Freedom Comes To An Open Heart

So much has been written about abuse it’s a wonder there is anything left to be said.  Yet, as each victim frees themselves from the bonds that have held them captive, their story needs to be told. 
They need to share their liberation because there is power in the telling.  There is wisdom to be gained and strength to be harnessed to empower those still being bound by this destructive social disease.

This is my telling, where my abuse ends.

I was raised in an environment where my opinions were never honored, my thoughts not respected, my feelings a punishable offense.  I was raised to believe that because I cried easily, and was unhappy, there was something wrong with me.  I was a problem.  I was told that if I couldn’t be happy to go away where no one had to be around me.  My feelings were stupid, unnecessary and unjustified.  For too long I have believed this to be true, weighed down by the burden of trying to deny and squelch that which is me.

I am strong now. I have gained clarity.  I know my gifts.  I know my value.  I will not go back to that time when I had no voice, when I mattered so little, when I worked so hard to deny my very essence.

The turning point came just recently, when I had to spend 4 days with my father, my abuser,  under very difficult circumstances.  I was constantly yelled at, criticized, challenged and corrected.  Although I cried frequently, in the face of these attacks, I was not hurt, or angry, just emotionally overwhelmed.  Something within me had truly changed.  I was amazed at this shift in energy.  With my new found strength, this man, my father, who had held so much power over me, for so long, had somehow been rendered impotent.  As though watching a movie, I observed ‘the villain’  behave abominably toward the supporting actress, treating her with utter disrespect and disregard, badgering and insulting with a mind numbing constancy.  But, somehow, it wasn’t happening to me.   Because, although I was exhausted from this never ending barrage, my confidence in myself never wavered, the knowledge that I was good enough never wained. I was tired. But, I was fine.

Twice, upon seeing my tears (of which I have no control) my father, said “Don’t get so upset.  You know I don’t mean anything...it’s just the way I talk.”  For the first time in my life I was able to say out loud the words that I have said a million times to myself.  In a voice that never wavered, and with a look of such determination in my eyes, I faced my Father and said ‘These are my feelings.  They are what I feel.  I can’t change what I feel.’  He stopped, confused and angered.  Who was I to make this claim?  What right did I have to challenge his words?

In my family, we have always described my Dad as difficult, which he most certainly is.  But, I have never referred to my Father as abusive.  I didn’t want to have an abusive father.  I didn’t want to think of myself as a victim, or abused.  I see now that my healing will never be complete until I acknowledge the truth of my situation.  I had to come to this place in my journey with a calm, open, forgiving heart.  My father is an abuser.  I was abused.  This is my story.  It is the reality of my childhood.  

I have moved to a place that I hold no anger, or hurt.  I have freed my spirit knowing I will not be abused anymore.

Now, I am a warrior.  I am brave and strong, strong enough to look my attacker in the eye and see him for what he is, an unhappy, angry man. I will not flinch.  I will show no weakness.  He has revealed himself with his request and there is no turning back.  It all makes sense now.  By telling me, for years, ‘Don’t get upset.  You know I don’t mean anything.  It’s just the way I talk.‘   (What a ridiculous phrase! ) I see now what he really meant was ‘It is upsetting to me to see how much I hurt you.  I don’t want to see myself as a man that makes his daughter cry.  I’m angry at you for forcing me see this truth about myself.  STOP IT!’

But, these are my feelings.  They are what I feel.  I can’t go back, don’t want to go back to a time that I took responsibility for his bad behavior, to a time when I believed I was causing the problem, causing his upset.  I must stand firm knowing there is worse to come.  It will get uglier because he is used to getting his way.  He will come at me again, louder and more frightening, threatening awful things.  I am strong in my convictions.  I will not live in fear of his displeasure for 1 more day.  He no longer owns my heart.  I do.  And, I love myself too much to be his victim any longer.