Searching to feel loved

As far back as I can remember, I have been searching for external validation that I’m loved. 

I have this memory of when I was like 10-12 years old.  I remember being home in the evenings with my brothers until dark, waiting on mom and dad to arrive from the work day.  My brothers would tease me and tell me I was adopted, and I wasn’t loved.  They would convince me this is why I was the only one in the family who had red hair.  I believed them.  Not knowing how to deal with what I was feeling, I would run away.  

Our family dog was kept on a runner out in the woods just past our backyard.  Her doghouse was at the very end of the runner, farthest from the house.  This is where I would go and sit by myself waiting on someone to come looking for me.  Searching for validation that I was loved.  “If they love me they will come find me” I would think.  

I would sit out there for hours, waiting.  I don’t remember if anyone ever found me, but I do remember hearing them come outside and call my name before retreating back into the house.   While I sat outside, I would validate to myself how unloved I was.  How, ‘if they really loved me they would…’.   I would compare myself to ‘lovable’ people in my head.  

I could see the house from where I was, and I would watch and listen to life carry on inside my childhood home…I don’t recall that there was panic or noticeable concern that I was gone.  My family carried on with their evening…prepping dinner, chores, conversing.  

My distorted thought: panic + noticeable concern = love 

As it got dark, the coyotes would start howling and I would feel scared.  This led me to abandon my search to feel loved and make my way back to the house.  I didn’t want to die…lol

I would feel ashamed, embarrassed and scared to face the consequences of running away.  Sometimes, upon my return my parents didn’t even mention I was gone.  Like it was just a normal part of the day.  So, no processing of what I was going through happened.  Heaven knows I didn’t have the skills, awareness or courage to be vulnerable about what I was feeling.  

I don’t ever remember getting in trouble for this…life would just continue on.  My family felt secure that I would return.  I processed this as lack of care.  Interesting….🧐 

What was it I was searching for?  Attention?  Maybe.. 

I talked with my mom about this memory and gratefully she was willing to share her memories without any shame or guilt.  Just open conversation. She has strength I admire in this gift. 

Mom recalled that I would often go find somewhere to be alone when I was pouting, so great concern wasn’t usually felt.  I always came back.  

Until, the one night I left a note that I knew I was adopted and unloved, and I was leaving.   That night, mom said I didn’t return like normal.  She recalled that when her and dad arrived home that night, my brothers started giggling when asked where I was.  They shared that they had been teasing me, and I left.  My parents found the note I left and my family became genuinely concerned.  I had been gone much longer than usual.  They ALL went searching. 

I still struggle with the desire to have others validate my worth and lovable qualities.  Desperately seeking at times to feel the warmth of security that I am loved and wanted.  

While it feels good to feel external validation, I am working to find it within myself first.  To detach from my anxious attachment and lean into security.  To retrain my brain to trust that the people I choose in my life aren’t going to abandon me.  

Most importantly, I am working to trust that I won’t abandon myself.  

This memory has been eye opening.  I feel like healing is an arms reach away…I can almost touch it.  💕

Keep going girl…you’re worth it!