I have had a small mental breakthrough after thinking about the fear I had in speaking honestly to my husband the other day about how I felt. What really struck me was the amount of real fear I felt, with physical responses like racing heart, shaking hands and sweaty palms. My husband is not aggressive, violent or explosive. He is quiet, moody and withdrawn, so what was I afraid of? After a lot of reflecting, I realised that telling the truth in my family of origin was something that could put a person on the outer. I was raised in a very kind, stable, deeply religious home where there were no raised voices, no violence, incest, alcoholism or drug abuse. My parents were a lot older than my friends' parents and both were raised in alcoholic homes. The sexual repression in the household was extreme and we only found things out from each other as we knew not to ask our parents anything about sex. I was a sexually obsessed child, and was tormented by sexual images and fears for most of my childhood. I had 4 sisters and one brother . Only one of my sisters challenged the family image and she was scapegoated to a degree that still affects her life today. I was one of the key people keeping the family image polished up and shining and was suitably rewarded, and still am to this day. Family heroes don't have a lot of incentive to tell the truth I guess, which would account for my extreme reluctance to be honest in the family I am now in. This may seem really obvious to many of you, but it feels like a new discovery to me! I hope I can keep on confronting my old, false fear of honesty, because nothing bad will happen to me if I do!!
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