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Women and Lies
March 7, 2008 - 9:40am — Lenelle Moïse
One of my grandaunts married her rapist. She was a teenager in Haiti and a virgin before the assault. As he shoved himself inside of her, the soon-to-be fiancé hissed hotly in my grandaunt’s ear: "I am ruining you now." Her parents agreed with him and, in an effort to preserve the family’s honor, gave their blessings for a small, Christian wedding. A longtime Seventh Day Adventist, my grandaunt was determined to be an attentive, faithful, and obedient wife. Despite the cruel circumstances surrounding their “courtship,” she believed that if she remained subservient to her husband, God would reward her in the afterlife. She cleaned her assailant’s house, raised his children, and cooked without poisons for him until he died of old age. I wonder if during all those years together they ever actually made love. Did he rape her every time? I wonder if, when he finally died, she secretly praised God for answering an adolescent prayer.
When I was a sophomore in college, I watched my grandfather loosen my grandmother’s teeth with a loud, vicious slap across her shocked, aging face. She had dared to forget that she was not his dog and disagreed with him in front of houseguests. My arms went up in the air like someone under arrest as my grandmother quietly left the room to cry or pray or curse. I yelled at my grandfather but didn’t know what else to do. I feared that if I reached for the phone, he would slap me, too. I also worried that the police officers that showed up might be white and might mistreat him, not because he had hit his wife, but because he was black and an immigrant. I wonder what my grandmother’s thoughts are when, decade after decade, they celebrate their anniversary. Does she commemorate their longstanding commitment and love or her own stubborn threshold for pain?
When I was 14, my stepfather ended an argument about money by punching my mother in her pregnant belly. I immediately dialed 911. My mother was seven months along. After the blow, the baby stopped moving. She was rushed to the emergency room while a cop with a thick, Bostonian accent angrily recited the Miranda Rights to my immigrant stepfather who could not understand one word.
A short week later, the unborn baby was fine and my mother asked me to escort her to the courthouse. She wanted to formally drop the charges against my stepfather and claimed to need my support. When I refused, she cried, “You have to. I feel bad for him sitting in that jail all alone. He doesn’t speak English. People could be hurting him.”
“He should have thought of that before he hit you,” I told her.
“You’re right,” she said gently. “What he did was wrong. But two wrongs don’t make a right. We have to do the right thing. We have to forgive him.”
She went on to quote Jesus (“Turn the other cheek.”) and, back then, I was easily manipulated by the citation of Biblical verses. I gave in. I held my mother’s swollen hand as she stood before a bespectacled black woman judge and lied. She insisted that she had provoked my stepfather, that his violent reaction was an uncharacteristic mistake, that he was the love of her life and that she needed him.
The judge was visibly annoyed. She had probably heard similar speeches from hundreds of battered women before. She pointed her chin at me and asked, “Do you support your mother’s decision?”
“I support my mother,” I said. But that was a lie. In fact, I was embarrassed. I thought my mother’s forgiveness was foolish, not noble. I didn't want the judge to imagine me following in these weak footsteps.
My stepfather was released and, predictably, continued to abuse my mother. They were together for 13 years.
So, today I am remembering all of this and wondering: Why do women do this? Why do we bite our tongues or speak in defense of the criminals we manage to love?
Whether we are queer or straight, many of us allow ourselves to suffer daily acts of violence and violation at the hands of our broken fathers, brothers, sons, presidents, and the women who emulate them. We forgive brutality, excuse destruction and, with the strong stance of our silence, espouse imperialism. We do this in the name of marriage, motherhood, God, community, and country. But why?
It is a tragic mistake to convince ourselves that if we do not protect our most intimate oppressors, no one else will. Abusers do not return kind favors. We must not let ourselves die trying to save them.
When I was a sophomore in college, I watched my grandfather loosen my grandmother’s teeth with a loud, vicious slap across her shocked, aging face. She had dared to forget that she was not his dog and disagreed with him in front of houseguests. My arms went up in the air like someone under arrest as my grandmother quietly left the room to cry or pray or curse. I yelled at my grandfather but didn’t know what else to do. I feared that if I reached for the phone, he would slap me, too. I also worried that the police officers that showed up might be white and might mistreat him, not because he had hit his wife, but because he was black and an immigrant. I wonder what my grandmother’s thoughts are when, decade after decade, they celebrate their anniversary. Does she commemorate their longstanding commitment and love or her own stubborn threshold for pain?
When I was 14, my stepfather ended an argument about money by punching my mother in her pregnant belly. I immediately dialed 911. My mother was seven months along. After the blow, the baby stopped moving. She was rushed to the emergency room while a cop with a thick, Bostonian accent angrily recited the Miranda Rights to my immigrant stepfather who could not understand one word.
A short week later, the unborn baby was fine and my mother asked me to escort her to the courthouse. She wanted to formally drop the charges against my stepfather and claimed to need my support. When I refused, she cried, “You have to. I feel bad for him sitting in that jail all alone. He doesn’t speak English. People could be hurting him.”
“He should have thought of that before he hit you,” I told her.
“You’re right,” she said gently. “What he did was wrong. But two wrongs don’t make a right. We have to do the right thing. We have to forgive him.”
She went on to quote Jesus (“Turn the other cheek.”) and, back then, I was easily manipulated by the citation of Biblical verses. I gave in. I held my mother’s swollen hand as she stood before a bespectacled black woman judge and lied. She insisted that she had provoked my stepfather, that his violent reaction was an uncharacteristic mistake, that he was the love of her life and that she needed him.
The judge was visibly annoyed. She had probably heard similar speeches from hundreds of battered women before. She pointed her chin at me and asked, “Do you support your mother’s decision?”
“I support my mother,” I said. But that was a lie. In fact, I was embarrassed. I thought my mother’s forgiveness was foolish, not noble. I didn't want the judge to imagine me following in these weak footsteps.
My stepfather was released and, predictably, continued to abuse my mother. They were together for 13 years.
So, today I am remembering all of this and wondering: Why do women do this? Why do we bite our tongues or speak in defense of the criminals we manage to love?
Whether we are queer or straight, many of us allow ourselves to suffer daily acts of violence and violation at the hands of our broken fathers, brothers, sons, presidents, and the women who emulate them. We forgive brutality, excuse destruction and, with the strong stance of our silence, espouse imperialism. We do this in the name of marriage, motherhood, God, community, and country. But why?
It is a tragic mistake to convince ourselves that if we do not protect our most intimate oppressors, no one else will. Abusers do not return kind favors. We must not let ourselves die trying to save them.
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35 Comments
Your story touched my heart
My father was and is a drug addict and alcoholic abuser. He was abusive in so many different ways. Every child deals with the abuse in thier own way. Some tell...like one of my sisters...some don't and some forget it ever happened...like me. I remember my father telling my sister and me to go to bed. I was 8 she was 1. On the way we did the typical hug, sugar, goodnights. It still makes me want to vomit and it makes my heart cringe when I think about "how" he kissed me goodnight that night. I took my sister and locked us in my room that night. When I was 13 he married a wonderful woman who I am proud to call my mom. He abused her daughter too. She told when she was about 10 but by that time it had been going on for 5 years. We all left him. She went back. I still do not understand it. Time went on and he never touched her again. The relationship between them turned violent. One weekend he was taking my 2 sisters and my brother camping. One of my sisters said he was acting funny and called me to come get her. I let her stay with me and asked the other one to stay with us. She didn't. I woke up with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach at 6:30 the next morning. At 7 my mom called. I needed to come to the house and take my sister to find the gun. Yep the gun. He took them camping got high and drunk and followed her in the camper and tried to rape her. Smart little chick that she is she had a gun. She missed his head by an inch. It scared him enough to move and she had to fight her way to the door. My brother came at him with another gun. Needless to say they got out. The bastard tried to claim my sister was trying to run away and he was trying to stop her.
My father does not see my two kids and never will. He has a total of 9 grandkids between all of us and he has ruined any chance of being in thier lives. He is now divorced and all alone drinking himself to death and doing drugs. Which is right where he needs to be ALONE.
Castration is not good enough for these people. My 1st step-mom was physically abusive. I have a nervous problem still. If anyone gets mad I get paranoid and my stomach knots up. It is a cycle. Her father beat her....she beat us....it ends there. If I ever find out anyone is mesing with my kids I know where to hide a body. I don't trust many people with my kids.
Thank you for sharing....I know how hard it is.
Not as Bad...but i regret it!!
I went through somewhat of an abusive relationsip,although more phsycological than anything.My girlfriend and i met at school, i was 16 and she was 17,I never really did like her, I just had a really bad crush on her best friend's girlfiend, as bad as it sounds. But we fooled around a couple of times and she took it seriously, now I'm bi and I did have boyfriends before her, so i wasnt too sure about getting seriously involved with her...but in a matter of weeks she asked me to be her girlfriend and I, being so stupid at 16, said yes.BIG MISTAKE!!! WORSE OF MY LIFE. After a couple of days into the "relationship" I knew she wasn't right for me, so I decided to end it. OMG she nearly cried herself to death...I should've known then that she was bad news,I mean really who gets attached that fast??? A MANIAC!!!!THAT'S WHO!! We remained friends, and after a couple of days after the beakup she told me she needed another chance, that she was gonna die if she didn't get one, she threaten to kill herself, I gave in. Like I said I never really liked her, I though she was unattractive. I cheated on her before our first month anniversary with her best friend'sGF, and I'm not a cheater,but in this relationship I was one, I had to find a way to escape. She found out and I said "I think it's best if we break up, I think I did it because this relationship is not right" her response.."I dont think I can ever leave you, I love you"...AFTER 1 MONTH!!!I LOVE YOU?!!! I did not say it back...but we stayed together
She would manipulate me making me feel bad because according to her,her dad was abusive, I met him, he was never that way, he was just strict. No beating or yelling ever took place at their house...I would know because I was always there, and got to talk to the sister,brother and mom and later the dad.
Later about six moths into the relationship, I cheated again with a mutual friend,when I told her she said "I saw it coming,are you sorry?" I was truthful i said "yea..noone deserves to be treated like that".. She took that as begging for forgiveness and told me the same thing she said the first time. A couple of months later she cheated on me, and I saw an apportunity there to leave...my ego was extremely hurt, but not my heart, so I pretended to care. I got mad and demanded that she leave me alone...she said she would kill herlself if i left her.She was sorry. I honestly know that i would not be able to live in peace if i knew someone had taken their life because of me.I stayed. SHe cheated on me again...same thing happened..I never cheated again, even though i wanted to...i just firmly believe that once i really love I dont want my partener to do that to me. But slowly she started with her jelousy, I could not go out without her, she was was backpack,always attached to me!!!I hated her!!I met other women who i really liked, so the only thing left to do, was fantasize about them. I lost my friends slowly,since she thought that i was cheating on her with everyone,and i mean literally. She would make a scene out of everything.
I used to live with my grandparents who did not know i also lked girls, but had to move out to live closer to school. THIS IS WHERE IT GT WORSE. I got an apatment, which my parents paid for, they lived in another country. They paid for all my expenses, but I had a set amount of $$$ each month to spend.Somehow one day without even telling me she moved into my apartment, claiming that her dad had beaten her, and that her friends helped her get everything out. I didn't want her there...Iwas starting to gain my freedom back,and I advised her to go back, but she would not listen. I slept very little those 4 months. I reached a point where I could not stand her touch, I did not want to have intimacy with her(although this happened way before,living together just made her realize it), I wanted nothing to do with her.she was a parasite, she lived off my parents and she never tried to get a job,although she did "love me" HAHAHA I dont think you can live off that.every night we fought, over me not wanting to have sex, over her hallucinating, over me going to school!!!everynight she left the apartment at 2 or 3 in the morning, and wanted to walk god know where..in the unsafe streets of mexico!!!I cried so many times, out of frustration, I did not sleep anymore, I could not go to school, it was HELL. Her parents called my parents to tell them she was living with me, all hell broke loose.My parents didnt know i was bi and they hated her, because she was a parasite. My parents,hers and us sat down. My lunatic gf made it seem that this was so serious that my mom offered to move us both to live with them to another country!!!WTF noone ever asked my opinion, even though i tried telling them that I wanted to get away from there without her, she led them to believe that we were so in love and blah blah blah, my parents were so mad they would not let me talk. We finally moved, and my parents bought me a car, but she decided that since she had to be at work in the morning,she would drive me to school, and then take the car to work.WHATEVER I AGREED...i got a part-time job, and the fighting started again. You're never home...who are flirting with at work...you're probably cheating on me at school..every single second accussations.
I reconnected with and old friend(and crush) through messenger, and talked to her when i could. well psycho gf went through my personal files, to find the copies of all our convesartions,since my computer saves all conversations she read all the other ones as well. Then questioned me about why nobody knew she moved in with me "Because I dont want them to know, because I want to be single and break up with you, I am ashamed of being with you" was my response...she shrugged it off and walked back into our room. I could not believe she had gone through my personal computer...this did not stop here.She was a total hypocrite,she talked shit about my parents and sis behind their backs and then smiled to their face..BITCH...i hated her even more.
I started woking somewhere else, and made a buch of friends,but still could not hang out with them cause of my own personal psycho *(OPS)..I met this guy at work who i really liked, and we would text, and call each other. nothing ever happened he had a gf and so did I LOL...he did not know. She could not go through my phone cause i always had it with me, so she went through my phone bill to find it!!!!THIS WAS THE MILLIONTH WARNING SING, but i did not do anything about it, because i did not know until later on.The fights and the jelousy got worse. One saturday before work, I got sick of aguing all the time, the badmouthing my family,the blackmailing,everything!!! In the middle of an argument i told her i wanted her i wanted her out of my house, out of my life, that i thought she was a psychopath, and that i hated her, never ever loved her. I was about to go for the door, when she stepped in my way. she grabbed my wrist and threw me on the bed. she said i would never leave her..i managed to get up again and when she pushed me, I dunno how and i swear im not aggressive,I hate abuse since I was beaten a lot when little, anyway..i slapped her. she grabbed me again and bit me and punched me....i got up again and told her that if she dared touch me again i would call the cops.that this time i was done with her. We sat down with my parents that same day, and i tried explaining how abusive the relationship was, but since she was the only one crying they did not believe me she was capable of that. she moved down to the basement,because my parents felt they had to help her. FLASHBACK to her getting my friends numbers off my phone bill....she started calling them and asking if i was messing around with them!!!! I have nothing left to say for an act so low...DO YOU??....she would get drunk downstairs and call them multiple times a night and then call me to tell me she was gonna kill herself...once i put my phone on speaker, and my parents heard everything...then they believed me...A week after i was finally freed, i went out with my friends, but she would not let me take my car, and she thought that since it was late, my parents would not let me borrow one of theirs....they DID haha...I went over to my crush's house (from work) and just hung out with my friends and no backpack....life felt good...i cannot explain how happy and liberated i felt...although she still tried calling and textin...i turned my phone off.
I was on my way back home @ 3 am...i got home and noticed my car was not in our driveway, i tried cal my EX and she didnt pick up, i didn make a big deal out of it. 2 hours later she called me to tell me she had crashed..she was drunk.My parents came with me,we could not find her because she was so drunk she did not know where she was.SHe must have followed me somewhat of the way since she was like 10min away from my friends house. CREEPY!! She moved out shortly after that...I changed my cell # and she still maanged to get and call and text me that she was still in love with me, my response "I dont fucking care...I hate you...leave me a alone...You're pathetic!!" and hang up...To this day she still calls some of my friends when drunk but i manage to come up with a descent explanation.
PLEASE IF U EVER FIND YOURSELF BORED ENOUGH TO READ THIS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK
wow. i can't believe you
wow. i can't believe you put up with all of that - let that be a lesson to anyone who gets with someone only to get with someone else............ it never works out. to think how differently your life could have panned out!
interesting read, thanks for that!
The silence.....
Lenelle~Thank you.
It is so difficult to be so honest about a subject which is still swept under the blanket and I thank you for starting a conversation about this. I am a survivor of child sexual abuse and for years kept silent. CSA happens at an alarmingly high rate to both females and males. Most cases go unreported. There are many reasons why there is silence - For me, when it first started I was only 5 and I believed every word that was said to me. Why shouldn't I believe the man who was suppose to be my father figrue in my life? I was told I was "special", loved that I was special ,believed that I was special and to be given extra attention over my sisters was extra special to me. Eventually the story line changed from it being our special time to 'if anyone finds out about this, they will leave you. No one likes not being the favorite'. So, fear slowly started to shape my life. The "leaving" turned to "if you say anything, your mom will leave and die". This went on for years and I was conditioned to fear. Even when I was old enough to know what was happening was not right, I instantly slipped into being deathly afraid of what would happen if I told. I was petrified to hurt my family, I was petrified to be alone. I really thought my mom and sisters would leave, would die - the innocence of childhood was completely lost with the bruden of feeling like I had to protect my older sisters and mom from harm by allowing my abuser to have his way. Year after year I lived like this.
When it did finally become known, I was 19. And I am one of the lucky ones because I was believed by my mother and that goes against the statistics. However, just because the sex abuse ended and it was known, did not end the hell for me. In many ways, the abuse continued but in different forms. I treated myself like shit because I thought I was shit. I didn't recongize how deeply this affected me because I muted the pain by drinking and partying too much. I compensated for the shame, self hatred and guilt by being very outgoing so no one would see the sadness that ran my life. I bounced from relationship to relationship not understanding why they were all screwed up - why I ran away from love when it shown to me - why I couldn't handle good, healthy relationships. I lived in denial for the longest of times. I thought since it was 'known', I was OK, but I never addressed what happened and continued to allow the abuse to run and ruin my life. I could "robotically" speak about my abuse, not to help myself, but if it helped someone else. Let them know that I understand their pain, without telling them that I hadn't even remotely addressed my own pain.
The longer the silence lasted, the more conrete my negative thoughts became and the reality of being told over and over that I was bad, unwanted, unloved, a shit...became a self fulfilling prophecy. In my head I was all of those things and believed it whole heartedly. When my mom found out, the look on her face it forever etched in my mind. She tried to be so strong for me, but the pain was evident. In my mind, I caused that pain. In my mind, I equated talking about this to causing immeasurable pain for someone else, so I took the pain on by myself.
As I started to approach my 30's, living this 'false' life started to catch up to me. I knew I was starting to lose the only control I felt I ever had and it scared the shit out of me. My whole childhood was controlled by someone else and even though I didn't want to admit it, that control stil exisited into adulthood. It affected every relationship I had - with friends, with partners, with myself. Then I hit the wall. I had a moment of such clarity, of such a harsh realization that I truly felt in that moment I had 1 of 2 choices - I either get help or live a very lonely life/die alone. I chose help. I chose me. I chose to give myself a chance.
Finally at the age of 30, I really broke my silence. I told my closest friends about my abuse. I expected them to leave me, to see me as the disgusting piece of shit I saw myself as, but instead they embraced me, supported me and helped me see the qualities they always saw in me. I went into therapy and did whatever I needed to do to give myself a chance at life. It was a lot of work. A lot of tears. A lot of shame. A lot of hatred. A lot of self forgiveness. It was honestly hell for a period of time. I questioned whether it was actually better to live in my warped, muted, affected world over having to feel the pain and sadness of so much that I had lost, to take the chance to trust and to learn to love myself. This life is much better than the life I was living and leading. I can genuinely laugh, I can trust, I can love, I can feel and it is OK to have happiness in my life.
Silence was my own worst enemy. Silence is what abusers and perpetrators thrive on. They are master manipulators and by keeping silent, it continues. Over the past few years, I have been fortunate to have met some amazing outspoken advocates who are working their hardest to raise awareness to this epidemic. Whether or not you may realize it, you most likely know someone who has been assualted, raped, violated, abused whether it be sexually, mentally, emotionally or phsyically. And that is such a sad statement. Too many people. What is worse, is the silence that permeates our culture - these topics are still taboo. It is not easy to speak about these horrors, but to allow the horrors to continue is much worse.
If you are a survivor, realize that you are not alone. Understand that you can be loved. That you are a good person. Speak out. To someone. Do not keep this pain to yourself. It took me a long tme to realize that this 'nobody' was actually a strong someobdy with alot to offer others. The journey to find myself...the journey which I feel is ever evolving and ever growing is so worth it. Find that light inside of you and embrace it.
oh my God
i hate how men make strong women weak.
Have strength
I'd like to praise you for raising this issue within your blog and doing so in such a personal way. I hope and can see that it has encouraged others to open up. Even those who haven't written, are or can be encouraged by other posts. I hope it will perhaps make them assess their values, opinions or even own situations and go about making a change. An extremely positive one.
For anyone who is in a situation where they are being manipulated or abused I will say this. Tell someone. Open your mouth and let the words come out. Fear is a great silencer. But once you have learnt to overcome it, once you take that step forward, that leap in the dark, SO much good will come of it. I know it may seem daunting. But when you do start talking, you'll wonder why you didn't do so sooner. Life is simply to short to shut up and take what's coming to you. Be strong-Speak Up. Feel the fear and do it anyway.
I respect, admire and empathise with all those who have found life has taken an unexpected turn.
xxx
www.myspace.com/loveshtoned
www.lezbang.com
Moise! wow lady, thanks for
Moise! wow lady, thanks for writing these hard words. hard to read, hard to imagine.
It takes great courage and great heart to allievate the suffering of so many generations.
thank you for makeing art out of pain.
I just added a blog on my
I just added a blog on my page, about silence. How much it gives growth to terrible things and how much shit that still goes on because of it.
I live in Stockholm (The stockholm syndrome) and I know about that story.
It was a bank robbery, and the hostages began to protect the robberers after a certain time together with them.
Maybe it's some kind of crappy loyalty that kicks in?
I don't know.
All I know is that I'll never just shut my mouth. I'm to angry and provoced for that.
Peace!
abuse
In our culture the man is king and the wife obeys. My dad never hit my mom, but he treated her like an shit. My mother never stood up against him. People tend to overlook mental abuse, but I feel that it is as harmful as physical abuse. My dad also had a hot temper and mentally abused my sister, brother, and me. He was a Vietnam War veteran and instilled fear in his children and wife. On one occasion, he beat my sister while my mom and I were out. My mom reacted by being numb. She knew what my dad did was wrong, but she sided with him.
There were many other times when he was a kind person, and it confused me. To this day I have very mixed feelings towards my dad. Even though I hated my dad, I was more harder on my mom. I couldnt understand why she put up with it. My mom was an immigrant woman with no education and could barely speak English, yet she worked more than my dad and ran her own business. I always viewed her as a strong woman, but when it came to my dad she had no power.
People who abuse women and children are the lowest of low. They are cowards, and if I ran the country I'd castrate them. Abused people on the other hand need to wake the f*ck up and make steps toward changing their situation.
I don't know if I should really say all of this to strangers.
I don't know if I should really say all of this to strangers, but I don't know, I feel like maybe it might shine a light on a subject that most people don't even know exist. Violence in lesbian relationships. Sometimes people stay in these relationships that they didn't even want to be in in the first place, and have no idea how it happened or why they are still there. I personally do not believe in any kind of violence ever. So it was very shocking for me when about eight months into my first serious relationship which was not in a good place to start with, took a turn into that area. I knew she was crazy, she was constantly acusing me of cheating (which I later discovered that she had been cheating since day one), but I never expected what happened. I was still in high school, she ask me over to help her paint her bedroom, and all of a sudden she started saying that I was sleeping with some guy, then she smacked me across the face with the paint roller. I tried to leave and she blocked the door and grabbed a knife which aparently she kept under her bed and threaten to kill herself or me if I left. Incidences like this got more frequent and went on for about two more years, until I finally realized, what am I doing here. It's not like I really love her. I have never loved her. I have never even really liked her. I could never bring myself to hit her back even though I was stronger than her. Until one day I had just had enough. I hit her back, which is not me, I don't hit anyone. She was in shock and it gave me enough time to get to my car. As I was pulling out of the driveway she punched and shattered my windshield. I left all of my stuff. She stalked me for sometime, threatened my family. Now, three years later, I live halfway across the country, and try to figure out why I subjected myself to this. Because you know what, I was just as much at fault for letting this happen, for letting her manipulate me, for not fighting back, for not leaving.
Trickle Down
I am so glad you got out of that situation and that you are alive to share your story of survival with all of us. I agree with a lot of the comments: the abuse isn't just coming from men. Our culture, at large, is violent and power-hungry. Regardless of gender, those values can trickle down and affect our intimate lives. What steps can we take—as individuals and as a community—to heal and change and feel safe in our minds and bodies?
I think you can see signs of
I think you can see signs of this early in meeting these women. Anger seems to be a comfortable place for them,since they spend so much time there.
In my case she was a exbodybuilder who was still lifting,so she had the muscle mass and power to cause alot of damage if she actually lost control of that ballistic rage of hers.As soon as that became a real possibility I was out.
Its a very real problem. and
Its a very real problem. and often we are afraid to share--thanks for having the courage.
yea! i know a few lesbian
yea! i know a few lesbian couples who had this problems ! it's not only between men and women !
a girl i know lived the same thing you just described, it lasted two years , and just like your ex , her abuser accused her of cheating when actually she was the one who cheated , and she was cheating with ... her girlfriend's friends men and women , and in her girlfriends appartment , in her girlfriend's bed!
it seems like very often , the abuser accuse the victim of their own faults, they feel guilty so they accuse YOU before you accuse THEM : attack is the better defense!
Sa ki la pou'w dlo pa ka chayé'y
I wonder something...
I think that when you are a victim of strong violence, perhaps you just try to keep for yourself the "star of kindness and respect", trying to squeeze it so much that you forget that in front of you, you have a sick person who absolutely don't react the same way as you.
So, as you want respect for yourself, you try to show the other one respect and so, you let him acting violently.
In fact, you go out of it when you realize that the other one doesn't see you because of blindness, madness.
So, you are not guilty because you tried to show something to a blind person. You just had to realize that this person was blind, and escape from her.
With mad people, you can't act as you do for yourself, they don't ask for it. The best thing to do is the leave them alone without trying to heal them.
That's what you did.
why they accept all this
why they accept all this things ?very good question! i tried to find the answer many times, but i just can't think of a " good reason " to accept so much suffering .
a girl i know was raped by her father when she came out , to " teach her to love men " . She still see her father, they pretend everything is normal ...
Sa ki la pou'w dlo pa ka chayé'y
It takes guts
This is the most important post I have ever read on this site. It took guts on the author's part to talk so openly about her family's personal experiences. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us.
The person who mentioned Battered Women's Syndrome was right on the money. There is no one easy answer as to why women stay with abusive partners. But I believe a large part of the reason is because the abuser kills their victims' self-esteem.
If anyone here is in an abusive relationship, whether physical or emotional, remember, it isn't your fault. The person who is abusing you is a sick person and you need to free yourself from that sickness and allow yourself to live. You deserve it. You really do it.
I really don't want to comment
Because it hits to close to home.Hope your blog helps ppl.
Love shouldn't have to hurt
This is for all victims of abuse at the hands of some that is suppose to love you and not hurt you.
Love is blind... It will take over your mind...what you think is love it's truly not ... you need to elevate and find... by Eve
This means you need to find the love within as well as love yourself to know you are so much better off without the abuser, and be strong to walk, run, and stay away. Love is a wonderful thing and should not be painful nor hurt. In high school I will always remember Cherie Johnson, a teenage girl (victim) who died at the hands of her abusive boyfriend, who was in his twenties. We were 16 y.o. and I would always beg her to leave him... She would say, "I just need to not make him mad" I called the police on him when he threaten to whip me and Cherie @ss... I told him he would die tryin... long story short he didn't but over that weekend he beat Cherie so bad that she ended up in the hospital where she died a two days later. I was so hurt and mad as hell. I couldn't figure out why she stayed with him. Her mother knew and yet she did nothing. Why????? I will always remember Cherie and I dedicate this to her. Today I work for women's right and I counsel women and children of abuse. If you are being abused get out and stay out... donot believe you can change that person because if you could... He/she wouldn't abuse , Love doesn't have to hurt.
Stokholm syndrom
Do you describe here "Stokholm syndrom" ?
Which is a response of victims in front of their hangman. Victims finally approve their victimizers after a long time with them.
I don't know enough about it...
but I don't think that all victims get that syndrom.
Suggested reading
Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat. Explores our role as women and society at large in perpetuating violence against women. I read this a long time ago, and parts haunt me still...
Breath, Eyes, Memory
One of the best books Ive read, i suggest it especially if you are an american-immigrant.
Growing up...
My mother was in an abusive marriage for seven years.She finally ended it when my little brother, who was 5yrs old at the time, looked at her angrily and asked her why are you letting the police take my daddy?!
the experience of growing up like that,I have a zero tolerance for hitting me or any human being .I agree that it can become a cycle that can continue,but I did not want it to be so.
My mother has grown into a successful woman,and has been in a respectful and loving relationship,but it was and still is a long lonely and very painful journey for her to achieve emotional independence and happiness.
I know that now and back then ,that i just do not understand the logic of staying in an abusive relationship.I had to reteach myself that love is not verbal and physical abuse.It was not easy but the love of my family and friends has helped me,for the love and respect for oneself is something which should be shared and is priceless.
*sigh*
Everyone also need to remember that it isn't just about physical abuse, it can also be mental and verbal abuse. My parents are very strict seventh day adventist and I grew up seventh day adventist but the one thing that I kept seeing in my parents' relationship is how my dad sometimes treats my mother. It is cultural in my family and that doesn't make it any better, its so much worse this way because I think women are taught that it is their place to serve and be, in the family hierarchy, under the man. My father does not physically abuse my mother but there have been many times when my father would treat my mother or respond to my mother like she was stupid. My mother is a microbiologist and my father is a maintenance engineer. My mother makes more than my father by a few thousand dollars and she handles all the finances for our household. Basically, my mother handles everything in the household.
There was one time when my parents threw a party for one of our family friends and my mom was telling my dad that the grill couldn't be in front of the tent, its a sort of fire hazard. My Dad yelled at my Mom in front of everyone saying, "Well what do you want me to do? You should have thought of that earlier before we moved it, you should know better!!"
My mother looked really hurt and very embarrassed. It really hurt me to see her like that. I was so pissed off at my dad and I took him aside and told him that what he did was so wrong and he just brushed it off like it was nothing and he said, "its just your Mom, she understands"...and right then and there I wanted to really slap him because NOBODY deserves that kind of treatment. My Mom and I were never close...I was closer to my Dad...but when my Dad treated her like that, I get so pissed and I take my Mom's side.
He just feels like he should point out every mistake she makes and he doesn't call her outright stupid but his tone of voice is always sarcastic with her. She doesn't do anything about it...its like my mom doesn't have a voice. Even when they kicked me out the house, it was my dad who decided....I don't even know what my mother really thought about it...because the way it is in my house is that my mom is wherever my dad is. I never really thought about it as anything more than my dad being a bum but now that I am out of the house, I see how bad it really is. What's even worse is that my mom doesn't do anything about it.
I mean, i am not saying that my household is constantly fighting or anything. My Dad is a pretty peaceful person but when there happens to be a fight, he always treats my Mom like she's nothing and it hurts. He'll never hit her...I have only seen my Dad violent once and that was when he punched through my door but he never touched me. What scares me is what if something does go down and he ends up hitting my mom? I wouldn't know about it because they have forced themselves to forget that they have no daughter.
My Dad is a good father and I know it because he has always been there but at the time when I most needed him he flaked on me. What if that happens to my mother? He has never hit her but there could always be a first time...what then?
Thanks
This was a very good blog Lenelle, I think it touches base with a lot of people. I've never been abused or witnessed any abuse. My mom tells me my grandfather used to beat the living crap out of my grandmother. He was German and insane. I only met them a handful of times when I was really young. He had complete control over my grandmother- she couldn't exist without him. Seriously, he didn't teach her to drive, she can't write well, she couldn't leave the house without him. When he died, like 5 years ago she was so relieved, but here she is now in her 80's and can't do the everyday things for herself. Luckily she moved in with my moms sister in Michigan and she's living the life now! She loves life and when she writes I realize how much I take for granted: she's excited about people around people and being able to go out and eat in a restaurant (such simple things right?) I think it's probably a good thing that I didn't meet him when I was older, like now, because I've become so outspoken and cocky for womens rights, there's no telling what I would've said/did to him, lol. When my mom would talk to me about it, I would get really mad and say that I would've kicked his ass and make him wish he'd never done those things. My mom would bring up the fact that he was like 6'2 and 5 times my size in weight-my reply was always, well you kick any man in his nuts and he'll come down in size, lol. But anyway, my mom and my grandmother lived in fear of this man for so long and I couldn't understand why, but I believe actually living that kind of abuse puts a completely different mindset on it and I'm not sure that people who haven't experienced it can understand. Let any man hit me and surely he'd be in the hospital for a very long time or dead! (I'm not violent, in fact I've never hit anyone in my life), but this really touches base with me because so many close to me have lived this abuse in silence.
My second story (sorry these blogs are so long) is that I had a friend in high school. She was loud and funny and everyone liked her. She always wore this huge poncho, big baggy sleeping pants, and long sleeves even in the middle of summer (in Florida!). We always thought that it was either her trying to be funny because that's just her nature or we thought it might be because she was a little chunky and she felt bad about her body. We always tried to talk her into wearing other things because she literally wore that same outfit everyday, but she would never wear anything else. This went on before high school and for the entire 4 years of HS. So senior year rolls around and one day her dad comes to the school to take her out; he was really pissed off because she had racked up a huge cell bill: He was furious and fuming in the guidance office. They wouldn't let her go with him because he was out of control. In the end it turns out that she always wore that outfit because she had bruises all over her. Her father beat her and her mother on a daily basis. I was so shocked when I found this out, I mean SHOCKED. How could I have not known that for all those years? I'm a freaken idiot. All those times we tried to make her wear something else because we thought she was just trying to be funny and all along she had to keep her abuse to herself and just put on a smile...everyday.
Abuse changes the life of so many, and I strongly reccommend to anyone who might be having an issue like this to be brave, talk to a guidance counslor, the police, someone who can help you because you do not want to end up like my grandmother, spending your entire life unhappy, sad, depressed, and living in fear. Much love to all. --Britt
I like your last line where
I like your last line where you said: "We must not let ourselves die trying to save them."
I totally agree with this statement. There are many women out there that go back to their abusers because they "forgive" them. It may stop for a little but once an abuser always an abuser. Women end up dead from going back to their abusers. Women need to stop the cycle of going back and forgiving, they just need to move on.
Amen
You're absolutely correct. The cycle must stop. Nice post Laurel(haha ;-) --Britt
I can't speak to the whys
I can't speak to the whys and wherefores of women staying with, and sometimes seeking out abusive situations. But I can say that although it takes a strong woman to leave such a situation, it takes and equally strong woman to stay. All we can hope, for this new generation of young women, is that we learn from the past, from subservient women who have become victims.
Thank you for sharing such heartwrenching stories. However painful they are to read about, they are important to hear.
Why do women do this?
You ask, "Why do women do this? Why do we bite our tongues or speak in defense of the criminals we manage to love?"
I ask: Why do the abusers abuse in the first place? And how do societal systems, institutions and cultural practices allow the abusers to continue the cycle of violence?
Lenore Walker...
It's called Battered Women's Syndrome...it becomes a kind of psychological state of mind and the women blame themselves. They think that they deserve to be beaten because they didn't do what the person thinks is right. They think they made the mistake and they deserve the punishment. The abuser, after he beats her up, starts to apologize and they get all sweet and promise to change. The women fall for it...its awful but these women need some real psychological help because it becomes a state of mind.
What's even more shocking to
What's even more shocking to me is the domestic violence within the lesbian community.
yeah it's a serious point. In france there was for a long times a kind of silence unfer this theme because of the feminist's argument saying the violence the women are under comes from the patriarcal scheme, women are "good" by nature. So it was unthinkable lesbians biting each other. But there habe been a turn, and now the fact is discuss, not simply ignored and i've heard of some initiatives, to give clever answers and specially for the victim but alsp to introduce the "hitter" in a speech processus...Even in hard pure feminism theory the resolution is the internalization of machism by women...
close to home...
My father was a complete jerk when I was a kid, and I just didn't know any better. He used to hit me and my mother for really stupid reasons. Sure, some of my spankings may have been called for; but not to the intensity given. I'm kind of jittery around belts, as a result. And I don't like it when people playfully hit or smack me...or throw things at me.
I was never sexually abused, but I know that my mom was...but she wouldn't do anything, and I needed my father. He'd usually feel guilty about anything he did to me and would compensate with materials things, i.e. video games and such. That's probably why I like video games so much now. They were kind of an escape from reality.
I know I lied countless times to friends, my friends' parents, and teachers about the source of numerous bruises. We had to take my mother to the emergency room once for head trauma...I told her that it was her decision whether or not we told the truth about what really happened. I really wanted to bust his ass and get him sent somewhere, but she decided we should make something up. So, I made up a story for the doctors; and all was "well."
It sucked...but at least my parents are separated as of last July. And my father doesn't dare lay a hand on my 15 yr old sister. First of all, I think she could kick his ass...but then I'd have to do a follow up ass kicking.
He's supposed to be on anti-depressant meds and things like that, but he generally doesn't take them because he thinks he doesn't need them. Whatever... I think we're all over it for now...he hasn't hit me since I was probably 16, and I'm 21 now. Even so, he thinks that he should be forgiven for everything just because he's become a better person. I think that's bullshit. But I guess I'm just not a very forgiving person...
Thanks for the post, Lenelle.
-Beth.
--the world is a vampire...
Never Tolerate Abuse
I absolutely must commend the author of this blog for being brave and honest about a very difficult subject. Any light we can shed on these kinds of issues is good, because it removes the burden of shame, offers the victims a chance to be empowered with support, and to figure out how to relieve themselves of these horrible relationships. Society has a long way to go when it comes to targeting abuse and helping people break the cycle. This subject is not fun to talk about or fun to listen to. And that is why it needs our undivided attention, so that we can make it go away.
It is also true that lesbians have our share of abusers among us. If that applies to anyone here, do not be ashamed of your situation and do have that person arrested. You do not deserved to be harmed. If it is verbal abuse, that is also 100% unacceptable. No woman has a right to coerce you, manipulate you, belittle you or insult you. That person will not change and you must leave them. I know this - I've been there, too. The day you hit that gas pedal is one of the best days of your life.
For the author, I send you warm regards and a high five. You don't have to forgive anybody until you're damn ready. It's OK!
http://www.lezbang.com
My father had a very hot temper
But he would never hit my mother. In fact, he wouldn't spank his kids if he was really angry. I loved my dad very much, so part of me wants to believe that he was a good many who's honor prevented any abuse. But then I also remember my mother telling me that she once told my father that she would not fight a man, but if he ever hit her, he better never lay his head down to sleep in the same house. It seems boiling oil in the ear is a very slow and painful death. Once she made reference to her 3 older brothers.
Anyway, the point is, he never hit her or abused her in any way.
Women are at risk and in many cultures we are under constant assault. What's even more shocking to me is the domestic violence within the lesbian community.
The way I've got it figured is, you got one time to hit me, and that would have to be a sucker punch. After that, either one of us is leaving, or one of us is going to the morgue.
There's a thin line...