Changing My Reflection

Usually, when I talk about the abuse I went through, I don't really talk that much about my mother. It's always about the abuse my dad put me through or the abuse that I suffered in my marriage. Yes, the abuse they both put me through did effect me, but seeing my mom get abused and what she went through greatly effected me as well. When kids see violence going on in their home, they are effected by it whether they are getting abused or not.

There were a few years in my childhood where things were all right and there was peace in the home. My memory only takes me back so far; I don't exactly remember everything that happened in my family when I was a little kid. Most of the memories I have center around the time that I started going through the abuse which was when I was 11 years old. But at one point, the family did seem to be happy and there wasn't any abuse.

My mom use to be a lot like me. She was a very strong woman who had her own opinions, who was involved in her kids' lives, who was very creative, and very loving and caring. We were close during a brief period of my childhood. I can still remember the shopping trips we'd go on, the trips we'd take, how she was involved with my school and planned activities and field trips for my class, how she would keep score at my basketball games and be there to cheer me on. Honestly, I like to hang onto those memories of my mom before I saw her totally change and watched her sink into depression. I like to think of my mom as that beautiful, caring person that she use to be. Even though our relationship changed and fell apart, at one time my mom was my best friend.

I'm not sure exactly when my father started abusing her. I know that there were problems between them before they ever got married. Often, I would hear my parents fight and hear my dad say how he was going to look for another place to live. Talk about divorce was something common to hear in my family. I remember one time my mom telling me and my brother that we would have to choose who we were going to live with. But it never happened. Instead, she chose to stay with my dad. The only time that she actually thought about really leaving him for good was the day that he slapped me across the face for the first time. She took me and my brother and we went for a drive. Stopping at a grocery store, she called a friend of hers from a payphone. I thought that we were going to go over there, but we didn't. After hanging up with her friend, she drove back home. I really wish she would have had the strength to leave him.

I never really understood why my mom stayed with my dad. As time went on, though, I began to see why she chose to stay. The brainwashing my father used on her broke her spirit down. I saw how he treated her, from breaking things in front of her to taking her by the arm and throwing her down on the bed. Those are images I cannot forget. Because he destroyed her self-esteem, she was too insecure. She didn't leave because well she didn't have a college education and she had very few friends, so I believe she stayed due to her fear of being alone to raise two kids on her own. Since she was so use to the abuse from my father, she thought she couldn't get any better and that she didn't deserve anything better. So I lived my childhood being a victim to his abuse. She never intervened when my dad abused me either even though time and time again I intervened for her.

When I was 13, my mom really started sinking into depression. At the place my father worked, there was some lady he had been casually flirting with and who he was trying to help get over a divorce. Now, to this day, I do not know the whole truth about what happened between him and her. I will never know the real truth, I'm sure. It's probably best that way, too. From the story my father told me and my brother, he did flirt with her and she started liking him. However, my father was not about to cheat on my mother so he never had any kind of intimate relationship with this woman. Apparently, it made her mad that she couldn't have him so she went to Human Resources and claimed he was sexually harassing her. My dad was fired from his job. They didn't listen to his side of the story and the papers that he signed said that me and my brother could not go back and sue the company for firing him or sue the lady who lied about him. Oh, trust me, if I could find her, I would sue her. Then again, all the money in the world couldn't fix the damage that she caused my family.

Because of that incident, my mom sank into depression and was never the same again. She believed my father had cheated on her. I watched my mom just fade away, becoming a shadow of the person that she once was. She completely withdrew from me and my brother's lives, never interested in what was going on. I would tell her I was going to my friend's house or going to the movies with them, and she would say okay. She wasn't even aware that my grades at school were dropping. All I remember during that time was my mom locking herself up in the bathroom or bedroom. She refused to come out and stayed locked up for hours at a time. I could always hear her crying, too. Looking back, I wish I would have been there more for her, to tell her how much I loved her and cared about her.

Since she didn't believe my father, the tables turned in the family and she began to try to brainwash my father. Behind closed doors, she made him repeat things over and over again about how there were no other women in his life and how she was the only one. She did not want him going to the mall because she thought he was looking at other women. When driving through cities on vacations, she would tell my father to close his eyes when she spotted a billboard that she thought very inappropriate. I was not allowed near my dad. If I even ventured to go into his office at home to see him, she told me to leave him alone, that I would only be distracting him. One time, she got upset when she came home from work and saw me sitting on my dad's lap. She admitted to me once when I was younger that she was jealous of the relationship I had with my dad since at one time, I was close to my dad and was Daddy's Little Girl. She never had a close relationship with her father because my grandfather had an affair and divorced my grandmother when my mom was very little. My grandfather never spent time with my mom, either. When she'd go visit him, he would ignore her and her stepmom was the one who spent time with her. Her stepmom didn't even care that much for kids.

My mom drove my dad to the point he wanted to end his life. She would start fights with him and I would hear her tell him things such as "Hit me." She egged him on. My mom even went as far to lie to him about me and my brother and get us into trouble. It's as if she enjoyed lying about us just to see us get in trouble. She started buying herself clothes but didn't even bother to take care of me and my brother. We had to take care of ourselves because my parents went out to eat all the time and went places all the time, leaving us behind. So yes, there was neglect in my family as well.

The one thing I was always afraid of was being like my mom. I saw how she stayed with my father and saw how she sank into depression and I didn't want to be like that. My mom use to tell me that I would marry someone exactly like my father. Everytime she told me that, my response was always then I just won't get married. However, I did get married to a guy exactly like my father. It was during my marriage that I went through the same things my mom went through. I entered some pretty dark times in my marriage where I felt myself on the edge of life. I stood on the edge of life, looking down, considering taking the fall and giving up because of what he put me through.

Just like my mom, I locked myself in the bathroom and wouldn't come out. I started suffering anxiety attacks, began self inflicting again, and blacked out a few times in the bathroom to find myself waking up 3 hours later and wondering why in the world I was laying in the middle of the bathroom floor with a piece of glass beside me and seeing the cuts on my shoulders. At this time in my life, I felt very isolated from the rest of the world. I felt very alone and very afraid. It's as if I lost complete control of my life. When I walked away from arguments, my ex husband followed me and yelled at me. He knew the impact and effect his words had on me. Sadly, our fights we had were the only time he paid me any attention. His words made me mad and I lashed back out. I felt like a caged up animal that had nowhere to go but kept getting poked at so that I finally lashed out to defend myself. That is how I felt. It's like he got pleasure from seeing me hurt myself. He watched me tape myself cutting and would sit on the couch, not moving, just watched me as I lost control of my life. To him it was just a game. Several times, I foolishly took him back, believing his lies when he said this wasn't him and that he never meant to hurt me. He would say how much he hated his life, how he couldn't do anything right, and make me feel sorry for him so that I stayed. I now know that was just a trick of his he used so that I wouldn't tell anyone what was going on because he didn't want to get into any trouble. He listened to a conversation I had with my brother on the phone once, when I was sitting outside, and heard me tell my brother I was going to get a lawyer. I walked into the house and he confronted me about it. He threatened to turn over all the tapes he had where I cut myself and got mad at him. He even threatened me in front of one of my friends the day that I took all my things and went to stay with her.

I learned to hate the mirror. When I looked in the mirror, I would see my mom staring back at me. I saw someone ugly and worthless when I looked into that mirror I began to see that by staying with him, I was becoming just like my mom. She chose to stay with her abuser, but I was not going to make the same mistakes that she made. Instead, I was determined to learn from her mistakes and not repeat them. I hated the reflection I saw staring back because it showed me an image of the scared little girl I use to be who did not have the strength to just leave and get out. It showed me a reflection of a woman who was destined to be just like her mom if she did not find the strength and courage to break away.

That's when I found the strength and courage in me to change my reflection in the mirror. I decided that I was not going to be like my mom. It was not going to be like mother, like daughter with me. I figured that if I had the courage and strength at 17 to move out of my house when I didn't even have a set plan, then I could find that same strength and courage to leave my marriage and leave behind an abusive spouse who didn't even deserve me. I certainly didn't deserve to be emotionally, verbally, and physically abused by him all the time. He liked to use every excuse in the book about why we were getting divorced. You will never him say that it's because of the abuse he put me through. Of course not. Why would he own up to that? They never do. Instead, they make excuses and try to blame the victim who becomes a survivor when they leave. He even told his friends that he was getting a divorce because it just didn't work out. Well, I'm not going to sit here and lie about the reason for the divorce. The reason for it is because he abused me. I refuse to deny the truth and cover it up. It was not because we got married too young or anything like that.

Now that I am venturing out on my own, I have found the positive and beautiful that came out of all of this. The beautiful and positive is that I am finally seeing my dreams come true. Before, I never did anything I wanted to do. I never ventured out to make my dreams become reality. Now that I am free to pursue my dreams, I have a third book coming out in October, I started a magazine for victims and survivors that I always wanted to start, and I have a fun internet radio show that I enjoy doing where I have the chance to talk to other survivors out there who are making a difference. Although I still go through hard times, I'm starting to love life again and I'm beginning to love myself as well.

What do I see now when I look in the mirror? Well, it's not the reflection of a broken down, scared girl anymore. It is a reflection of a survivor who is healing, of a fighter who has fought my way to get this far, the face of a warrior on life's battlefield who is too stubborn and strong willed to allow anything to stop me from achieving my dreams. I see a reflection of someone who has learned from the past but now uses it to help others. The woman looking back at me through the glass is one who is strong, beautiful, and courageous; one who believes in herself and what she is doing. That is the reflection that I now see when I look into that mirror.

I know that I don't have to be like my mom. I just want to be me. No matter what life throws my way, I know I am not alone and never will be alone. I've chosen the path that is best for me in life and I will continue to pave the way for other survivors and I will continue to serve as a voice for those who have gone unheard. This is my time to make a difference, and my time to step up to reach out to those still trapped in silence. Leaving was the best thing I could have done for myself. Do I regret walking away for good? Absolutely not! I made the right choice and because I made that choice, I have the freedom to enjoy life and live it to the fullest.