I wrestled with denial for years. Sometimes it still rears its nasty head. As I’ve mentioned in a post before, denial is like an ostrich, when you stick your head in the sand, you show your ass. I showed my ass a lot, especially when it concerned abuse.
I experienced something this weekend that shook me up. I had a hair appointment. I’ve been going to the same person for seven years. While she was rinsing my hair, she rubbed her shoulder and mentioned she was sore. I chuckled, and asked her if she’d been training in the martial arts. She said no, she and her husband had gotten into a fight, and he threw her against the wall. It was then, that I noticed the purple colored bruises on her hands. He did more than throw her against the wall. My guess is that most of her 4 foot 9 teensy body carried many bruises.
I asked her about her girls, were they there? She said they stayed in their bedrooms when it happened. “Why are you staying?” I asked. She shook her head, “Why do any of us stay? I don’t know.”
We had to stop the conversation at that point due to customers coming into the shop.
After going through the initial shock of what I’d just learned, I got pissed. I don’t mean I was mad, I mean I was going to get out of my chair, show up at his home and beat his ever lovin’ ass. Pardon my language, but after living my life with that for years, I get fired up.
And then…I remembered. I remembered the years of not believing that I deserved better treatment. I came up with every excuse in the book for their behavior. (Yes, I said their. I don’t believe that you get involved in an abusive relationship unless you are already used to it in one form or another. I’m no expert though.)
I had asked myself, why I stayed, so many times. Why didn’t I leave? But when I left one, I found someone worse. I had to break that terrible cycle of thinking I was no good.
I’m going to tell you a secret. One of my long-term relationships, we will call him Wally, owned a home. This home was in need of a lot of repair. I was no snob though, and I believed he loved me. I lived with him for three years without running water in that home. Read that again if you need to. When he decided to fix it, it cost him a quarter.
I thought so little of myself…now, it breaks my heart. I finally decided I wanted better for my son, and left. Later, I married my ex-husband, the one we ran from for years. I was so brainwashed, that when he abused me, he’d remind me that he was better than the last one because we had running water in the house. And, do you know, it sounded logical to me! I told myself yes, he treated me better.
I have tears sliding down my cheeks as I write this. I have come so far, and I will continue to do so. I’m a fighter, but what I have to realize, is that I can’t fight someone else’s battle for them. Somewhere inside them, they have to want to make that first choice to leave. However, if you know anyone in an abusive relationship regardless if it’s emotional, verbal, physical or financial. Keep speaking the truth to them, and they will eventually hear you. That’s what happened to me. One person finally broke through all the lies in my head and soul, and I hung on to those words and left, for good.
It’s so funny, some days I want to just run around, beat on my chest and yell “I did it! I did it!” I’m being silly. I made the choice, but God opened the doors and brought the right people into my life. I had my Red Sea to cross, but I kept moving forward.
I will check on my hairdresser often. She doesn’t know my story. She would look at me in shock. Anyone that sees me, they have no idea I’ve been through that. But, maybe, just maybe, I might be the one person she can really listen to. I’m going to try.
I’ve meant to say this forever. I would love to have my picture up for my blog, Facebook etc. I love seeing everyone, what they look like, it helps me feel as though I really know you. I haven’t posted a picture because of my ex husband. I will when I feel the time is right though.
Thank you for allowing me to share a very intimate part of myself. I would one day love to speak to other women and teens, give them hope. Until then, I write it.
Until Next Time…