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.

Weakness and Tears

"Tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it." Albert Smith

I learned to fight. I learned to fight to survive. And to never show weakness. To show weakness meant defeat.

And he had taught me - his fist in my face, 'don't you dare cry.' I never did. I swallowed the fear. I forced myself to be strong. I cut my body instead to fight the urge to give in - to buckle - to fall.

When he beat or ridiculed me - I refused to let him see how terrified I was. And when the rapist held me in that house I cried only the first time - After that - I never did. I forced myself to be strong - to never let him see my fear. When I was detained - I refused to cry. I wouldn't show them I was afraid. Instead I fought. I fought to stay strong.

I was driving back from a friend's. My 13 yr. old, then just a baby, was in the back in her car seat. Without thinking, I pulled off to the side of the road and started crying. The tears kept coming. They wouldn't stop.

I wasn't crying because I had to fight someone to stop them from hurting me. I was crying because I felt inadequate as a mother.

This baby depended on me to protect her and keep her safe. I felt overwhelmed. I had no idea how how to be a mother. I only knew how to fight - I only knew how to survive.

I cried not because of someone's hatred towards me - not because someone was hurting me. I cried because I loved this child and I didn't want her to ever feel shame and pain and fear like I had. I cried because I was afraid I couldn't give her what she needed.

Love made me cry. Not hate, not violence, not having to fight to survive.