Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [101]
Rhonda was explaining that her mother knew she was cashing her checks, when one of the investigators asked, “Where is your mother?”
“She’s at home.”
“Home where?” Rhonda gave him Nett’s address.
“It is our understanding that that is Lynnette Harris’s address. We want to know your mother’s address.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Mrs. Harris’s sister has informed us that Mrs. Harris is not your mother. She is your stepmother.”
Rhonda turned Nett’s favorite color of “puke green.” They offered her some water. When she refused, she was told to return in two weeks with a copy of the lease and proof that Nett had lived with her. Rhonda went directly to Nett’s house.
“Did you know that Sharon is trying to have me arrested?” Nett was silent. “Do you know that if I get arrested, I cannot practice law in the State of New York?”
“Sharon wants her money back. She needs her money.” Nett was referring to the money her sister had willingly contributed to the private-duty nurses hired to care for Nett.
“She’s trying to ruin my life! If I am arrested on a federal forgery charge, I cannot practice law!”
“She needs her money, and blood is thicker than water.”
Rhonda was speechless. The only thing she could do was stare at the woman sitting in the wheelchair before her. This was not the Nett she had known and loved. This was a woman who would not, could not see her. This was not the Nett who had kissed her, cared for her, stood by her, and had promised Rhonda she would someday be somebody. To keep herself from feeling too bad, Rhonda told herself that she did not know who this person was.
“I’ve got to go,” Rhonda said, trying to decide if she should kiss this woman good-bye.
“Okay,” Nett said. “Would you ask Damon to bring me some pizza?” Rhonda left without responding.
I slid further down into the tub and remembered how hard Rhonda had prayed that night. Once again, her heart had been pierced. She hadn’t heard anything about her mother in so long, she actually believed that Nett was her mother. The mind is wonderful. It lets us believe whatever we need to believe in order to survive. It can block out pain and information that might send us into overload, or shut us down. Rhonda’s mind had blocked out a great deal of information. Now, as she began to pray for clarity and guidance, the information surfaced. But she still had not learned to accurately discern it. Rhonda was still looking on the outside. The truth she needed was on the inside.
Father forgive them, for they know not what they do! She was being punished. Not by other people, but by herself. Rhonda was not punishing herself for anything she had done but for what she believed. She still believed that she deserved to be punished. She still believed that she was not worthy of love. What Sharon had done reinforced what Rhonda believed about herself. I could clearly see another pattern that had emerged in Rhonda’s life. It was a covert pattern of which Rhonda was unaware. In order for something good to happen, something bad had to happen first. During the times when Rhonda should have been her happiest, there was always something bad lurking in the shadows. She would not allow herself to enjoy the fruits of her labor.
I sat straight up in the bathtub, splashing water over the rim and onto the floor. That’s it! Oh my God! That’s it! I am too successful! My books are doing too well; I am doing too well. Rhonda feels she doesn’t deserve to do well. She has to be punished. Rather than being able to fully enjoy what I am doing, I place myself in situations in which I feel bad. In which I cannot be happy. Oh my God! This thing with Karen is a covert pattern that sabotages my own happiness. As long as I am unhappy about Karen, what she does, what she does not do, and how I think she treats me, I am not happy, and Rhonda is being punished.
Then I realized that somehow Rhonda must have