So, October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. And my spirit is demanding me to honor it, with my Truth. As, I confront this inner calling, I am forced to confront the fear of Truth that comes with it.
I am forced to admit to the Truth of the pain, that burrows in my heart. The sorrow. The guilt. The confusion. The darkness that I must overcome, when I face the Truth of my being a Survivor.
In such, I’ve realized that I’m still a long way from healing. And thus, that much more in need of processing my Truth. For right now. For today. That means posting a Facebook status that I wrote a year ago, in response to my watching the “20/20: The OJ Simpson Tapes.”
May it capture all that my heart, mind and soul, struggle to translate into reality, right now. More importantly, may it strengthen the essence of what it means to survive. To be alive. To heal and be healed.
I survived! As such, I live! I thrive! I heal! And so, Motivation lives in me! May my hurt become your healing! A’se!
Last night, I watched the 20/20 special on OJ’s Lost Tapes. In spite of the crazy shade the special threw at Black people generally, and the Black jurors on his trial particularly, I was able to make a stark revelization from watching.
As my mom and I sat there, watching this story of OJ’s abuse of Nicole, I kept getting sooo angry. After a while, my outrage over this man putting his damn hands on this woman, spilled over into reflections of my own abusive past and the abusive pasts of people I love.
My mom and I began recounting stories together. Discussing the escalation periods. The cycle of tension, to the blow up, to the honeymoon. The difference between what her honeymoon stages looked like, versus mine. The fact that my exes and family members who put their hands on me, almost never apologized and always blamed me for inciting it.
We discussed the reasons women stay. The reasons we think we can never outrun the abuser’s cunning, deserve to be abused or in my case, don’t even realized what’s happening, is abuse.
Of all, my mom and I got to the core of all physical abuse. It starts in the mind. With mental, psychological and verbal abuse. It thrives off of a breakdown of the abused person’s self-image, worth and esteem. We came up with some awesome ideas on what we can do together, to save our Black women from the abuse they believe is normal, fair or inescapable.
I noted that one of the huge issues today, is that men think it’s their job to dictate what a healthy woman looks and acts like, and vice versa. No matter what your sexual orientation or gender identity is, you can only vouch for you and your experiences.
Moreover, your perspective can only be indicative of your vantage point. A person who identifies as a man, cannot logically provide an in-depth understanding of how, what or who it takes to be a person, who identifies as a woman.
Uplifting women from abusive relationships, albeit financial, sexual, verbal, physical or psychological, must come from women survivors. Breaking the vicious and evil cycle of abusive men in America, particularly, (a place where we’re subtly socialized to understand women as less than human and deserving of human rights, like respect and safety) must come from men.
When you take pride in putting women down and blaming them for it, with putting your hands on women or having zero respect for women, you need help. In general, when you treat another person like this, despite gender, IT’S NOT OKAY!
I can’t help save men from themselves, only they can do that. I can only speak my truth, to God willing, help save my beautiful women folk (of all racial identities) from themselves. In the end though, I woke up brokenhearted, today. I’m a survivor of every abuse and I wouldn’t even allow myself to own that truth, until last night.
I’ve been protecting my abusers and covering my denial and shame. If y’all only knew man! I have scars that have yet to heal, from being thrown and pushed around by my ex. And I chose that man. I loved that man. Or thought I loved that man.
Before I knew how to love myself. I loved many men who have taken their infamous pick, at working to destroy/ minimize my strong sense of self. I learned that from a father that never even raised me!
Do you see how real that is?! Wooohhh Saaaa! I suppose all of this is a part of my healing and quest to release my anger/ live the essence of tranquilo. It’s just heavy. I gotta forgive myself for not knowing better. Gotta forgive all the men in my life for not doing better. Forgive a world that creates such a sick and evil dichotomy of identity and being.
Anywho, Black women and women everywhere, I’m omw! My growth and success is OUR growth and success. I am my sister’s keeper! As for the men who are afraid of women like me, you should be more afraid of men like you.
At the end of the day, whether you believe it or not, your body was borrowed and you will answer for all you have done and the lack thereof. For that reason, and so many more, I’m the least of your worries. Okay. I’m done. For now. Thanks Facebook. It’s been REAL!