When you want to have a relationship with an abuse victim’s abuser, and you expect them to act ‘cordial’ because its supposed to be a normal relationship (and its not), you’re embroiling them in more abuse. I cannot (not for the life or me or for anybody) act as if its OK for me to have any contact with either of my abusers (my mother or my father).
They’re equal bad: I tell you every time he beat me she sat in the corner and watched; I tell you every time she called me fat she did it to make herself feel better (because she’s the one who could stand to loose more than a few pounds, not me). I tell you I am tired of seeing, speaking, or hearing of the face of an abuser who called ‘family’ meetings to talk about how I’m not working (when I blog all the time – right here), and I am tired of seeing the face of the person who hosted ‘family meeting’s (to see if I’m’overweight ‘again,’ when I’m at a healthy weight for over 7 years now and not pregnant – as ‘overweight’ or ‘getting heaver’ is code for ‘pregnant). I am tired: its going to take a lot of time for me to live with the flashes ( that is visual memories) of being beaten, slapped, hit, kicked, choked, grabbed, and being made afraid to go ‘home.’ I’m telling you its going to take just as long to get over being made ashamed to be the size and weight that I am ( 5’9 1/2, 177 pounds, a size 8 dress, and size 12 pants); I’m telling you its going to take the rest of my life to make sure that people know I’m a victim of abuse and you better back away from me if you think its OK to tell an adult someone (when you’re not a doctor or a nutritionist) how much to eat, how to live, when to go to school (and for what program), or how much money should be in their bank account. I’m a woman (not a kid), and it took me a long time to realize how ugly my mother is on the inside (because of how insecure and angry with herself, and everyone else, she is). Her inner ugly is so damaging to other people (like a tornado): when she’s in a good mood (as is the case of my father) she needs you to sit and laugh with her. When she’s angry, she too yells so much the house shakes. When mother dearest wants to feel ‘in charge’ she comes in like the suffocating and debilitating negative force she is, and she sucks the life right out of you. I tell you I am tired: women can be just as abusive as men: I don’t care if you birthed a child or adopted one: if you choose to be a mother be to their credit (strength and happiness) rather than to their determent (a thorn in their side). I can’t forgive my mother or my father’s abuse because neither of them care to talk about it on my schedule (as a victim of abuse) and in a way that works best for me (as a victim of abuse). People in the family believe a woman can’t possibly be abusive, but they all need to know this: If I had my say, both my mother and my father would be in jail for domestic abuse (emotional abuse – that’s forcing me to hug them and say good morning and act like its all OK; psychological abuse – trying to make me question my worth in the scope of my career and my love life which I keep to myself; financial abuse – picking up my job phone calls and lying about me -to prospective employers – so they (‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’) can continue to humiliate me for being educated and ‘not gainfully employed (when I am, I just need more cash flow),’ and for blocking my right to get help from outside of the Asidianya household; physical abuse – being slapped, hit, kicked in the legs, choked, my arms and ears pulled, and all else). I am tired.
I have the right to be happy and I have the right to handpick whose face I want to see. Listen to me.
I need people to leave my posts alone (WordPress and otherwise). I have the right to a voice: you can’t shut me up or try to censor what I have to say.