Shattered Chapter 2: Meditation on Grieving the Loss of Childhood.

March 5, 2020

Every regret for shattered hopes of success must be transformed into the joy of new achievements…” Paramahansa Yogananda

Grieving the loss of childhood is a part of the process, however, what you lost is nothing compared to what you may now gain.

2am and you are wide awake.

Listen. Do you hear the owl outside your window?

“Who. Who. Whooo are you?”

Who is the one next to you now?

Sleeping peacefully



The night sky is still dark and

The vast expanse of the heavens shine brilliantly above you.

A warm bed cradles your body.

Your head rests comfortably on a pillow below you.

Rest a while longer.

You are safe.

I am here with you.

And the thoughts begin to wash over me…

You and I

We know what it’s like

to lose ourself to another.

Denial, anger, grief…all of it.

That horrible feeling knowing a piece of you is missing.


We try and fill in the gaps but it never really satisfies, does it. We hadn’t yet learned how separate ourselves. How to take back ourselves. So we looked to others to fill in the spaces and make us whole. We looked to others for self-love.

And where there was none, we looked even harder.

You loved me hard and fast. Nearly broke me in the end.

And from it, we both learned hard and fast truths.

And then we had our fill.

“Enough! I’ve had enough!”

“I can’t take anymore abuse from you!”

Then stop. Just stop.



Here we go again.

In my heart there is a pit. The lowest level of Hell.

I’ll take you there and cast you down—

I’ve never met one with so much darkness until I met you.

My perfect match. A formidable opponent.

You took me to the deepest depths of Hell (the pit in my heart) and back again.

I went willingly there to find a missing piece of myself…

We fear pain so we push love away into a dark room—alone. Lock love away.

Now you can’t hurt me. Now you can’t love me.

I too just wanted to get on with my life. Leave the past behind.

How naive. What you fear most, you become.

What you won’t accept, eats away at your core.

It’s hungry. Feed it. Nourish it. Listen to what it says:

You are grieving. Your life is insufferable. It wasn’t enough your childhood was stolen. You grew into a woman you don’t even like. Can’t stand to look at her. You know what she is like inside. Rotten. What man could love you? If he knew the ‘real you’ he would run like hell to get away from you.

And he should.

“I was wrong about you. Blinded.

Now I know the truth—I can never love a woman like you.”

A woman ‘like you’







“I need you! Help me. Just this one more time.”

How did I become her? Where did my own dreams go? How did I become so diminished and she so real? How did I get here?

Do you remember your dreams, little girl? You wanted to perform–make people happy.

How could that be so wrong? How could that dream be so wrong?

Someone else had a dream broken.

“Who do you think you are? You think you’re so special? You are NOTHING!

You will come crawling back to me…”

I learned instead to fly…

This was all just a ‘life lesson’? That’s it? Is it time now for recess?

I’d like to go outside, get some fresh air, and climb a tree, thank you.

I never was very good playing with other children. They might find out the truth and you know how cruel kids can be anyway. They like spreading rumors. Kids can be mean-spirited. Little girls can be monsters. Ask me how I know.

I was embarrassed by my family. What was wrong with us? Why were we so different?

Other kids saw it. They told me so.

Moving away was scary and exciting. Finally! A chance to start over and begin again!

And finally my own room…until she came back and started the whole process spiraling down…again.

Did anyone care about me? So fixated on helping her to succeed. So important that she be happy and successful. Did I matter to anyone? Was my happiness my success as important as hers? It wasn’t apparent to me. It didn’t show.

What would I have to do to get your attention?

I could be more







Maybe then I could hold your attention

Just like she did…

I remember the boy in school I liked liked me too. So shy were we! He waited until the end of the school year and wrote it on every page of my yearbook. “I will always love you.” We moved again at the end of that year.

Then there was the older boy who showed me too much attention who said disparagingly to me, “Do you want me to treat you like a fourteen year old or a sixteen year old?”

Note to younger self: GET OUT OF THERE. YOU ARE NOT SAFE. HE WILL COERCE YOU TO DO THINGS YOU ARE TOO YOUNG TO DO. You will regret this, trust me. If only my younger self would have listened then…

Are you listening now?

The owl outside your window asks

“Who. Who. Whooo are you?”

The one who chose you as his wife for better or for worse

Sleeps peacefully now.

Breathing rhythmically now.

Are you listening?

God is all

And you are a part.


God is all?

And I am a part?


If I am a part, then he is also a part?


And if he is a part, then she is also a part?


Oh that is a difficult pill to swallow.


In time you will understand. You will learn.

For now, close your eyes and breathe peacefully, rhythmically…

Can you sense the dark expanse of the heavens shining brilliantly above you?

Feel the warmth and comfort of the pillow below you?

Your body dissolving into soothing surrender…

Sleep comes naturally now

Dreams come sweetly now

The sky is yet dark

You are safe

I am with you

Rest in Me

I am All and

You are a part…

–NZain 🙏🏻

Shattered Chapter 1: Acceptance

March 3, 2020

A new day yet dawns. Rancho Mirage, Ca

Something happened a long time ago.

You’re not sure exactly what happened; however,

You remember it well. Like it happened just this morning.

And now, while you stand there at the sink washing dinner dishes,

Tears streaming down your face, “Oh God! Why didn’t I see it?”

You didn’t see it and neither did they. Dark secrets hidden in plain view. No one saw it.

Somethings are too hard to see. Instead, you feel them. Deep down inside. And they hurt.

God do they hurt like hell after all these years!

“This is crazy. You are a grown woman. Stop crying.”

So, you wash your face with dirty dishwater and carry on because

No. One. Knows. No one sees.

“It’s better this way” you quietly explain to yourself; smiling,

Drying your eyes with an old dish towel.

But you can’t explain why you are now screaming at your husband (or your children).

You can’t explain anything anymore because you’re not exactly sure

What exactly happened.

It was so long ago. You were just a little girl…

Yes. A long time ago something happened. It was a terrible thing and it

Shattered your world.

And here we are wondering why life seems so mean-spirited and meaningless.

“Why did this happen to me?”

It’s ok. Go ahead. Ask the questions.

Dear God,

Nothing makes any sense to me. My life is falling apart. My marriage is falling apart.

I don’t like what I have become.

Angry. Bitter. Resentful. And worst of all—I behave just like her.

How do I stop? How do I stop hurting…


And others.

It’s 2am and you are wide awake apparently talking to yourself again.

Are you listening this time?

Look at the man lying next to you who made a vow to you for better or for worse.

Listen to the sound of his breathing. Peaceful. Rhythmic. Soothing.

How much more worse can he take?

And you? How much more worse are you willing to suffer?

Close your eyes. Rest awhile.

It’s still dark, and a new day yet dawns.


Growing Up Shattered. Introduction

February 29, 2020

Growing up shattered

Sharp edges worn smooth with time.

A peaceful garden.


Hi and thank you for following Growing Up…my thoughts on surviving childhood abuse.

My name is Nina, the N in NZain.

If there is one thing I’ve learned about healing old childhood traumas–“it’s a journey not a race.” (who said that?) Healing not only takes time, but action, faith, and a good dose of humor too!

Support is also necessary. We are not alone! Kind-hearted people are everywhere–right here, and connecting with other like-minded folk on the journey is truly one of life’s greatest joys. I am pleased to meet you.

Growing up sideways is tough enough. Growing up shattered is another story; one that I hope will inspire you on your own journey. Healing is possible. Trust in the process.


NZain 🦋

PS. All photos here on this blog are by me.