I Think I Hate Clare, at least a little...

Remember my story of our cousin disciplining her daughter?  It was violent and uncalled for, and obviously a stress release mechanism for Cousin L.  None of us spoke up.  There were at least four of us at the table.  The bravest I could be was in talking to her privately later, and have her snap at me.  So I didn't do anything, didn't change anything, didn't help our younger relative.  We allowed the girl to be abused, just as family members allowed our cousin to be abused, just as someone knew we were being abused and didn't speak for us. Just as I knew you were being abused and didn't ask for help. That day, at Mom's house, no one was controlling me.  It was all within.  By that time I was well conditioned.  When something violent happens, cast eyes down and wait for it to be over.  How did I learn that?  How did that become such a strong part of my psyche?  What happened to my courage, my ability to speak.

It seems that if Mom was being controlled, just as I was controlled, it was way down deep inside.  Dad didn't have to do it, he just expected it, and his expectation made it go deeper, get rooted down into the depths of her soul.  And I wonder how deep the roots go in me.

The first time I spoke up was when B#4 was a teenager.  He came home late, Dad accused him of drinking, and B responded, "So, what."  [Did you ever notice that Mom becomes very frightened at these moments?  Dad and I got into an argument about Bush once, and Mom was fluttering, and oh so scared.  She knows he is violent with us, even now she knows and is frightened, it seems.] So back to the house in P., Dad was furious with "the lip" and slapped B#4.  It was intended to take the boy down, and he did stumble.  I almost gagged, felt like I was going to vomit and reacted loudly - saying No or Stop it or something - definitely not eloquent!  It distracted Dad, I remember him stopping, then turning to look at me, as if he noticed there was a person there. It defused the situation.  It may have been the first time he saw one of us become physically sick reacting to his behavior.  It may be the first time he saw any of us.

Violence does make me retch.  I am rejecting it probably the only way I can.

An older woman I know read Women Who Run With the Wolves and immediately got a wolf tattooed on her wrist.  This was about 15 years ago.  I should find the book.  Many people have mentioned it.

If the too-good mother dies...who am I?  If the barely adequate mother dies...who am I?  Will I continue to exist?  I don't feel like anything on my own.  I am invisible.  I am only someone in relation to others.  Wow...I don't know where that came from.  I'll have to tear this apart, and look for me inside this belief!

I'm beginning to think that dark and light are not definite, they are relative, that there is really so much lighter and darker than we can perceive that we need to begin being aware of our words and perceptions.  We need the relativity to determine where we are and where we are headed. But we do need to look at our selves, both in the darkest moments and in the lightest moments.  And we need to accept and embrace both.  No more kicking out the unacceptable parts of ourselves.  My gut feeling is that the parts we discarded, or who were forced out of our consciousness by violence, were the balance points for the crude selves.

And the book is right.  We are groomed to be nice.  And the prettier we are, the better.  It's the only way to deserve a man's attention, and God-knows we can't do anything alone. (Wonder what a goddess would think.) Because if we do, we're bitches.  (I don't know why that is an insult.  I like dogs.  Maybe a bitch is only a breeder, and we are being forced back to acting as livestock with this insult.  Maybe it's not a bad name, it's a wish or directions!)

I know B#3 had a tough, violent life, probably the worst of the brothers.  And I mentioned once, he seemed attached to you.  Probably because you didn't hurt him.  But our family legacy destroyed him and then he hurt you.  It makes me so sad.  I was never aware of older brothers directing the games, but I believe that it is very possible, and I definitely trust your intuition.

Many times when women are faced with abuse, we find ways to rationalize and explain away the behavior.  After all, this is usually someone we truly love.  And we know:  Love conquers all.  I know my feeling was that if I just loved my ex long enough and hard enough, the day would come when he would look at me and tell me that he was so lucky to be with me, that my love saved his life.  And then we would live happily ever after, like Beauty and the Beast. Instead, the more I did, the less he did, until I was the only one present in the marriage.  He was never physically abusive, but there was definitely an element of psychological abuse.  For instance I was never allowed to ask for anything twice.  The first time was a request.  The second time was nagging, and nagging would never be rewarded.  So he found a great way to justify ignoring me and not taking care of the family very well.  And I accepted this with that feeling of being so lucky that someone so great could possibly love me.

The self that felt that way is one of the selves I must embrace and accept, but I don't know how.  I am revolted at my own self.  How can I get past this self hatred?????

I discovered years ago that the way home is never a straight line.  Male goes straight, ramrodding everything in its path.  Female circles, taking time to view everything from different angles.  We need healthy men and healthy women to solve anything, to heal anything.  When we pair male and female we spiral forward, wisely, intelligently respectfully.  Women need a voice, and men won't want to hear the roar of indignity that comes first, but the balance will save us.


Last thought, written after editing above...I read a story about the violence of men against their wives in one of the new eastern European countries.  The women could hear a woman being beaten and didn't know what to do.  In their society, they are powerless.  Someone had the answer.  When the women heard one of their own being beaten, they gathered and went to witness it, in silence.  Just the act of standing and watching stopped the abuse.  It stopped most of the abuse in the village.  Transparency...shine that Light in all the dark places!!!