I was told to be proud of my childhood and that it made me strong and resilient. I don’t consider myself to be strong, and I am not resilient. Most of all, there is no reason to be proud of my childhood.
I agree that my childhood is in large parts responsible for the damage caused to my soul.
But that pain, the neglect, the emotional blackmail and abuse should not have happened at all. I was an innocent child; I deserved to be loved. I deserved affection and a hug from my parents. I deserved praise when I did something particularly well. Instead, my needs (the basic needs of a child) were a nuisance.
And yes, that shaped me into the woman I am today.
I am not proud of my childhood. But I am proud of the woman I became.