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How Not To Create A Blended Family — According to My Old Diary Entries
And for the love of happiness, please don’t get remarried behind the children’s backs
It could have been a breathtaking tale of romance. Instead, it’s one overshadowed by childhood trauma.
My father and his wife dated in their late teens. Then they went their separate ways. They married other people and had four children each. These marriages didn’t last, and the universe brought the teenage lovebirds back together.
Like I say, it could have been a tale of romance. A story of being unable to cheat destiny and how a first love can triumph over every other love. But that was just one strand of the story. The visible strand. The darker side of the story is the traumatic childhoods.
While the two adults may well have been lost in their rekindled cloud of giddy teenage love, the children — those who were young enough to be directly impacted — were left with wounds that carried on into adulthood.
I recently found diaries I kept as a youngster. Reading through these has left me bereft for my inner child. For years I gaslit myself, convinced it couldn’t have been that bad, and yet I couldn’t shake the feelings. Turns out the body really does keep the score.
