I remember my mother telling me how unique we all are. Just as no two snowflakes are alike, God instills special gifts inside all of us. Along with many creative talents, I have an unbelievable gift of hope. No matter how many atrocities I've personally witnessed, heard of and have lived through, I still hold faith and hope in my heart. I have hope that one day mankind will finally get it right. I have hope for this country and faith that one man can lead many to make great changes. I have belief, hope and faith in love; selfless, sacrificing, kind, patient, love. I believe that it can conquer all, that it is more powerful than hate and if given enough time it will run its course and become victorious. I don't profess to have all the answers, and I certainly can't speak for every survivor of domestic violence, but I can tell you why I stayed.

 

 

 I am the eldest of two children. For nine years I was an only child, and although I loved every minute of it, I liked being a big sister more. My childhood was bittersweet. Being the eldest in a single parent home left me with a lot of responsibilities. Some memories have faded and there are others I wish I could forget, but the values, perseverance and pride that was instilled in me earlier in life, helped mold me into the woman I am today. I have learned to appreciate my past.

I come from a long line of strong independent women, survivors. My grandmother, presently 91, has out lived all three of her husbands.She went from helping her mother in the fields, (Yes black folks picked cotton long after slavery was abolished!) to cleaning houses for white people, to working in a hospital. She raised 7 children, 6 boys and one girl; my mother.  

Mommy was sent to Chicago at 19 to have me because she was an unwed mother to be. She raised my sister and I by herself. She had a little help every now and then like most single mothers, but for the most part, it was just us. I don't think either of us turned out too badly. We have stumbled along the way and carry with us multiple battle scars, but the two of us are strong, independent women, building a legacy and passing family traditions to our children.

 

 

 

 

 

Contrary to what most women believe about battered women, it was my strength that usually rubbed most men the wrong way, at least that's the way I perceived it. These men didn’t have issue with why dinner wasn’t ready, or because I was clumsy and spilled things, or because my appearance was disgusting to them, I just never knew when to shut up. You mix that in with know-it- all tendencies and you have the makings for a beat down.There were many attempts made by different men to break me of this inherited characteristic and I'll admit I have been parallel to the ground just as many times, but I never stayed there.

  I'd always been good with discretion, so not even my closest friend at the time knew the hell I was going through in the last relationship. (I would find out later that she was equally clever with deception)  All the incidents in previous relationships were minor in comparison to the last lover of mine. Self professed soul-mates, we always played the role.   Whenever the world saw us we epitomized true love.There wasn't a couple more perfect for one another than us. At least that’s what it looked like to the people who were not part of our inner circle, but soon the cracks underneath surfaced and became visible for everyone to see.

 

In all my years of sharing my personal dynamic with my closest and most trusted friends, never once did they ask me why I stayed. I don't know if they just loved me too much and didn't want to make me feel worse than I did, or if secretly they had their own ideas. Which ever the case, I'm sure the question was skulking somewhere in their minds. It was certainly lingering around in mine.

 

Every year around my birthday, I read my journals, every single one of them. (It takes me about a week ) Each time I find out something new about myself, my past, present and who I hope to become. When I'd get to the journals that reflected the period of my life when I was in that abusive relationship, one theme kept resounding; "What was wrong with you, why didn't you leave him?" Each time I read one of the journals, that question would be scribbled there in some manner. Previously I'd never attempted to answer the question, it was just written rhetorically.

One day while having a conversation with a good friend about a comment another friend made, I had the answer. Before that moment of revelation, I shared the same sentiment of most women who aren't familiar with this face of violence.   I wasn't stupid, weak or afraid. I wasn't keeping my piece of man for fear of not finding another one, nor was I too terrified to leave. And though low self esteem, depression and alcoholism played a big part, hope made me stay. I was a damsel in distress waiting for the man that I fell in love with to return and save me from this fairytale gone afoul. I prayed endlessly for the pod that just had to be living inside of my mate to leave its host and return my drained, confused, and amnesiac lover back to me. What I didn't know was, this wasn't going to happen. I had to remove the yellow ribbon from my heart and move the hell on or risk being killed. In the past that seemed like an exaggeration to me, but I've learned a lot of things in 10 years and one of them is how blessed I truly am.  

 

 

 

It's is hard to believe another year has gone by so fast.  It seems like just a few months ago I was putting together last years video for domestic violence awareness month.  I am doing my best to stay committed to this cause no matter how uncomfortable it becomes.  It is a difficult topic for me to address but I feel it is one of the more important ones.  Especially since I know this face of violence so well.

In the weeks to come I will be posting stories, videos, poems and testimony from survivors and the loved ones of those who weren't so blessed. In my heart I hope that anyone who comes across my contribution will take a serious look at this issue and take their own individual step toward change.  Even if it's just  a small change in the way you once viewed women in abusive relationships.  I'm also asking you to help be by uniting your voice with mine in speaking out against domestic & sexual abuse.

 

At the end of the month I will post my contribution on the site.  In the meantime please review last year's video and pass the link to those you know. The person on the receiving end, may be exactly who the video was intended to impact. 

 

 

Peace, Love & Flow

~Mo'Kha