Self-Reliance

As we age from our youth we are meant to learn a sense of self-reliance. These fundamental skills are set in stone from early repetition lovingly passed on from an elder caring for us. Something as simple as brushing your teeth every night before bed is imperative to the development of healthy habits and gives a small amount of eventual independence. Children are usually set to go in to adulthood with a mixed bag of basics to pass along to the next generation. Usually.

One thing humanity tends to gloss over are those kids that come from such traumatic and neglectful households that these simple things, far too often taken for granted, are not instilled. Little research has been done in the way of putting together the statistics of how adults, now free of their abuse have been able to flourish without the reliance on others for direction. When you give a thriving adult with an unhealthy past an obstacle or habit to form, it doesn’t always stick. I cannot say that for certain of all individuals put through the same treatment, but I can speak for myself when I say it really isn’t an easy feat to tackle.

As a little girl I vividly can recall learning to wash my hands and brush my teeth from the media I consumed. Most of my hygienic habits came by watching others. Signs in doctor’s offices really helped that too. It truly wasn’t until the internet was easily accessible that I learned that shampoo was not an all-in-one body wash, shaving cream, and hair care. No one ever thought to tell me otherwise and if I’d had the chance I probably used it like toothpaste more than once. Deodorant, bras, and even menstrual care were left to the wind and I just hobbled over a field of embarrassing mines until I found what worked and sadly, what didn’t. Wads of toilet paper were not a replacement for pads, bras weren’t the devil incarnate, and once physical education really ramped up deodorant was not an occasional option.

You see, my mother was constantly on the borderline of depression and mania. The ship tipped from storms to sinking in a matter of moments and she just never had the time to teach me basic care of my body. So as I grew I just had to learn what worked and what was a potential teenage nightmare; body spray as a form of deodorant was not just something boys did. I’d spray down with something cheap from the dollar store and call it a bath. That was even when we had hot water to use because utilities were something else she pushed to the wayside. Cleanliness was not once enforced or even discussed. There wasn’t time for that when the entire world circled around the one person who was meant to give you this aide.

My hair would matte from days without brushing and conditioning; my body odor was less than appealing, and getting feminine products was like pulling teeth. For years I’d reuse the same pads in fear of asking for more and according to her tampons would “take my virginity” and were for “whores” so those were never an option. Menstrual cups really weren’t on the market and I had no idea the difference between a soft and bristle brush for my teeth. The literal basic skills for developing in to a functioning, decent smelling adult. None of that was passed along and to this day I still struggle with the fallout of that. No one ever wants to talk about it either. It’s some taboo that is hushed up but I truly don’t think we need to continue being quiet about the uglier side of neglect that follows so many from their youth. Adults who weren’t given that care now have more options than ever on the shelves but if they don’t know how to use it properly it doesn’t do much good. Luckily the vast wellspring of knowledge that is the internet has gifted the less fortunate adults with so much more than our parents ever did. We shouldn’t judge one on their habits, especially if we don’t know their upbringing.

It is never ending though, the demons from a childhood of turbulence. If it stopped at just hygienic care the cycle could be more easily broken with time and patience. That little thing of self-reliance is another serious factor that I brought up a bit earlier. It’s something as rarely discussed but is as large of a problem. That innate need for validation holds so many of us back from taking the risks in order to become independent.

Kids from broken homes all tend to end up together whether at the lunch table, or the bar, or even the same forums. We naturally gravitate to one another using our pain as an anchor of understanding of one another. The struggles may be different but still, in the light, they exist in their own form. It isn’t a pleasant form either, it is almost always a sickly beast that hangs from our shoulders and keeps us in the limbo of hesitation. From my years around my like-kind I’ve learned that half bucked up to their destiny and learned to fend for themselves. The other half did not.

At a very young age I began watching television as a way of passing the time and filling the gap in affection my parents left wide open. Through that media I learned a lot and the rest is all self-taught. This isn’t some self-gratifying pat on the back by any means but it’s what I had to do in order to survive. If I didn’t cook, I simply did not eat. If I didn’t learn the difference between gas and electric hot water I would have had many more cold showers. Self-preservation was always in my teeth and like a knife I took it seriously. I tore down the blockades in my path and learned to be a grown up all on my own. I started young, maybe nine years old, fending for myself. I made a very solid vow to myself to never lay in bed like my mother did and allow everyone else to ensure that my world would spin. But there are many young and old adults that never had this primal drive to get what needed to be done, done. They survived on the help of others and honestly, no one should ever be ashamed of how they held on through some of the hardest things life threw their way. Not everyone has the heart to go straight to the throat of life and there’s no shame in that.

We all survived in our own ways and so many grew in to the best they could given the circumstances of the time. We have to let those shackles go though, we’re adults now and no longer need to fight or hide. Whether you fought or fled, the opposite must be learned in order to create a better balance within ourselves. If we fight alone, we grow weary. If we always rely on others we will never be able to create a healthy future for ourselves and those around us. We have to take on the skills our parents never gave us and work hard for a future that is more comfortable. We, as a whole, have to take the time to look in to our hearts and speak to the neglected child and ask what they need. Look them in the eyes, you know them better than anyone else, what exactly do they need to thrive? Take their words and build a small soapbox that in time will grow in to a platform. Their voices must be heard, we can’t be the next adult to ignore their needs. We are their hope, we are now their parents and we must nurture that child. Teach them the basics of self-care, of self-reliance, of all of the things they were deprived of because of one or more cruel elder.

Every journey starts with a few single steps and once your legs are stable, go forward fighting or hiding. Find no shame in how you take care of that kid, find glory in the freedom you are able to give yourself. It may not be this year or even the next but a few minutes here and there is a start. You will stumble and make mistakes but don’t take that too deep, keep moving. We will all get where we need to be whether it’s on our own or with the help loved ones. It’s just finally overdue, our own care. Take it and make it yours.