I am Not My Mother….

Someone from my church took the time out of her busy schedule to sit and talk with me. She sat and listened to me without judgment, etc. I got more out of our talk, than I ever have being in therapy. That talk, caused me to really dig deep within myself, my family and my faith.

My mother was someone that would give you the shirt off her back. She was the most loving, caring person I have ever known. Of course I’m a bit biased because she was my mother but it’s also who she genuinely was.

But she was also someone that didnt have boundaries in place. I know she wanted to become a nurse but “couldnt”. Whatever my father said, is how it was. The only time I ever saw her stand up to him was when she would drink; which only caused my father to beat her more. All in all, my mother didnt have a life of her own outside of my father.

Through my talk with my “sister” from church, I’ve come to understand how I’ve inherited so many of the negative traits from my mother, which I’m sure was passed down.

Continue reading “I am Not My Mother….”

Break The Cycle

The things the little girl (me) on the left went through are things no child (nor anyone) should ever have to endure.

I don’t know how I ended up not being killed due to some of the situations I was in. Having to do the things that I did, as a run-a-way, in order to survive on the streets.

Watching my mother be abused. Being abused (sexually) myself and not fully understanding it but knowing that it wasn’t right. But who do you tell when the abusers are people that are supposed to be the ones protecting you?!?

I make no apologies for what I share. Staying quiet continues to allow your abusers to have a hold on you. Staying quiet is why so many suffer in silence. Staying quiet is why generation after generation, endures some form of abuse. Staying quiet keeps you from healing.

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Domestic Violence; Her Story

CLICK LINK TO ENLARGE THE POWER AND CONTROL WHEEL: Power and Control

I have permission to share this story as told to me by a friend of mine.

I was 16 years old when I met him. He was a couple of years older than me and had spent his life in foster care. He was too old to continue to live in foster care and was out on his own. I so wanted to be a friend to him because he seemed so broken. Our relationship was a lot of fun and soon we began dating.

Many months into our relationship, things went sour and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to continue with the relationship. We had so many differences and we just didn’t see eye-to-eye. Going through many breakups, I didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary. I hadn’t broken up with him when it started happening. He could sense that I was trying to back off and end the relationship and he didn’t want that.

I cant tell you how many times it was, but it was a lot, that he kept me against my will until we have “worked things out.” Of course that would always end in a lie so that I could leave the room, or the car, or wherever we were at the time. I was locked inside my sister’s apartment, his friends room, and my own vehicle. He wouldn’t let me leave until I convinced him I was going to breakup with him. And of course, it escalated from that.

On more than one occasion, he grabbed the wheel of my car and pulled us off the highway. He attempted to jump from my moving car. He threatened. suicide, all so that I wouldn’t leave him.

Continue reading “Domestic Violence; Her Story”