The childhood trauma was the death of a sibling. One of twins. I was 3 - old enough to know two babies hadn’t come home, but my parents kept their grief private and decided (and I don’t blame them) that he should never be spoken about. My mum focussed everything onto the surviving twin (understandably) leaving me out in the cold emotionally. It’s still that way today, although we do at least have a relationship of sorts.
Ask anyone that was around when I was growing up and the first word they will use to describe me is “independent”. Even at 3. Being capable meant I didn’t need anyone. It was reinforced through my teens. I started work at 15, moved out at 17 (still at school), bought a house at 19 and gutted it myself. Everything on my terms. Wall around me to to protect me. Looking back my friendships have been “of their time”. I’m not really good friends with anyone I went to school with, for instance. Had my heart broken a couple of times, armour got tougher. Fell into marriage with a man I thought would never hurt me. But I realise I never actually committed to the relationship. I kept everything - including myself - separate.
I didn’t know if I wanted children for a very long time. I was paralysed with fear about history repeating (still am, one of the reasons DD is an only child.) DH was becoming more desperate for them, so I had counselling, mainly around my fear of being like my mother. Still didn’t make a definitive decision and let fate decide. DD arrived 10 months later. The calm home birth I planned was scrapped when a midwife told me my baby would die if I didn’t get induced. Highly medicalised assisted birth which left me with PTSD. That’s what I had the recent counselling for, along with some couples counselling.
I’m deeply unhappy in my marriage. My husband is lazy and thoughtless. My detachment has (in his mind) caused his depression, but he doesn’t see any reason to do anything about it. The way it manifests impacts negatively on me - I can’t trust him to do anything (he’ll do half a job and want a medal) or take responsibility for anything. It’s toxic to me - life is genuinely easier when he’s not around, and I’m finding ways to make that happen. It’s re-affirming that life long belief that the only person looking out for me is me.
I can feel myself withdrawing further, including with DD, which is the bit that’s breaking my heart.
I’ve told my husband I don’t see a future with him.
I just don’t know if all the hardwiring - from age 3 to 17 at least - can ever be overwritten.