Letting Go

Dear Friends,

I don’t know who wrote this. If you do, please let me know. I would like to thank the author. This is perfect for the new year. Let’s agree to let go.  

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.

She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the 'right' reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.

She didn't ask anyone for advice. She didn't read a book on how to let go... She didn't search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all of the memories that held her back. She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn't promise to let go. She didn't journal about it. She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn't analyze whether she should let go. She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn't do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn't call the prayer line. She didn't utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.

There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.

May this coming year bring you more joy and less worries that you expected. 

Hope/Hopelessness

In this season of hope, I think of how victims of DV live with both hopefulness and hopelessness. No one is more hopeful than a victim of abuse. It’s one of the main reasons victims stay, believing that their partner will change at any moment and everything will be okay. We have to think that way because our perception is that there is no way out of the relationship. Since he controls the relationship, we know that only he has the power to change things. 

It’s interesting that both hope and hopelessness can co-exist within us. In that twilight zone juncture, pondering “do I stay or do I leave,” these two emotions become all consuming. If we leave, hope keeps us questioning and doubting our decision. Having been taught not to trust our own judgement feeds into that dilemma. “But he can be so wonderful.” “If I hadn’t [insert partner’s favorite reason why you ruined things] everything would be okay.” Though we understand that our partner will always find fault with us, we continue to hope that we can be better, good enough. And, we hope that we can find the magic solution to heal/fix/cure our partner. When we face the fact that we cannot change anyone but ourselves, hopelessness overwhelms us.

Our partners promise to change. They cry, plead, and beg us to stay or return. If that doesn’t work, they pour on the guilt. They needs us, we’re taking their children from them, causing them to lose their job, ruining their reputations. (Notice nothing’s said about how they’ve destroyed our lives.) If that doesn’t work, it’s on to threats. They’ll kill themselves, us, the children, our families. All the time ramping up the pressure on us to stay or return. Worn and exhausted hopelessness sets in.

Some partners say that they hate what they are doing to us. That indicates that they know what they are doing is wrong and should not be repeated. Anyone who knows what they are doing can stop doing it -- if they really want to.

We beg God to change our partner. Since God has given mankind choice, God does not change anyone without his or her consent and cooperation, he or she has to do the work. That means an abuser has to take steps to stop the behavior. The first step -- go into batterer’s treatment. Second step -- do the work and complete the program. Third step -- do whatever is needed to stay on the right track. Any effort less than that means there will be no change.

Another thing we struggle with in this twilight zone, is that all the effort we’ve put into the relationship will be lost if we leave. “Wonder if he does change?” “Someone else will reap the benefits of my work and I’ll have to start over with someone else.” If he hasn’t gone into treatment serious about changing, he’s not going to change. His behavior isn’t about who we are, it’s about who they are. The victims are interchangeable. 

This is the season of hope. I know it can be hard to face the holidays when you're alone, recovering from abuse. Everything around you can remind you of lost dreams and hopes. Everything seems to reek of love and family closeness, sending you into a tailspin of hopelessness and depression. Suddenly you’re remembering the good times and discounting the bad ones. This is when you need to hold strong. If you haven’t made a list of what you love about him and what you’d change, now’s the time. Write down the truth of how you’ve been treated. If you stay or return all those bad behaviors will continue.

To get to a better life you will have to be uncomfortable for a time, just for a time. Let me assure you that you can have hope -- hope that your future will hold a better life for you and your children. The path is not easy, but hang in there. This Christmas celebrate how far you’ve come. Do your best to focus on the blessings in your life. Try to concentrate only on today and trust that the future will take care of itself. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, meet the challenges of each day and you will walk out of the darkness. All of us who have been there are standing with you, holding you in prayer. 

May the grace of this season touch your heart and peace surround you with it’s comforting and joyous glow. 

Independence Day

It’s Independence Day, though I haven’t thought about it this way in years, it’s the day I broke free from my abuser. 

Freedom. Is there anything more precious than freedom to those who don’t have it?

Freedom from the pain of living with someone who batters you with words and/or fists. Freedom from walking on eggshells every moment of every day. Freedom from trying to explain away his horrible behavior. Freedom from believing that everything that’s wrong is your fault. Freedom from the fear that this might be your last day on this earth. Freedom from waking up and wishing it had been.

Freedom. The word brings me to my knees with gratitude.

Holidays and Loneliness

Valentine’s day has come and gone. The talk on my Facebook page and in our groups has been about the yearning for ex-partners even though they were abusive. I’m not a therapist but I have been in a violent relationship, I understand. Most women realize that they are actually pining for the relationship they wished they’d had, not the man who abused them.

There’s nothing like a romantic or family holiday to make loneliness swell to overwhelming. And the b**** is, we know that if we return to him, the same old stuff will happen. If anything, we’ve learned about the cycle of abuse. The great honeymoon period, when he’s Mr. Wonderful and makes all kinds of promises designed to hook us back into the relationship. The tension period will always follow. He will begin to act surly and demanding (making us pay for his having to grovel to get us back) until it escalates into verbal or physical battering. We know this cycle will repeat itself, and the severity of the abuse will escalate with every incident. Too often the violence results in death for the victim.

When holidays come, the memories of the good times visit havoc on us. It’s hard to hold firm. That’s why it takes an average of 7 attempts to leave an abuser. How do you hold on?

I found it helped to have a friend I could call any time of the day or night. She’d meet me for coffee and she’d listen as I talked out my feelings. If I didn’t come around and realize that it was not in my best interest to go back, she’d gently remind me.

I had another revelation that helped me through that time and might help you. Most of us had a toy, blanket, something that we dragged around with us as a child. (Mine was a stuffed dog.) We couldn’t sleep without it tucked under our arms. We carried it most everywhere we went. If it was lost or misplaced we’d get hysterical, afraid that our precious toy was gone forever. 

Where is your toy today? Thrown away or tucked in a keepsake box? The point is that we no longer need it to sleep or keep us company because we’ve matured beyond that level. Let me assure you that the same thing will happen with this relationship. You will transcend this time and move on to a better life. One that fills you with joy. 

Will you have another relationship? That’s very possible. But for now, love and cherish yourself as you heal. Surround yourself with people who truly care about you. Know that when your anxious inner voice says, “no one else will ever love me.” It’s a lie that was planted by someone who thought that if he got you to believe that, you wouldn’t leave and find the happiness you deserve. 

Smile, you’ve just moved yourself up on the People Who Deserve Happiness List.

New Traditions

Traditions never seem more important than during a holiday season. There are symbols to embrace, special foods, and rituals for all faiths. Woven into those, are our personal family traditions. After divorce, those change. Sometimes, drastically.

I’m thinking about the first Christmas after I left the violence. It fell on my family of origin’s “off” year, the one when my siblings go to their in-laws and my parents, snowbirds, to the warmth of the southern states. Trying to ease my guilt over leaving my ex (why we feel guilty when we are trying to stop the cycle of abuse is beyond me) I allowed my children to go with him that first Christmas. This meant that on a family-oriented holiday, I would be - alone. 

I knew I’d feel relief that I didn’t have to spend the time in anguish, waiting for the big blowup that would decimate the night. The midnight service at my new church was a given, a personal tradition. But there were many hours to fill before the service started. How would I like to spend that time? That was a hard question since I hadn’t acknowledged my own likes and dislikes in many years. I needed some new Christmas Eve traditions.

After my children left with their father, I set about creating my evening, starting with a trip to the grocery store for a steak to broil and a potato to bake. Christmas music on the radio accompanied me as I prepared a delicious meal that I ate at a lovely place setting with my best china and crystal. As I sipped a glass of wine and enjoyed my dinner, I felt at peace. Gratefulness filled me, and I began thanking God for guiding me and being with me through all the pain and struggle. My kids and I were living without a lot, but you can’t put a dollar amount on how it feels to come home to a safe place where you can be who you are, say how you feel, and know, no matter what, you are loved.

After dinner, I watched my favorite Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey learns the truth that every life matters. As someone who’d been told she was worthless, this movie deeply touched me.

That week we received 36 inches of snow. “The most we’ve seen in years,” the forecasters said. But it was beautiful. White and blue diamonds glistened in the moonlight. My breath crystallized in the air so cold it stung my nostrils as I trotted out to my very frosty car and started her up.

I love Christmas Eve late-night services, the church filled with music, poinsettias, and candles. The story of hope and promise unfolded, and I felt awe once again. As I tipped my candle to accept the flame from my neighbor, I remembered my favorite Christmas image. My children at 4 and 6 years old, each clutching a candle. So proud to be allowed to hold one. Their faces bathed in the soft light as we lifted glowing candles against the darkness and sang Silent Night. The memory-filled me with joy.

When the service ended, church members called Merry Christmas to each other as we drifted into the cold, star-covered morning. I drove home, still wrapped in the warmth of Christmas carols and the promise of hope for the future. 

That Christmas Eve was a blessing and remains a fond memory.