Damaged Goods.....

Last night, I sat with a 37 year old man, a client of mine, and explained to him that he was developmentally disabled and that he had probably been that way since birth, because his mother was actively using drugs when she was pregnant with him.  His eyes filled with tears, as I careful shared this information...head in hands, he whispered, "That's why I'm damaged."  It was clear he had heard that before.

Not that long ago, I was working with a group of incarcerated men, in a state prison, who were dealing with, among other things, surviving childhood sexual abuse and severe trauma.  During one of the sessions, a young man burst into tears and cried out, "What am I supposed to do?  Who will ever love me?  I'm damaged goods."  Who called him that first?

Another time, I was in a restaurant with the man who would one day be my ex husband and my aunt leaned across the table, while grasping my hand and said  to him, "Take care of Mickie.  She's very special.  She's been damaged.  It's a miracle she survived."  The humiliation was immense and my body burned, as my self worth fled the room...as my aunt verbally gave him the license to think little of me and expect even less.  I'm in my forties, moderately successful, intelligent, a college graduate and, if you could get one of my family to speak to you about me, they would tell you straight up "she's damaged goods."

I wonder who came up this terminology.  Was it a man or woman standing by a broken keg of ale or crate of pigeons on a dock, in the 1400's, trying to sell it, and the potential buyer said, "Thou canst sell that to me.  I will not purchase, whilst it is damaged goods."  And, right at that moment, a man hobbled by on a wooden leg...the leg fell off...he fell over and the potential buyer cried, "Thy damaged goods are the same as that man."  So, from that moment on, throughout the ages, if something falls apart for a person, visible or invisible, if they lose something of emotional value or if something is taken from them, they...forever...become property....with no soul....that no one should want...

For years, I have grieved over being "damaged goods", and, now after several obliterated relationships, I'm wondering why I am "damaged goods" and they are not.  I'm wondering why, if our bodies have the amazing power regeneration...and life is the ultimate do-over, that the human race decided to use permanent magic marker to X out the value of a person's soul, for something that was probably beyond their control.

What is the definition of "damaged goods?"  I've hear it applied to people....a lot....How is the honor of labeling someone with that title doled out?  And, how much of that title has to do with the person labeled, or does it just make the labeler feel immensely superior and better about themselves?

My aunt is cruel to people...she makes people cry...literally.  Individuals run from her presence; yet, she labels me damaged.  Yes, I have experienced horrible things....things that make others not know what to say; but, I don't do those things to others.  My issues don't look any different than friends who come from "perfect" families.  When I feel lonely and down...I eat a pint of ice cream just like any other woman and comfort food like a man.  In fact, I have a tough time convincing the average person that I'm anything but just like everybody else....

My baggage is the same size and shaped as everyone I pass...every day....and that baggage, at some point, ends up on a conveyor belt...just like everybody else...sometimes it gets sent to another city...or someone picks through it...just like everyone else.  Yes, there a few pieces that are currently duct taped...but then there's such a variety of tape available...and it's just temporary...all will eventually be fixed...just like everyone else...

I prefer to see myself as dented right now...after all, it really is my choice, not anyone else's, to see myself that way or to go through life as damaged goods....