside you made you cruel for a moment and you were too small to realize what you were doing??
That's so similar. We were both lost and didn't know how to fix it. I think I was 6 because that's when my dad remarried. I basically ceased to exist to him after that. Thank you for sharing your story. I have always loved all animals. Probably because they were safe.
The way you talk about that moment doesn’t feel performative or moral, it feels like someone finally letting themselves say the thing they were never allowed to say out loud. The line about swallowing fire and folding yourself into someone tolerable really stayed with me. It explains so much, without excusing anything. And the last part about your mother, about living as the only way to answer that kind of love, felt very real and very you. I’m glad you wrote this, even if you didn’t plan to and even more glad that you shared this with me.
Thank you. I didn’t have words for that moment when it was happening — only the feeling — and writing it was a way of finally telling the truth without excusing it. I’m really grateful you felt that, especially the part about my mom.
I think many of us spend our adulthood trying to figure out how to reshape ourselves outside of that initial damage. This reads like something you didn’t want to write but needed to. It carries weight, and it deserves the quiet it creates. Thank you.
Being a kid in the 70's I came from what I thought was a normal house. Alcoholic anger and beatings. My friends had similar upbringings. What I took away and lived the rest of this life is My Friends are My Family. You cannot pick your family nor the circumstances you are in when you are a little kid. It just is. With that said once your in your teen years and most definitely your adulthood you know how not to act.
Grief is shape-shifting. It rarely arrives the way we’re taught to expect it, and often shows up sideways… through behavior, silence, hardness, or moments we don’t recognize as sorrow until much later.
It leaves hairline fractures in us, places where we learned to survive instead of feel. Those cracks aren’t failures; they’re evidence of love and loss living in the same body.
Grief doesn’t always ask to be witnessed, but it always leaves a mark.
Thank you for this! I'm caring for two young children who experienced something intensely traumatic and trying to navigate the seemingly random acting out. I know it's all connected, but I don't always know what they really need in those moments.
So sorry for these kids. If I had to think about what i wanted then, it was warmth. But not sure it would've helped at that moment or if it was more a cumulative lack? No one asked how I felt and if I was able to get the strength to say anything it was not received well. Basically was told I was being a baby or somehow it was my own fault.
Ugg...I grew up in a household where everything was "grow up." We're working to give the kids a safe space to express themselves, but they're still in fight or flight, so I feel like I'm just waiting. I read my partner your story, and he saw the parallels between what you wrote and what we've witnessed with our little.
A little bit cruel. I had this kid I absolutely could not stand when I was a kid as well. I don’t why. I couldn’t stand him. I tried to think of ways for him to cut his hand on a sharp edge of a canned sausage tin. I was plotting as a 5 year old. I don’t know why.
Wow, that moment really spoke to you even now which shows that it was you as a child in a very difficult place. It's understandable when kids do lash out when they've lost someone they love.
Thank you for this — you captured something about grief that feels very true. I’m really grateful you read it this way.
I can understand why you did it.
The fact that it's still with you says much more.
Unable to comment. This makes me think, understand and recoile and cry. It’s that really really hot stuff that reminds me of some wrongdoing I did to the neighbors chickens. I didn’t want to do wrong to them though. I was just lonely, feeding them grass through that fence so they would want to come close and I could touch their shiny feathers. But they never wanted to be touched. So what I did was ambush them and grab some wings —-
And held tight — even after they screamed the heck out of those next two kilometers of village. Nobody heard them. Nobody cared. But I didn’t let go because nobody was talking to me and our dog was tired. Of course I lost the last affection I had gotten from that whole chicken tribe.
Yeah. Being vulnerable can mean we also did wrong to the beings smaller than us
For jealousy of their tribe happiness?
For wanting hugs nobody gave me by holding tight on wings not given to me?
By hearing the chicken scream for its life because it thought I was the big bad wolf?
I don’t know exactly
Yet some days later one of that chicken tribe got executed with a knife and I saw it running away without a head.
I was all shocked by the cruelty of the owner and had nightmares of me running around without any head on my shoulders for having hurt that one chicken by holding on to its wing through that fence.
Uuugh that would be a nice post. Chickens can be such lovable friends if they grow up with loving caretakers.
Have YOU ever done wrong to a smaller being because the pain inside you made you cruel for a moment and you were too small to realize what you were doing??
I was around age seven actually.
That's so similar. We were both lost and didn't know how to fix it. I think I was 6 because that's when my dad remarried. I basically ceased to exist to him after that. Thank you for sharing your story. I have always loved all animals. Probably because they were safe.
Thank you. You’re the first to read my comments that I tried to post. It’s such a relief because - her story reminds me, that I still carried guilt
That's deep. Messed up kids come from messed up adults. I think it's natural to be rough around the edges, when you don't know what love feels like.
So honest
So raw
It’s okay to be human
You are loved
🥰🤗💞
The way you talk about that moment doesn’t feel performative or moral, it feels like someone finally letting themselves say the thing they were never allowed to say out loud. The line about swallowing fire and folding yourself into someone tolerable really stayed with me. It explains so much, without excusing anything. And the last part about your mother, about living as the only way to answer that kind of love, felt very real and very you. I’m glad you wrote this, even if you didn’t plan to and even more glad that you shared this with me.
Thank you. I didn’t have words for that moment when it was happening — only the feeling — and writing it was a way of finally telling the truth without excusing it. I’m really grateful you felt that, especially the part about my mom.
Thank you for this
I think many of us spend our adulthood trying to figure out how to reshape ourselves outside of that initial damage. This reads like something you didn’t want to write but needed to. It carries weight, and it deserves the quiet it creates. Thank you.
Being a kid in the 70's I came from what I thought was a normal house. Alcoholic anger and beatings. My friends had similar upbringings. What I took away and lived the rest of this life is My Friends are My Family. You cannot pick your family nor the circumstances you are in when you are a little kid. It just is. With that said once your in your teen years and most definitely your adulthood you know how not to act.
Grief is shape-shifting. It rarely arrives the way we’re taught to expect it, and often shows up sideways… through behavior, silence, hardness, or moments we don’t recognize as sorrow until much later.
It leaves hairline fractures in us, places where we learned to survive instead of feel. Those cracks aren’t failures; they’re evidence of love and loss living in the same body.
Grief doesn’t always ask to be witnessed, but it always leaves a mark.
Thank you for sharing your story.
This is so beautiful ❤️
Thank you for this! I'm caring for two young children who experienced something intensely traumatic and trying to navigate the seemingly random acting out. I know it's all connected, but I don't always know what they really need in those moments.
So sorry for these kids. If I had to think about what i wanted then, it was warmth. But not sure it would've helped at that moment or if it was more a cumulative lack? No one asked how I felt and if I was able to get the strength to say anything it was not received well. Basically was told I was being a baby or somehow it was my own fault.
Ugg...I grew up in a household where everything was "grow up." We're working to give the kids a safe space to express themselves, but they're still in fight or flight, so I feel like I'm just waiting. I read my partner your story, and he saw the parallels between what you wrote and what we've witnessed with our little.
Vulnerable, raw, honest and well written. Thank you for sharing your story!
I am so glad you enjoyed it and thank you so much for commenting 💜❤️💙
A little bit cruel. I had this kid I absolutely could not stand when I was a kid as well. I don’t why. I couldn’t stand him. I tried to think of ways for him to cut his hand on a sharp edge of a canned sausage tin. I was plotting as a 5 year old. I don’t know why.
Wow, that moment really spoke to you even now which shows that it was you as a child in a very difficult place. It's understandable when kids do lash out when they've lost someone they love.
I totally didn't understand myself at the time. Why I wanted her to hurt. Why I was so angry. I feel bad for young me now. Thanks for commenting. 💜❤️💙