Posts Tagged ‘abuse’

Marching for What?

Sunday, January 22nd, 2017

women march

Pssst, have you heard? About the march? Women from all walks of life and corners of the country traveled to Washington DC and other cities to march on behalf of every jilted, cheated, mis-treated and over-looked woman on the planet this past weekend. You know, the women who feel as if they have zero rights. The ones who’ve been squished down and stepped on or mistreated by those horrible creatures called men.

Now, I’m not saying it’s not possible that any of these gals have ever felt any of those feelings. There are a lot of females on this planet and each one has lived a life full of moments and who’s to say which ones have been positive or negative? Not me.

I wasn’t even in school yet the first time I was sexually molested, by a man. It wouldn’t be the last time either. It’s impossible to understand the attraction of an adult to a little child. But, many crave just that…an innocent human being without a voice.

Sexual abuse wouldn’t be my only horror growing up. I’ve written about it many times, verbal/physical/emotional abuse were all a part of my world. I don’t admit any of this to seek compassion or empathy but to point out just how confusing the ugliness of the women screaming in the streets felt this weekend.

What in the world?

Why? Stop trying to convince us that women are so mistreated and unfairly judged when you’re wearing vagina costumes, cursing, carrying insulting & obscene signs and excluding women who believe abortion is wrong.

I have every right to hate. I have every right to be angry, to cry, to feel mistreated, to feel abused, to feel the pain that comes from the worst kind of treatment.

Yet, I don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m 50 years old and I’ve come to grips with the abuse that was committed against me. I’ve beaten the demons that swooshed over me and tried to steal my whole life from me all because someone else used me as a piece of garbage. I can say that what happened to me wasn’t ever my fault. I don’t own the guilt of the crime someone else forced on me. I’m not their victim, any more.

I have no qualms with anyone marching for a cause that’s real and true, but do it with all the righteousness that comes from genuine truth. Don’t jumble up your message with filth and ugliness that is stretched beyond what an intelligent society can comprehend. People don’t see you as doing a good work when you’re shouting half-truths or embellishments.

Who really knows what this weekend’s message was? Some have screamed insults towards President Trump, others went on about their bodies being their own (indeed, ladies), some held signs about equal rights….most of it was lost in translation. I can’t help but feel like it was a smear on the political status we find ourselves in as a country.

I get it. Donald Trump wasn’t the person these marchers wanted as their President. There’s not a thing any of us can do, except pray that he leads with a character that blows us all away. The day of choosing a leader has come and gone. The country has spoken with a Republican back in the White House. Get over it. It is what it is.

As the news continues to focus on the march, the rap performances….the jumping up and down of women passionate about their stance – I can’t help but think of the many girls and women all around us that are truly mistreated and abused. Say what you want about this country, we aren’t marrying off our little girls to old men. We aren’t living in neighborhoods that are ravaged by armies of men raping us and murdering our husbands and sons in front of us. We never have to fear or cover our heads and faces out of shame. We can drive, vote, work, not work, live as a gay person, act like a slut, walk around half-naked in public, have as many children as we want, protect ourselves and our kids, make more money than our husbands, be feminine or not, spend our money how we see fit, support who we want politically, go to church/not go to church, worship WHOMEVER we wish whenever we wish, own a Bible, marry whoever we want and the list goes on & on.

We are not oppressed. We are not forgotten. We are not silenced. We are not victims.

So, my message to you who feel it’s your job to set the world straight…. knock it off! Wake up and smell the truth. The reality of what our lives really looks like is nothing like what I’ve watched on my tv this weekend.

If you want to cry out for injustices, think about the ones trapped and or captured in sex trafficking. Look out for the innocent babies that are murdered every single day just because they are an inconvenience or felt to be unwanted. Stick up for the abused children, the molested…the burned and beaten. Walk a mile in the shoes of a military widow or a woman disfigured by a horrible abusive mate. These are real and true injustices.

Women are more powerful than you think. And it doesn’t take a march on a public square to prove it.


Skip It

Thursday, May 10th, 2012

It's almost Mother's Day.  I wish I could just skip it.  Everytime May approaches, I begin to feel stressed and miserable.  It has nothing to do with my own motherhood either.  I'm confident my kids love me and that my husband thinks I'm a good mom.  Our relationship is solid.  Not perfect but comfortably open and loving. Making a big thing about ME on that day is nice but there's still something that lingers over me.  I guess the best way to describe it is a sense of doom or a black cloud of sadness.

Growing up wasn't easy.  My mother was never consistent with her love.  One day she could be warm and the next, toxic and vengeful.  I knew she loved me but her behavior was harsh and confusing.  I never knew which emotion to count on.  Everything seemed to hinge on her circumstances at that moment.  Maybe that's how we all parent and I just don't notice it in my own life.  For me, back then….it was a rough way to live.

I couldn't wait to mother my own children.

I promised myself that I wouldn't do or say the things she did.  I wish I could say that I've kept that promise but I can't.  I've fallen short and acted foolish as a mom myself.  I recognize full well that this job is one of the most challenging I'll ever have.  Still, I have made it my goal to teach my kids unconditional love.  I may have yelled at them in an angry voice but I've never skipped an opportunity to confess when I was wrong or to say I was sorry.

They know I sin because I've admitted it to them and I've asked them to forgive me.  I've also shown them by my example that people make mistakes and they are always worthy of forgiveness and redemption.  Afterall, Christ died for all not just a few.  I was never given forgiveness by my own mother nor was I ever asked to forgive her.  Everything that ever happened between us…was my fault.

I deserved it.

Years of this behavior has stolen from me the trust that most share between mother and daughter.  Our relationship is toxic.  Even talking on the phone is abusive and can make me feel 11 years old all over again.  Powerless and pathetic.  So, I avoid her.  

She hurts me, but accuses that of me.  Still, confusion.

Who never calls their daughter?  Who speaks with such meanspirited words everytime I CALL HER?  Who says horrible things about their grown functioning adult child to anyone who'll listen?  Who hasn't sent a birthday card to her daughter or grandchildren in years?  Who never says "I'm sorry, I was wrong"?  Who has lived her life bitter and hateful towards her own children?  Who feels jealousy and envy against anything good in their child's life?  Who?

My mother, that's who.

My dreams of a healthy mother/daughter relationship are reaching an end.  Her poor health and the distance apart that we live have pretty much completed our destiny.  She doesn't have it in her to be the mother that I've needed.  Her idea and mine are not the same.  For her, being in charge of the entire relationship is what matters most and if I can't accept that…then she doesn't need me.  Even though, she needs me.  

I don't know if I should hate her or thank her.  Because no matter what, I am the mom I am because of her.  Nothing I can do can change that.  She is my mother.  It was her that God entrusted me to 45 years ago.  What I do with that now is crucial to what my own children will do with their parenting decisions.  I want them to be healthy and loving.  While I can't change a single mistake that's transpired between she and I…I can be the mother God has called me to be.

And someday….the grandmother too.



My heart swells with joy when I think of how special the bond is between my own kids and I.  It's a love like no other.  I'm thankful, proud and madly in love with each one of them.  I count them a blessing, a treasure, a privilege that they are mine (and YOURS).  Help me understand how a mother can't feel those things for me.  I want to be loved, nothing more.  Thank you for your love and the mercy & grace you lavishly blanket over me, everyday.