hey kids: watch me chase my tail!

it’s getting real up in here bisches. in an effort to be completely true up in here i’m letting you in on a little secret: i’m a fucking idiot.

well…i am and i’m not.

you see…there’s this boy…

and now it’s all making sense…isn’t it?

you may have heard me mention the new boy. he’s a doll. he really is. he smart, funny, easy to be around, well respected among his peers, driven, has a plan laid out and is actively pursuing it. he’s worked hard to get here and doesn’t take anything for granted.

he’s also a gentleman- he likes to hold my hand out in public, put his arm around me, make sure everybody knows i’m with him…

he insists on opening my door for me when i get in or out of a car…absolutely insists on it…

he’s very concerned about me…you know…he really likes to know where i’m going and with whom…and it’s very disrespectful if i don’t let him know…

he’s concerned about my health and likes to know what medicine the doctor prescribed and check the container to make sure i’m taking it…

he’s never felt this way with anyone before…i’m different, i’m special, i’m an angel made just for him and he loves me…

he’s sensitive, so i need to be careful about how i talk to him so i don’t offend him or show disrespect…

and by the way…he’s a MAN. from a MAN’S culture. you know…an in charge man…

hunchback of notre’ dame having a field day in anyone else’s head? it’s like a four alarm fire up in my head…sirens and bells and whistles going off in every. single. direction.

can i solve the puzzle vanna? CONTROL FREAK.

what do i win? oh wait…

i know…it may seem like i’m just being me and bailing out early, but after all these years, i think my gut is pretty finely tuned and i may be finally learning to listen to it.

is he a great guy to be around? heck yeah. fun to dance with, dinner the other night was GREAT. i adore his roommate and his fiancé- they’re adorable to hang out with. all in all he treats me well. he’s strong, confident, lavishes attention on me. it all seems great…right?

but there’s this gut feel. the way he’s not just holding my hand, he’s marking his territory. the way he doesn’t seem to know my real name (calling me baby is NOT acceptable). the way he ½ asks, ½ orders a drink. how he refuses to be around my kids. how he HATES my cat (normally i could understand this, but most guys would just ignore, not antagonize).

there’s the way i got lectured (not yelled at, not berated, simply lectured) for going out saturday night with friends and not letting him know…according to him it was a matter of respect (or disrespect as the case may be).

the fact that i told him (**TMI DISCLAIMER**) that i had an infection in the lady parts (seriously Trojan? could you make a condom that DOESN’T cause an INSTANT yeast infection already please??) and he wanted to check the prescription and see the medicine to make sure that i wasn’t just making up an excuse to not “make the sex” with him

then fact that i’m making excuses…

yes, part of it is his culture. i do understand that it’s a male dominant culture. and i do understand that some of the things he talks about are basic respect issues and i honestly am not used to having someone to check in with…and YES, there is a difference between checking in and asking permission. any married couple or dating couple would naturally let their partner know where they’re at out of respect. they’re not asking permission- they’re just letting someone know in case of emergency, for information, to prevent worry…

but since when do i fall into that category of having someone to let know?

and part of me says that if he wants to become a citizen then he’s going to have to adapt to our culture. arrogant? probably. stupid american thinking? most likely. overly independent woman thinking? definitely.

and yes, i have PMS, so i’m reacting a little more strongly to things than i normally would. but that doesn’t give him a free pass. yes, there is a language/culture barrier and there’s bound to be some misunderstanding. and yes, i’m an abnormally independent, strong willed, out spoken female, but that doesn’t mean i can’t be taken down a peg or two and learn to be a partner as well…

oh wait…that one flipped around on me. damn.

i don’t know. there’s warning bells, but i STRONGLY also believe there’s a reason this is happening. we discovered last night that he had seen me before on the fish sight…yes, THAT fish sight. and he had even emailed me…he knew my profile- the pictures i had posted, what i had written about myself…he remembered that from months ago…so…you know…how random that i stuck out in his memory, he had messaged me then and met me now?

the alarm bells are ringing, and i’m listening. but i’m also trying to be patient and not jump ship quite yet. i’m trying to control my rip cord reflex, but that doesn’t mean i’m taking my hand off the cord just yet…

this has taken a turn…typing it all out has really made me think about it. maybe the reason we’re together is because we’re BOTH such strong personalities and there’s a LOT we could learn from each other. i could learn the difference between control and concern, and he could learn about equality and partnership. i think we might balance each other out. we’ve had a few scraps already, but not knock down drag out’s…we’ve both been able to present our side of things and talk through it rationally…not too many people i can do that with at all…and i’m guessing it’s the same for him. and i’m guessing there’s not many WOMEN, if any at all that would be willing to do that with him. we’re both strong enough to speak for ourselves and both willing to listen to the other person…damn you brain and your turning things around on me…

how do i even sum this up?

YES, i recognize the warnings, and YES, i’m paying attention to them. i’m also recognizing my need to soften my edges and let someone be nice to me and not question every single nice thing someone does.

i think i’ll take a nap now. chasing my own tail is exhausting.

Femme Writes- Abuse: Getting Out

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of August, we’ve chosen to write about Physical and Mental Abuse. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.

violence. abuse. shame. emotional scars. i’ve written about it all before in my blogs. it’s no secret that i’m a domestic violence SURVIVOR. hell, i have it tattooed on my leg. i’ll talk to anyone about what i’ve been through. i’ll try my damndest to help anyone get out of their own situation. talking to a friend the other day, long term goals came up and mine will always be that some day, when i’m all growed up, i want to own a piece of land outside of town with two houses on it- one for my little family, and one fully furnished, stocked to the gills, and ready to go for families needed a place to get away and start over from domestic violence. i want to have a place that won’t say no to people really, honestly looking for a way to get out. it will have long gated driveway that goes DIRECTLY past my house so no assholes can try to sneak in and do what assholes do best: convince the woman that just one more time…it will be different this time, really…

FUCK THAT NOISE. it’s never different. only worse. hellz no…my place is going to be a safe place. a place to start over, get your feet on fresh, solid ground, and go on to be another SURVIVOR like me. i want to turn victims into strong, outspoken survivors that go on to help more women and maybe eventually we’ll all be strong enough and outspoken enough that we’ll run out of victims to help. wouldn’t that be the perfect world? if this didn’t have to do posts on this topic? ever?

but, in the mean time, what is the point of this post? i’m not going to hash over my story again- if you want to read it there’s a few posts about it throughout my blog. i’ve never written about it from start to end…one of these days ill get around to that. but. suffice to say: shitty abusive marriage, and _I_GOT_OUT_.

and that’s what i want to talk about here- GETTING OUT. how i got out, the hope that others can get out, and the best advice i was ever given.

when i finally decided to leave i was 23, had a 5 year old and a 9 month baby, and was only working part time. not exactly the best conditions. but i knew, come hell or high water, it was time. i lived in a VERY small community at the time and i had grown up there so everyone knew me, and, by extension, knew my husband. if you’ve never been to a small town…people TALK. A. LOT. and i knew that if people found out what i was doing and started talking…there would be no way in hell i would ever get out.

so. what do you do?

you get as sneaky and subversive as your abuser, but in a GOOD way. i found people that could help and wouldn’t talk. i found a domestic violence counselor that KNEW how scary it was and how dangerous it was and was just as determined as i was to make a SAFE get away. i learned that when you call about apartment you don’t give out your name until you’re handing in the application. i learned that even in a community awash with “no room for domestic violence” posters and propaganda there are really few people willing to help when the problem is on their own doorstep. you see businesses or apartment owners with the signs in their window and think it’s a safe place to go only to be turned away or hung up on when you dare to utter the words “domestic violence victim”. i don’t know how many apartments i called where they literally hung up on me when i asked if i could quietly move in and not have people know because i was trying to get away from an abusive marriage.

and i get it- i understand…domestic violence is hard on landlords…property destruction, noise, police, disturbing other tenants…i get it. but some of us are really trying to get away…we’re not going back again, we’re not going to have the cops at our house every night to referee the screaming, we just need a little help and a safe harbor.

thanks to the good will of the universe, the hard work of both myself and my DV counselor, and a great landlord i was finally able to find a home and make my get away. my counselor helped me find a brand new (at the time) grant in our state called T.H.O.R. and i was the very first recipient- it was housing assistance specifically for domestic violence victims. sadly, the grant has since gone away- from my understanding there were only a few of us ever able to be part of the program.

i let the new landlord know what was going on and he not only made it okay, he let me know that if there was ever anything else i needed, any other way he could help, just let him know.

and: the most important thing, quite possibly the reason i’m alive today, and THE BEST advice i EVER received, my domestic violence counselor told me: “once he knows you’re leaving, never go anywhere with him alone. ever. he has nothing left to lose at that point.”

i thought she was being overly dramatic. i thought she wasn’t talking about my situation. i thought she was just doing her training. but she’s been trained that way for a reason. she knew to say that FOR A REASON.

sure enough, the day i was packing and leaving, he came home to the uhaul in the driveway and the first thing he said was: can we go somewhere to talk? just the two of us? do you want to guess what i heard in my head? the voice of my counselor: don’t go. don’t go anywhere with him. he has nothing left to lose. DON’T GO. STAND YOUR GROUND. STAND. YOUR. GROUND. and i did. that little voice kept me still. i stood there, in my front yard, in plain sight of the friend that had come to help me, and i didn’t budge an inch. i told him there was nothing left to say. he had told me hundreds of times that he hated me and wanted me gone, so i was leaving. that’s all there is, there is no more. so he left. and i packed, then i left. i wish i could say i never looked back…but there were a few moments of questioning myself. there always are. there’s a few moments of being so completely broke financially, emotionally, everything that i thought maybe…BUT I NEVER WENT BACK. thankfully all i ever did was THINK about it and write about it in my journal, i never actually went back. once i was out I. WAS. OUT. and even after i was out, i kept hearing her words- my counselor, the strong woman who made me strong by example: never be alone with him.

so…what am i trying to say? all in all, i hope i made a few points…YOU CAN GET OUT. there are people who will help. sometimes you really have to dig to find them, and that SUCKS. but you can do it. you can come through the other side and be stronger. you can learn and teach and become ok again. hell…email me, leave an anonymous comment, I WILL FIND A WAY TO HELP YOU. if you know someone that needs help, PLEASE be the one to reach out. and i know it’s hard. i know that many women say they want help only to go back to the same mess over and over again. it can be draining. it can be frustrating. but i believe it can be worth it all if it’s the ONE TIME that she actually breaks free and stays away.

and please, always remember, for yourself, for friends, for stranger, for anyone in this situation: NEVER GO ANYWHERE ALONE WITH THEM ONCE THEY KNOW YOU’RE LEAVING. there are too TOO many news stories about women who went back just one more time…they thought they were just going to have a quiet talk…it’ll be okay…it’s just one last conversation…and you never see them again. i won’t say i was lucky, because it was a damn lot of hard work, but i WAS lucky that i had excellent people that knew what to say and found paths for me to walk…but i still had to walk them.

some day kids…some day we will look back with a sad smile. we will remember what we’ve gone through. we will remember the words we wrote to help others. we will be sad that such a time ever existed. and then we will rejoice that through our words, through our help, others have been spared. other women won’t have a story to tell. AND THAT WILL BE A VERY GOOD DAY.

i am not afraid

i'm still afraid. that's not entirely true. i'm still terrified. to the point of shaking and feeling sick to my stomach when i think about it. to the point where it derails my day, i become focused and my already high-gear mind goes into super overdrive. i instantly want to hide, to cry. i feel instantly defenseless, weak, stupid, small, insignificant. it's been five years. FIVE YEARS and i still feel this way. after not even two years. it took me about 2 hours to decide to send an email today, and then when a response came in i was instantly sick and almost started crying.

who is this person? who is this weak, scared girl? where is the super woman that isn't afraid of anyone? where's the person that chews out teachers when they insult my kids? where's the woman that calls people on their crap and doesn't take shit from anyone? where is the super mom that can handle anything on any day (as long as there's mascara and chapstick in the utility belt)? where is the woman that doesn't walk anywhere...she struts...hell, POWER STRUTS.

for the people that say domestic violence is only the type that leaves physical bruises...BULLSHIT. there are things worse than bruises. way worse. fuck...i would rather deal with a bruise any day of the week than this.

i suppose an explanation would be helpful about now: child support stopped coming in a few weeks ago for smaller child. this means that ex has either a) moved again, b) lost his job, or c) both. myspace has been great for tracking him in the past...it's how i found out he moved to arizona last year, and found out where he was working and was able to get support started again after the same thing happened last august. well, myspace isn't giving up any information this go round...EXCEPT for the new "whole family" picture he posted with new wife and new kids. i was about 10% offended for my son that he isn't part of "the whole family" but 90% relieved that he isn't part of that "whole family" and is 100% a part of my whole family instead. so, in search of more information, i checked to see if he had a facebook page started, and sure enough he does...and he's listed as living in spokane now. it seriously took me several hours to decide to email him because that means he can find me (yes, i know he could have found me anyway, but i don't like to think of that). and i'm still so terrified of him...i'm terrified of what his response will be. i'm terrified that he'll want to see my son (which would be the most horrible thing ever). i'm terrified that he'll start yelling and screaming at me again reducing me to the sad, ever apologizing, half of a person that i was 5 years ago when i was married. and the sad, defenseless person i was two years ago when i had to face him in court for a child support revision. i'm still terrified of him.

and i'm still terrified of who i was when i was with him. and i'm terrified of becoming that person again with anyone else...which is the main reason why there hasn't been anyone else. i don't get close to people. i try like hell not to care about or get attached to people (guys) because in my twisted mind they're all like him. and in my twisted mind if they're all like him, then i'll become like her again. that sad girl who was afraid to use the phone. the girl who wouldn't leave the house without makeup because he would be mad. the girl who could only wear certain clothes or talk to certain people. the girl who was scared to make dinner because if he didn't like it there would be hell to pay (and a never touched tater tot casserole in the fridge for a month). i don't want to be the girl who won't eat pineapple again. the girl who waited by the phone all night because if i missed any of his calls from work i would be in trouble. i don't want to be the girl that spent $30,000 on things to try to keep him happy and only realized too late that there would never ever be enough things to accomplish that.

five years and i still haven't figured out how NOT to be terrified. i've moved on for the most part. i'm back to who i was before any of that happened. i'm a strong, independent, successful, amazing person...until i have to deal with the past. a huge part of me wants to just say FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, knock his lights out and be over it. maybe that's it. maybe i've never had a chance to show him the strong person i am and let him know he can't bully me any more...mostly because any time i have to be near him i panic (ok...that's not fair...the only time i've seen him was in court which was stressful and panic inducing, not necessarily because of him...). maybe that's it. i know i'm not that person any more. and i can't be that person ever again. and i just have to be me. all the time. he can't hurt me ever again. he can't hurt my family. i can't be scared of him. there's nothing to be scared of. he's just a sad bully. he has to make other people feel weak and small because he knows he's weak and small.

i will not be afraid. i will not be bullied. i am not scared. FUCK YOU ASSHOLE.