Angel Green
February 9, 2026
Content Note: This piece includes reflections on trauma, abuse, and difficult family experiences.
“I’m going to need you to get her driver’s license,” my mother told me on our way to drop off.
She was referring to my dads new girl friend… well he wasn't really my dad. You see, my sister and I have different fathers,I don't have too many memories about him but I do remember going over to his house almost every weekend. He didn't have to take me, I wasn't his, but somehow my mother always convinced him to take me along. As an adult I now realize that he took me along because he didn't know how to say no to her. He didn’t know how to set boundaries.
And neither did I.
Golden coral was his go to place to take my sister and I out to dinner, I didn't mind because there were so many different options of food. The chocolate fountain was my favorite! I loved dipping strawberries and marshmallows into the warm chocolate. It made me feel fancy and to this day whenever I get to go to a golden coral I make sure to stop by the chocolate fountain. I have learned that Golden coral is not “fancy” lol.
Anyways, that weekend he took us and his new girlfriend to dinner there. I didn't know her very much but ahe was always kind to us. I wasn’t thinking about her kindness,I was thinking about my mother because I knew that if I didn’t accomplish the mission she had given me, I would pay for it later.
My mother tried the best she could to raise us and through therapy each day I replaced hate with pity, she didn't have the family, tools, or mental health to deal with me and I forgive her for that. Fear was her most effective teaching tool : belts,shoes,cords,sticks, Sometimes she would even let me choose which one would be used (my go to was the spatula because it hurt the least). She taught me that disobedience had consequences, and survival meant compliance.
So when the opportunity came, I volunteered to stay behind at the table while everyone else got their food. I watched everyone get up and walk towards the buffet, my heart pounded so loudly I was sure someone would hear it. My hands shook as I reached into her purse, I quickly found her wallet, opened it, and saw more cash than I had ever held before in my 8 years of living. Not gonna lie…I wanted to take some,but that wasn’t my mission. I kept looking and then I found her driver’s license and quickly slipped it into my pocket.
When everyone came back, I stood up and walked to the buffet, I started feeling lightheaded as I was walking away, every step I took made my brain feel fuzzy for some reason. I was sure they knew, I was sure I had been caught.
But nothing happened.
No one noticed.
I had succeeded.
I grew up thinking that saying no was not safe. My nervous system learned that my discomfort, fear,and my morals didn’t matter. What mattered was avoiding punishment, maintaining attachment. What mattered was survival.
This last year, I started minimizing my life. Letting go of things we had collected over the years. Releasing objects that belonged to versions of myself I was outgrowing.One of those things was my Pokémon collection.
A buyer reached out and showed interest. I sent photos and videos of everything I was willing to sell. There was one item I hesitated on, it was a handmade Pikachu plush I had ordered off etsy a couple years ago,I decided not to include it. I made that clear and we agreed on the bundle.
But when he arrived, he looked at the items and asked,
“Where is the Pikachu?”
“That one wasn’t part of the bundle,” I told him.
But then he told me how his kids loved Pokémon and how they collected them together and how happy they would be.
And without realizing it, I started abandoning myself again.
I’m an adult, I told myself. I don’t need toys.
Before I could stop myself, I was back inside and walking upstairs to get it.
Part of me hoped he would leave before I came back. That the decision would be made for me and that I wouldn’t have to choose.
But when I opened the door, he was still there waiting…So I handed it over.
He smiled and thanked me and talked about how happy his kids would be.
I waved goodbye, went back inside and I closed the door. I then proceeded to the couch where I sat and began to cry, not because I missed the plush but because I had abandoned myself again.
No one forced me, no one threatened me, but my nervous system still believed that someone else’s happiness mattered more than my boundary.
This is how survival patterns live on.. quietly and automatically.
“My sister asked if we could help get her a car” I told my husband.
“No,”he said while we sat in marriage therapy. “We can’t put a car under our name for her.”
I remember feeling annoyed with him, defensive and almost betrayed. Many of the struggles in my marriage have come from my lack of boundaries, especially when it comes to my family. I am so grateful for his paitence, love, and support. It’s been the most anyone has ever shown or given me.
A while back I had a falling out with my family and for five years, I had no contact with them, five years of distance, five years of quiet. Then one day, I got a Facebook friend request from my sister.
I remember running inside to tell my husband.I learned through her facebook post that she was going to move, I knew where she lived and thought I needed to rush down there before she was gone.
“Get in the car, we need to go now” I told him.
“She isn’t good for you.” my husband said gently as I grabbed my keys.
“Come with me” I told him as I was getting in, but he just stood there and said “please don't go”
I looked at him through tears and said “You don’t know her,” I closed the car door and I left because losing her again felt more unbearable than losing myself.
This is what abandonment trauma can look like. Not just emotional intensity, but the inability to protect yourself from the people who have hurt you, the inability to trust your own boundaries, the overwhelming fear of disconnection.
For most of my life, I believed connection was more important than safety.That belief has cost me pieces of myself. I have learned that going back to the people who I have lost connection with is for the best because I don't know how to say no to them.
I am learning though
When someone asks me for something, I don’t immediately say yes (most of the time) Instead I'm learning to say:
“Let me think about it.”
This gives my nervous system time to settle and to separate fear from truth, this way I have time to choose instead of react. Now… I'm not perfect and just this last week I caught myself saying yes and being mad at myself for not being able to say no.
“baby steps” I keep telling myself
I feel bad for my husband because I’m very hard to deal with, I think he has just accepted that I won’t change overnight.
BUT…. I am improving because I am no longer that child sitting at the Golden Corral table, stealing something to avoid punishment,I am no longer powerless and I am learning that boundaries are not rejection.
They are protection
They are self respect
They are healing
What defines me now is the work I’m doing, the slow yucky uncomfortable, honest process of unlearning survival.
Some days, I still feel the ache to rescue people and to give more than I have, to abandon myself in exchange for connection.
I'm learning to recognize that feeling, I'm learning to choose differently, each day I'm working on myself.
I am an Angel in progress.