Tiny Ripples

It's true that my life, like everyone else's, has had its share of potholes and brick walls.  Through all of the tragedies and triumphs though, one thing holds true - the universe has surrounded me with exactly the right people in exactly the right moments.  I'm not sure I will ever have the words to adequately describe the strength and support I receive from them, but those people have left enduring marks on my heart.

I have to admit, I was a little caught off-guard by the response to my last posting.  I tend to go off on tangents, especially in areas in which I am passionate, and this was no exception.  Through emails, phone calls and public postings (thank you to a very dear friend for sharing for others to see), I realized that my one tiny ripple reached more people than I could have ever imagined.

Within 48 hours of that posting, I received this poem.  Tonight I want to share it with you.  For all of my readers, both those I know and those I have never met, thank you for allowing me the safe place to open up:

I'm Glad I Touched Shoulders With You

There's a comforting thought at the close of a day

When I'm weary and lonely and sad

That sort of takes hold of my crusty old heart

and bids it be merry and glad.

It gets in my soul and drives out the blues,

and it finally thrills through and through:

It is just a sweet memory that chants the refrain,

I'm glad I touched shoulders with you.

Did you know you were brave,

Did you know you were strong?

Did you know that I waited and prayed

and was cheered by your simplest word?

Did you know that I longed for the smile on your face?

For the sound of your voice ringing true?

Did you know I grew stronger and better because

I have merely touched shoulders with you?

I'm glad that I live, that I battle and strive

For the place that I know I must fill;

I am thankful for sorrows; I'll meet with a grin

What fortune may send, good or ill.

I may not have wealth, I may not be great,

But I know I shall always be true,

For I have for eternity that love that you gave

Because I rubbed shoulders with you.

-Author Unknown

May you all continue to be that light for others.

Let's Talk About It

I just attended a domestic violence conference and between the heart-wrenching statistics shared there and the media storm that accompanied all of the young girls who tweeted they would allow Chris Brown to beat them following his appearance on the Grammy's, I feel compelled to do something I have very rarely done.

So let's talk about it.

Earlier in my life, I became involved with a guy that I originally thought was pretty damn amazing.  He seemed to be well-liked, had a bit of a bad boy edge, and was definitely into me.  Little did I know what I was actually getting involved in after that first date.

Through a series of events (which we'll save for some future blog), I had begun to think that love somehow involved some version of hurt.  My self-esteem was already floundering when I met this guy, I was at a point in my life where I had just started to come into my own and develop my own identity, and I fell HARD.  Things seemed wonderful at first....but even that didn't last very long.

Over the course of a few months it became increasingly obvious that I was much more considered property than a girlfriend.  I was expected to do things, say things, be things that he wanted, and there was constant ridicule and humiliation if I failed to comply.  At some point, things went from verbal and emotional abuse to physical. I somehow managed to hide the increasing amount of violence from everyone who loved me while still attempting to hold on to this "man".

One of the last violent moments still sticks in my mind as if it is somehow permanently imprinted there, like a horrible nightmare that just keeps replaying over and over.  It was late and I was ready to leave his house, ready to go home for the night.  I had already heard some really not-so-pleasant things about me, my body, and, without going into graphic details, my ways of doing things.  When I vocalized that I was heading home, the look in his eyes was almost crazed.  I was stripped of my clothing and locked in a room - an effort aimed at imparting humiliation and degradation but also at making it very clear who was actually in charge.  Again, no graphic details here, but it was a very long night.  When I finally arrived home I looked as if I had just been hit by a bus - I was covered in ash and Jack Daniels and could see the beginnings of more than just a few bruises.

Something in me came alive when I looked in the mirror that day.  I knew that if my parents had seen me (or smelled for that matter) that morning I would be in serious trouble.  More than anything, though, I knew I would see the concern in their eyes.  It's then that the voice in my head finally spoke up to support me - saying that there was no way I could continue on this path.

I made the decision to get out, made my plan, and eventually packed up and moved to California.  But the violence didn't end there.  He attacked me via all forms of social networking (at that time it was email and instant messenger - thank goodness Twitter and Facebook didn't exist, who knows how horrible that could have been) and flew out to California.  I became a statistic (it takes, on average, 7 attempts to leave an abusive situation), but when I refused to do the things he wanted me to do because the voice in my head was getting stronger, he attacked me verbally, told me I was never going to be wife-material, and packed up and left.  I never spoke to him again.

Let me be perfectly clear here - just because I walked away from an abusive relationship doesn't mean I am any better than those who choose to stay.  What it does mean is that one day I realized that I couldn't do it anymore, that I couldn't be that person any longer.  I do not look at women who choose to stay and blame them.  I WAS them.  For a long time.  It took a very long time to be able to look at myself in the mirror, to believe that the person staring back at me was not the person he convinced me I was.  I still have those moments today, more than 10 years later.  I understand the pain and heartbreak associated with an abusive relationship, both being in one and leaving one.  I understand the toll that takes on you and your life for years. I hope that if you are reading this and identifying with the situation, that you are not judged but supported by those who really love you.

So what needs to be done? What we need is not only to teach our girls that they are strong, competent, and that no man is ever going to be worth that, but also to teach our boys that violence is NEVER EVER okay.  I am not property, you are not my master, and the belief systems that encourage that way of thinking need to disappear.  We'll be able to do that when we start speaking up, loudly, and putting a face and a name to the violence.

You now have mine.

May all of you be treated with dignity, respect and love - today and always.

The Upside of Running Away

A few weeks back I took a much needed break from reality.  I packed a bag, decided against telling anyone I was leaving and ran away from my life.  And while I know there are a few of you out there skipping over words right now trying to get to the juicy part of THAT story, I’m sorry to say I’m still not sharing.  I firmly believe there are some moments, some memories in our lives that we should keep just for ourselves.  Ones that we only share with the person(s) we made them with.  But I digress.

I had reached a point in my life in which simply turning off the ringer on my phone and curling up on the couch wasn’t going to do any good.  I needed to be someone other than Jen, if only for a few days.  I needed to shut off the every day and be free to absorb the little joys in life.

  

We all have moments that can wreak havoc on our emotions - different situations that lead to a questioning of ourselves and if we’re truly on the right path.  I have a tendency to allow myself to be overpowered by the voice in my head that, despite any visible successes, knows exactly what to say to knock me off my feet.  This voice can become massive and cruel and can use almost any situation to point out all of my fears and weaknesses, turning them into some skewed version of the truth.  

I have learned, throughout my life, that running away from my problems for a short amount of time helps alleviate the voice in my head.  I think that denial is the mind’s way of allowing the body to continue to heal because if we continued to be stuck inside our minds, our physical selves would deteriorate until there was nothing left.  

I’m not saying that running away is a permanent coping skill to problems in our lives.  All that really happens then is the our problems find new homes in the places we ran to.  But running away for a short amount of time can give us the energy we need to face whatever challenges await with the courage and strength that was being depleted.  

And while I’m still not sharing, I will tell you that my break from Jen was exactly what I needed at that exact moment.  And for that I am grateful - grateful for those who accept me for who I am and for those who allow me to be whatever I want to be.

May you all find moments of rejuvenation today...