Self-Defense

 

"I don't want my past to become anyone else's future." Elie Wiesel

My fourteen yr. old came home from school....told me she's learning self-defense. The school's teaching the girls how to fight....what to do if they're ever attacked....how to protect themselves....how to get free. 

I listened to my tree-loving kid......my gentle wouldn't hurt a fly child - She went into great detail about some of the techniques she's already learned ....various moves...which body parts to go for......and the instructor's encouragment to not be afraid to bite, kick, scratch and scream.  She spoke fast....her voice excited....animated.... but then she hesitated....her face flushed....her eyes held that hint of shyness... 

I thought of myself at fourteen....fighting to survive....using my instincts..... fueled by fear and hatred that gave me the strength I needed to fight back...

I never want my dgt. to feel what I felt....I never want her to know fear the way I knew it or the hatred or look in someone's eyes and see the evil that can live in a human being.....  

It's freaky Ma, The instructor's gonna jump us.....we have to do whatever we can to get free. Her voice was soft.

You afraid? I asked. 

She climbed on my lap....put her head on my shoulder. Maybe. 

It's okay to be afraid.  I stroked her hair. 

I silently prayed....that no one would ever hurt her for real.  I'm trusting He'll protect her....keep her safe and because I love her and my other daughter....I've finally chosen to tell what happened to me.....to make a difference....in the hope that my past will never become anyone else's future.

Daughter

"A mother's treasure is her daughter."  ~Catherine Pulsifer

My oldest is turning fourteen on Saturday. For the past couple of years, people have been telling me....wait till she's a teen....then things will get out of control. She'll be wild, mouthy....disrespectful. I told them they don't know my kid. I know her....She's amazing....a great kid...a kid who always sees the positive...the bright side of things...the good in people.. She's my tree hugger....the one who wants to protect the earth and wildlife.... and help others and give back in ways that make a difference. 

She's my kid who can fix anything....do mathematics in her head....and create beautiful works of art from scraps of nothing.

But....like her mom, she struggles to make decisions, often doesn't know what she likes or wants and saves her money rather than spending it. 

She's never talked back....and when I'm down....she whispers in my ear, Know Hope and rubs my back and tells me things will be ok. Her and I talk about everything and anything. I value her opinion and the amazing thing....she values mine.  

I'm totally proud of her. Inspite of where I've come from...she's turned out to be an awesome kid. 

When I had her.... I was terrified I would hurt her....that I would do to her what was done to me. I wanted to break that cycle of violence. I spent hours in the dark begging Him to help me be a mom....the kind of a mom I never had....a mom who would love her kids....love them in ways they needed. I had no idea how to do to that. I didn't know how to be a mother. I just knew I didn't want to hurt my kids like I had been hurt. I didn't want them to ever feel the fear, shame and pain I had. I didn't want them to grow up and live on the street, lost, alone.....stoned....vulnerable to every perpetrator of harm.    

You know what? He helped me....He helped me love my kids. The gentleness of His love...taught me acceptance and respect. He heard....He made the difference.

Yogurt Tubes, Ravioli & Confidence

"Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside." Mark Twain

My nine year old is not crazy about yogurt. I tried the cups, tubes and drinks....The only time she eats them is if there's little else in her lunch bag.  The other morning I sent her to school with a sandwich, a yogurt tube, some cookies, fruit and a drink. As soon as she walked in the door she blurted out, Mom, I'm starving. 
I guess you ate your yogurt? I said.

Uh uh.  
What?  
Uh uh. I put it back in the fridge.  
You starving? She nodded.. Then go have the yogurt. 
Uh uh. 
My older daughter came down the stairs and hearing the conversaton said...Bet you ate the cookies. 
Uh huh. smiled my youngest.
Go eat the yogurt. I said.  
Nope. I want ravioli. 
Ravioli? 
Yes. 
But it's only 4:00 p.m. Go eat the yogurt.  
Nope. I won't.  
Then I'm calling Nanny 911. 
Grinning at me with her chubby little face all lit up, she answered...She won't just come because I won't eat yogurt. 
I cracked up. Eat the yogurt. 
No. 
Eat the yogurt. 
No.  
Who'se stronger me or you? 
By now she was laughing so hard. Me.

You bet I told her. Go have Ravioli. 

How does she do it? How does this little person have the confidence to stand up for what she wants. I love that. I love that she's not afraid to hold onto what she wants....and go for it and not back down.

Watching her....listening to her....makes me feel good - because in her...and in my older daughter...I know the cycle of abuse has been broken.  They're not growing up afraid to speak....to say what they think...to own what they want. They trust life....they trust me....and mostly they trust themselves. 

They're my best teachers....how living free should be....My nine yr. old knows what she likes and doesn't like. I on the other hand, still struggle knowing what I want, what I like, what I don't like....And I do things because I think I should, not always because I want. 

I used to work with this older man; a recovering alcoholic - he told me all the time....inch by inch it's a cinch..yard by yard it's hard. I still hear his voice...those words in my head.....simple words...yet powerful. 

I'm watching my girls....listening to them...learning how to live free.

Living Free

"Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: I'm with you kid, Let's go." 

Maya Angelou

My nine yr. old does everything with passion. She makes everything look so awesome. When she eats - it's with gusto, savoring each bite as if it were her last. When she sleeps, she makes her bed look so cozy that I just want to crawl in beside her. And when she laughs, her face completely lights up and her whole body laughs with her......

She's also my kid who finds $10 bills on the ground in the supermarket, and spots trinkets and treasures no one else notices. Hiking through the woods, she's the one who shouts with glee, don't step on the frogs. Frogs? What frogs? She points. There in the brush - almost invisable  - tiny frogs....

Life through my nine yr. old's eyes is rich, exciting, nothing to be missed, everything to be enjoyed. I love that. I love watching her....I love being a part of her world...of her discoveries....every experience an exciting adventure....

Living life with enthusiasm...living life as if everything is a miracle...a fresh new experience..full of wonder, full of joy.

I've spent most of my life living the opposite - moving cautiously - fearful -trying hard to be invisible - believing I had no right to exist, no right to live - no right to the wonders and thrills life offers. I've tried to live without being seen, or heard.......

My daughter has never been abused, never beaten, never called names, never left alone for hours, never criticized, never shamed.......My nine year old is teaching me how we're supposed to live our lives. Free. Full of joy. Excited.

I want to live like my nine year old - looking at life with fresh eyes - I'm discovering some of that freedom as I 'voice' what happened - all those horrible things - the years spent wondering if death would be better than life....

I survived. I survived for a reason. I survived to tell - I survived to live free - to not be afraid anymore. There are days I feel like my nine year - days when just smelling the earth feels better than anything - or feeling so energized that I need to dance around the house with the girls or belt out songs that my neighbours can hear me singing.....

When I think of where I was, how dark life had been, how empty and painful - and then I think of where I am now - I'm stunned at the transformation - I remember standing on the rooftop ready to jump to my death - or sitting in that fire not even trying to get out - or the many drug overdoses, or being held and raped thinking I would die in that house.....how did I survive?  I don't know. I have no idea - but I did survive.

Somehow He saw worth where I saw none. Somehow He knew.... I want to live like my 9 yr. old. He's given me a 2nd chance - a chance to live my life with passion - to live each day of my life as if it were my last.

Letting go and A Plug for a Friend

"There are two lasting bequests we can give our children.  One is roots.  The other is wings." ~Hodding Carter, Jr.

My 13 year old came home from school and handed me a form. "Can you fill it out, Mom. I want to go on the trip." Trip? What trip? "Next June 2010 - our school is going to........" I looked at the face of my child. Her sweet smile, her innocent face. She wanted to go. Her friends were going. She didn't want to be left out.

The words, of course you can go came out of my mouth, but in my heart I heard another voice, no, don't ask me that. You can't go. Something might happen to you. Something awful. I won't let you go.
I'm afraid - afraid to let her go. She'll be 14 next June. How could I say no. How could I deny her the right to experience her life.

I'm hoping they don't get enough kids and have to cancel - I'm hoping because I'm afraid - afraid of losing her, afraid of what can happen...... Images dance in my head - images of terrible things - I feel the panic - I won't be close enough to help her, to protect her - to keep her safe.

I never want her to feel fear, or experience being trapped like I did. I never want her to look into the eyes of a madman, a rapist, a crazed person and feel terror. I never want her to be held against her will - humiliated -shamed....fighting for her life....fighting to survive.  Everything inside me is praying; My sweet girl - please don't go. I know I'm praying the wrong thing. I need to pray protection over her and I will - but my instincts to protect her, to not let happen to her what happened to me takes over.

I survived horrible things. I know that now. I didn't always know it. I had always believed it was me that caused everything to happen -somehow I had brought it on......something about me made it happen.....
It's been a long fight to find my way back home to myself. I've become strong. Yet if something like what happened to me, happens to one of my girls - I won't be able to live. I won't be able to fight. The thought of them scared, terrified, hurting makes me crazy. I just want to hold onto my daughter and never let her go. But I also don't want to make her afraid of life - I can't transfer my fears onto her -

I am so afraid - afraid of letting her go. I'm trying to remember the opposite of fear is faith. Letting go and trusting God to keep her safe - to bring her home....to not let anything bad happen to her..the trip is almost a year away. For today -for right now - I don't have to think about her going. For today - I have time to learn to let go, to trust, to move from fear of what happened to me - to faith it won't happen to her.


Madison from Addiction -in God We Trust - was getting a lot of Spam because of the word addiciton in the heading. Her writing is amazing, detailing her journey from a parent's perspective. Her new blog is up and running. Check it out or if you are a Madison fan, want to read some awesome stuff from the heart of a parent and didn't know she moved......Here's the link. 
http://fight-of-your-life.blogspot.com/

"The soul is healing by being with children." Fyodor Dostoyevsky

My kids are the absolute best. In some weird way, they have helped me heal from the pain of the past.

When I had my oldest, I was terrified I would hurt her and do to her what was done to me. While she slept, I locked myself in the bathroom, turned off the light and in the dark, knelt down on the floor. I begged God to help me not to hurt her. I was terrified. I heard those who were abused, abuse their children. I spent hours in that bathroom, on the floor, begging God to help me never to harm my child. I pleaded with Him to teach me how to be a good mother. I didn't know how. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. All I knew was this innocent little creature depended on me to give her what she needed. I felt so overwhelmed, so afraid.

On days I felt exhausted and impatient, when the building tension inside me needed a release, I cut myself, or threw up, - the only ways I knew to be strong and not fall apart.

I became aware of the power I had over this child. She was so small, so vulnerable, so trusting - I watched her grow, each year of her life more awesome than the previous. It amazed me to see how freely she moved in her body, how easily she laughed and chatted, how safe she felt in her world. I prayed over and over, "God, don't let me ever take that away from her."

Watching her, I saw me as a child; - terrified - hiding, afraid, hating everything about who and what I was. Hating my body, - believing it was my enemy; Unable to speak, - my words caught in my throat; anxious, on guard, - always petrified of getting hurt.

With each stage of her life, I saw myself,- at eight hiding under the balcony, in dark corners biting my arms, slicing deep gashes on my skin, shooting dope into my arms, refusing to eat, living on edge, trying desperately to avoid getting caught, getting hurt.

Then something strange and wonderful happened. I learned to play. I don't know exactly when or how, I just did. All this energy inside me wanted to come out in positive ways. I took my kids into the woods and together we felt the power of nature. The deer came out and the blueherons and my kids went nuts. I went nuts with them. We climbed to the top of the mountains and then we chased each other all the way down to the bottom. I took them to hideouts, and neat secret places that became our places to dream, to talk, to laugh, to bond.

I have never called my kids names, or hurt them. When I'm having a bad day and become irritable and impatient, I apologize to them, letting them know it's me and not them. Since they were little, I have told them I am the luckiest mom in the world to have been blessed with the greatest kids ever.


Teachers, friends and neighbours tell me all the time how amazing they are, how good, and kind and wonderful. God had heard me. He helped me learn how to be a good mom. Yesterday my teenage daughter told me I rock, that I'm her best friend, that she loves me to the moon and back a gazillion times.

My kids have no idea what I lived. I used to think if they did know, they would hate me. I don't think that anymore. I think maybe they would be proud of their mom for having survived and overcome what I have. One day, I'll tell them. For today, I just want to build courage and strength in them and to make sure they know they are completely accepted and respected for who they are.