There's been a phrase, or a kind of concept, that I've heard over the past few years.  The idea of parenting your inner child.  Letting that part of you that didn't get things it needed, or maybe was mistreated, or neglected, or whatever the case may be, feel seen and heard and soothe it, give it what it needs, help it to heal.  On one hand, it sounds like new-age, hippie-dippy shit that is stupid.  But on the other hand...I am beginning to understand it.

I was driving this morning, going no place of consequence for a short errand.  Because my brain is often my enemy, of course it was thinking about things too deep for what wasn't, but basically was, first thing in the morning.  I started thinking about the fact that I really do, deeply and strongly, hate myself.  I have been aware of this for years.  I became consciously aware of it back in 2019 shortly after I got married, and in all honesty, it was probably being with my now former husband that made me realise that I legitimately hated myself.  Yes, he was the catalyst for the realisation (considering how critical he was of me, how me just being myself wasn't enough, etc.), but I'm pretty sure the hatred was there before he came along.  It was just his behaviour and treatment of me that was enough to make me realise it.

But I digress.  If this deep self hatred existed before him, where did it come from?  I've struggled with depression for over half my life at this point.  Depression has been called self-hatred, and/or anger against the self.  You internalize the anger, because it wasn't safe to feel that growing up, so you criticise and blame yourself unrealistically, which turns into depression/self-hatred.

And that's when it clicked for me.  Of course I hate myself.  I grew up not feeling wanted or loved by my family (there is a lot of nuance to this; I know my parents did their best, but it doesn't take away the fact emotional needs that I had - and probably all of my siblings had - were not met).  Not feeling loved or wanted or like I mattered at all taught me to think about myself that same way. 
And as we know from a psychological standpoint, we gravitate towards that which is familiar.  Which honestly confuses my brain, because at the beginning, he was attentive and sweet.  Yes, he was very controlling and insecure and critical as well, but there was some positive attention there (the bad attention far outweighed the good, but I wasn't as knowledgeable back then as I am now to know to pay attention to that and take it for what it was - toxic).  In a lot of ways, he was like my dad.  There were some things he paid attention to, attention he gave me, but he was very, very critical.  It was familiar, because it's what I had been accustomed to my whole life.

(Side note: paying attention to, knowing, and understanding your family of origin when it comes to family dynamics and relationships is incredibly important.  I cannot emphasize this enough.  Know where you come from, understand how that impacts your relationships, and use that to do better, be better, and change those patterns so they don't continue should you ever be in a romantic relationship and/or married.)

My self hatred started when I was a child.  When I had big feelings, and got punished for them, rather than being taught how to manage them.  So eventually I learned to shut off all feelings.  It stopped me from getting in trouble, which stopped the negative attention I always got...
It makes sense.  Getting in trouble for feeling things, being ignored except when I was getting in trouble, not feeling like I was wanted or valued or loved as a child...realising this when I was driving my short drive made me sad.  I try not to cry these days, but I found myself tearing up over this.  Being sad for the little girl Aimee, who so desperately needed to feel like her family wanted her, like she mattered to them, but not getting it.  She was hurt for so long; she is still hurt.  She never got what she needed, which was affection and positive attention, and knowing that how she felt mattered to the people who claimed they loved her.

It all feels impossible.  And, quite frankly, unfair.  That the damage done to me (albeit unintentionally) was done by others, but now I'm the one suffering and the one responsible for fixing it.  How do I parent the child part of me?  How do I tell her that she is loved and valued and wanted, when even I don't feel that way about myself?

Self hatred started in my childhood, but it continued into adulthood and into marriage, because the man who claimed to loved me criticised me often enough to where on a subconscious level I learned that I was not enough for him and he didn't love me for me, even though I never once hid from him who I was, and that sadness was part of my existence.  Then, because he abandoned me rather than doing the right thing, keeping his vows and growing and changing and doing his part in the marriage, it reaffirmed every single thing I grew up experiencing and knowing: I am not enough.  I am not wanted.  No matter if people tell me they love me, they don't, despite them saying otherwise.  And people will never, ever, ever be there for me.  

I haven't come to some miraculous discovery and am now healed and love myself.  Especially considering all of this was just realised this morning.  But my heart hurts for the little girl that I was, who was simply starving for love, for affection, for wanting to know that her family wanted her...and never got those things.

Maybe someday she will heal from that.  Maybe even someday, I won't hate myself anymore.  That day isn't today, but at least the awareness is a start.