Mulling over a meme on a friend’s facebook page this morning, I started to realize that the abuse that so many women endure, may never actually come to an end. Ever.
“As we got ready to go to a movie one evening, I checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Hair looked good, make-up done. I was wearing a brown and beige houndstooth blazer over a brown top, and blue jeans. Nothing fancy, but dressy enough for a night out,” she told me. “When he saw me, he told me I needed to change. He wouldn’t explain why, just demanded that I change. I looked fine– I wasn’t going to change my clothes. We argued about it briefly, before he reached out and grabbed the lapels on the blazer, pushing it down over my arms. I struggled to keep the coat on, and he pushed me to the floor, getting his hands under the brown top, he worked it up over my head as I tried pushing him away. He got up, went to the dresser, and pulled out a pair of worn out, black stretch pants, and a homemade, green sweater I had bought at Goodwill, but had never worn outside of the house. He tossed them on the bed, and said ‘Put these on, or we’re not going.’ Still in shock, I put on the ratty old clothes. That was the first real major incident of abuse after we were married.”
The meme on my friend’s page featured a quote from Rick Warren about ministry. It was about two years ago that I realized that yes, a blog about fitness could actually be a ministry as well. That’s when I came up with my fit four: Fitness… Food… Faith… and Freedom from Abuse. Because fitness needs to be more than just physical– none of us are just physical beings. We also need to pay attention to our spiritual fitness, and our mental and emotional fitness. I can claim to be a Not-So-Fit Girl in all three realms. These are the cornerstones of my ministry, the focus of my blog.
About a year ago, I had the opportunity to talk to a class of media students about my career as a broadcaster, about the broken path that had led me to where I was. Part of that path includes a 15-year period where I was “forbidden” to have any connection to the world of broadcasting. And yes, I put “forbidden” in quotes because that is the actual word that was used when I had an opportunity to volunteer to read periodicals to the visually impaired on a public radio station.
One of the students had asked how I manage to read news stories without getting emotional? It’s not an uncommon question. As reporters, we are exposed to some devastating insights into the dark hearts of our fellow man. There are details of police reports that will never make it on the air, because I could never bring myself to say the words out loud. But, I also have PTSD. And in my personal and professional life, I compartmentalize my feelings, detach myself from them to survive. That doesn’t mean that I’m unfeeling. When I’m in a state of mind to deal with the sadness of this world, I will allow myself to deal with it. When my kids come to me with a burden, I feel the pain they share, and I try to help them navigate through their own feelings and emotions.
As my talk in front of that classroom full of aspiring media professionals came to a close, one girl walked up to me, tears in her eyes, and said she had also been a victim of domestic abuse. Hearing my story and seeing my success in spite of what I had been through, had given her hope. She had found healing in my scars.
When it comes to working through my own feelings and emotions– I write. I’m a communicator– I’ve always been a communicator. The challenge is that in order to help others heal, in order to share the story of my healing, I have to talk about some painfully dark periods of my life– years that were spent with another person, who would prefer that they not be associated with the ugliness and abuse they perpetrated. And so, my story– MY HISTORY– is censored, to make them more comfortable with themselves, so they can move on with their life unfettered by the past.
I don’t know how to both move forward with the ministry of helping other women, creating a platform to break the silence of domestic abuse, while also keeping silent about that abuse in order to help an abuser shield their actions from public view. It’s hypocritical, is it not?
As I was thinking about this dichotomy this morning, I realized that the abuse hasn’t really ended. See, this is where people’s perception of abuse is challenged– abuse is not just physical. Yes, there is physical abuse in relationships, but physical violence is not the only form of abuse. There is also mental and emotional abuse, sexual abuse, verbal abuse, financial abuse, and religious abuse. All abuse boils down to one single concept: control. The abuser does everything in their power to prevent the victim from having control over their thoughts, feelings, and opinions, over their own body, over their finances, and sometimes they’ll use religion to justify their controlling behavior. Look at the scenario of the woman who’s partner forced her to change her clothes. He didn’t cause her any real physical harm, but caused her to question her judgement when it came to picking out clothes, to question her looks, and she learned that her partner would get his way by force if necessary.
My actions are still being controlled by another person. It’s no different than that man wrestling his victim to the floor and physically pulling clothes off of her. My voice is being silenced. Therein lies the reality that the abuse never really ends, because the demand for control never actually goes away.
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