Before I even started to write this post, I looked at the title about 20 times or so wondering if I should change it, write something less personal, or not even write anything at all; knowing that this is just how I viewed things through my eyes. There are other lives involved in this narrative, and I want to respect their feelings. I just don't know where to begin on this one, so I guess I'll just begin...
For many years, right up until I began high school, I lived in a house where domestic violence was the norm. I cannot remember when it actually started, probably longer than the my first memory of it happening. What I will NEVER forget is the fear. It is hard for me to explain fully what was running through my mind when I was a child; but I am sure that fear crippled me into in-action more than I care to think about. Although, there was little I could have done back then as a kid, part of me wishes that I would have at least tried.
Looking back, I vividly remember knowing when me, my brother, and especially my mother were going to be in for a long night. It was a rather predictable cycle; my parents would get into an argument, my dad would exact his fury on my mother during or sometime after the argument, we'd be up at night wondering if this was the night that she would not survive the violence, after it was over he would confess how much he loved her and she was making him do this to our family. This would be the cycle we endured for years.
Even saying "we endured" seems selfish, now that I am older and have some perspective on things. My mother endured. She is literally the strongest person I know. I am pretty sure she would never tell anyone that, but there are very few people who could successfully raise young men in the midst of all that violence. Frankly, I wouldn't have blamed her if she had just ran from it all, just to save herself. She never did, and I will never be able to thank her enough for it.
I got a first hand glimpse of what true strength looks like. No beating, no choking, no punching, no object thrown, no sleepless night, was going to stop her from being a mother to her boys. Her strength was never physical, but her will could not be broken. Funny how that works out; it is the abuser who is always trying to display how strong they are. In reality, the abused, in this case, my mother was stronger than my father was, could, and is ever going to be.
I won't lie, I harbored a lot of anger towards my dad for many years. Even now, I have days that I am ENRAGED about what we went through. Often, I fall prey to thinking about what I lost in my life during those difficult years, as if being mad is going to change the past. Then I look at my life and turn that notion on its head. Yes, what we went through was hard; healing and opening old wounds year after year, losing years of fun as an adolescence and living in fear, but what I gained from all this can never be replaced. My father provided me with all the motivation I needed to be an "amazing dad to my kids and a devoted husband to my wife." I'm happy to say that those are not my words but the words of my wife.
My dad and I are on speaking terms after years of not talking at all. I don't need anything from him, but I needed forgiveness in my heart so that it would not consume me. For the most part, that philosophy has worked and allowed me to let him into my family's life, but make no mistake about it, there are still days when anger starts to bubble to the surface and I have very unkind words I want to say. My father will live the rest of his natural life with regret, but I will not allow my life circumstances to dictate my direction and the direction of my family. Nowadays, I am motivated by love. Love of my mother, wife, kids, and friends. If you are reading this and have gone through some shit, or are going through some shit, just know that you are strong enough to make it through. There will be a light at the end of the tunnel, and you will be immensely stronger when it is all said and done. I am, my brother was, my mother is! #motivation #inmyfeelings
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