DEDICATION

For Cristina

—epitome of feminine agency, tenacity and grit—

And a pro at lounge-room births

xx

For Crystal,

who has had to bear the consequences

of other people’s crap, more than most.

The bravest person I know.

And in appreciation of The Babes Project,

who support women in situations like Gabrielle’s.

PRELUDE

How do you build a new life after you’ve grown up in a crappy home? This is the question I ask myself constantly. What do you use when your hands are empty? When those tasked with your nurture instead tried taking what you didn’t even have? I don’t know even know what the tools are, let alone how to use them. Nothing comes out of nowhere; someone has to give these things to you, don’t they? If not the skills themselves, they have to make a supportive space where you can at least learn to develop them.

I have divested myself of my feelings, my thoughts. Thoughts and feelings are dangerous, too shameful to own. The problem is, the longer you relinquish them, the harder it is to take them back ... and then those orphaned feelings and disembodied thoughts become their own force, possessing you beyond your will. But what other choice did I have? This isn’t freedom.

I denied ever-present anxieties. I had no-one to hold them for me. I had to divest myself in order to manage. Otherwise, everything would have fallen apart. So I thought. Things were already apart. But to admit those vulnerabilities, those cracks, would have been soft, weak, affected. I couldn’t afford that. I couldn’t let anything in. In a more functional home, I might have admitted when things were too much. Grown-ups would have held me, told me it was okay ... In that moment, I would have trusted their ability to manage. I would not have had to hold it all together myself. Over time, I would have gained confidence in myself to manage.

It never came. My mother could not lead me to belief in myself by believing in me ... maybe because I was not willing to trust her. But maybe that unwillingness was well-founded. And now what? Who is there to comfort me? Who is there for me to trust? Who can lead me to trust in myself? And how do I reclaim those orphaned feelings that have taken possession of me? How do I reign them in, harness their potential, become master of myself and merge into one? Must I become my own security? Can I do it myself? Do I need someone else? Others?

I do, I have and I have learned how.

Things have changed. I am an adult. And I have choices now. But still I ask, who will lead me to that confidence in the world that comes when another has confidence in me?

Perhaps there is one thing you can only find yourself, and perhaps it also comes through others.