Today's thought from the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation is:
Judged
My child became an addict in his teens, lured to drugs and alcohol by a culture that glorifies substance use-the same culture that now, so ignorantly and harshly, passes judgment on him. And me.
I am judged for helping, fixing, and pushing (or not helping, fixing, or pushing enough) this sick child of mine who won't be helped or fixed or pushed. I am judged for over-reacting and under-reacting, enabling and letting go. Most hurtful of all, I am judged to be a mother whose love must be somehow flawed.
When my child became an addict, I became the mom of an addict-a role I wasn't prepared for and certainly didn't want. It's a role the whole world seems to have an opinion about, whether they know anything about addiction or not. Whatever I do (or don't do), I am judged to be wrong, but I no longer pay attention to that. I just keep doing what I'm doing, with love.
Judge tenderly, if you must. There is usually a side you have not heard, a story you know nothing about, and a battle waged that you are not having to fight.
Traci Lea LaRussa
Traci Lea LaRussa
You are reading from the book:
Tending Dandelions © 2017 by Sandra Swenson
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