Blog Archives

1/21/2014

By Girl on a Journey, See the Triumph Contributor

When I first left my abuser, I felt completely lost. The pain was paralyzing...heartbreak and betrayal that is almost indescribable and you physically hurt. The strong emotions were very difficult to manage. Because I had been so beat down and felt so lost inside, I felt my inner voice was weak and not to be trusted.

The contrast between my own voice and those voices around me was very overwhelming, I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath. The battle between the people who truly love me vs. my abuser and his allies had become an all out war. It didn’t matter that I realized that those that love me where the people looking out for my best interest, the voice of my abuser always muffled their words.

Sometimes he would speak them to me, but often, it was his words left behind in my head from all the years of abuse. I felt so torn between my own feelings, the feelings of my loved ones, and the feelings of my abuser that I just wanted to run away screaming as far as I could go and never look back. I really felt like my sanity was turning on me and that I might not make it through intact.

I wasn’t willing to face the label of victim or label my husband as an abuser or accept the reality those labels created for my children, and I was fighting against it.

I like to look back at this drawing, because it helps me realize that I am getting better. My voice is growing more solid and trustworthy all the time. I am not feeling so confused anymore and I am learning to accept that the only thing I can control and manage is my own life. It is empowering when you realize that. It is simple and doable.

I am still hurting, I still wish things could be different, but I am growing more willing to accept things as they are. I was told in counseling the other day that, “When someone SHOWS you who they REALLY are, all you have to do is believe them.” I can’t stop thinking about that. My abuser has shown me who he really is. All I have to do is believe him and act accordingly.

I have a lot of hard work ahead of me still, but I feel more steady all the time. I sometimes take steps backwards, but I beat myself up less for them now. There is still a lot of uncertainty in my life, and my endeavors are not always graceful, but I am starting to function better knowing that this can be done and that it is ok to take it one day at a time.

1/17/2014

"No person should have to endure abuse"

1/16/2014

"Souls Like the Wheels"

By Allison Crowe, See the Triumph Co-Founder

I have spent New Year’s Eve with a group of friends who I have had since I was about twelve years old. With the exception of a few years, we have been together since 1998 with some or all of us each year. Every New Year’s Eve has us at various stages of our lives, with so many different ups and downs, stressors and celebrations. One of the things I love most about our tradition is that each year there is some sort of discussion about what we want for ourselves in the upcoming year – hopes, resolutions, things to stay mindful of, or lessons learned from the past year. I love this tradition because not only do I get to think reflectively about my past year and year to come, I get to do it with my closest friends. Often, they remind me of something I forgot from the past year, or help me reframe what I want to focus on in the next year. As I think about how I have these friends in my life, I feel incredibly grateful and lucky. Good friends are those who make you think even more deeply about things, yourself, and others. They always do this for me.

This New Year’s Eve as I drove to see “my girls” (as we like to call each other) I listened to the newest of the Avett Brothers CDs in the car. I love their music and lyrics, and the variety of songs they create. Some of their music is lighthearted and easy to sing along to. Other songs have so much depth and poignancy. I skipped from song to song after hearing the album in its entirety. One song, Souls Like the Wheels, was one that I was particularly struck by. It’s slow, soft, and almost feels like more of a meditation than a song. Kind of a meditation put to music. I listened to it a few times over the course of the weekend. It made me think of so many things, as good music often does. One of the biggest messages I heard in the song was about renewal, a wish for strength, and hope for change. Breaking free of old pain or challenges in order become stronger, healthier, and free. The timing of hearing this song was perfect for me personally, since I’d spent a lot of the weekend talking with my friends about changes, hopes, and things to remember for this coming year.

In addition to speaking to me on a personal level, the song also resonated with me professionally. I thought of all of the stories we’ve heard from survivors who have left an abusive relationship, or are trying to leave. I thought of all of you out there whose stories we had the honor of hearing in person, during the in-person interviews we conducted for the research that guides the See the Triumph project. Stories of abuse, pain and heartache, but also the journey to a healthy and more productive life. Learning what you are capable when things are more difficult than you ever imagined. Eventually seeing that life can be different.

When I returned home from my weekend with friends, I looked up an interview with Seth Avett, the vocalist who sings the particular song, and read an interview he’d had with a music writer. What I had heard in his message was consistent with how he explained the song in the interview. In the interview, he said that Souls Like the Wheels is a song about “a desire for rebirth, a major chance to put your old self away and allow your new self to come in. It considers experiences that are fiery and very intense that make you question what you’re made of, who you want to be, and how you’re going to change.”

To anyone else thinking about the new year ahead of us, changes you’d like to make, or perhaps just small things to be mindful of, I ask you to listen and see how the song might speak to you. The lyrics are below so that you can read along as you listen. Perhaps after listening, take a few minutes to consider some of the following reflections - how can relate to the idea of rebirth, or shedding parts of your old self to allow your new self to shine? What support, resources, skills will allow this take place? Have you had an experience that was intense that tested your strength? What learning came out of this experience?

I look forward to hearing how this song might have spoken to some of you out there. Happy New Year, everyone.

Souls like the wheels
Turning, taking us with wind at our heels
Burning, making us decide on what we're giving
Change this way of living

One little song
Give me strength to the leave the sad and the wrong
Bury safely in the past where I've been living
Alive but unforgiving
Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go

One little girl
Bring me life from where I thought it was dark
Be the spark that has a chance to light the candle
Love that I can handle
Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go
Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go

Souls like the wings
Spreading out away from bad memories
Make us capable of taking off and landing
Alive with understanding
Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go
Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go

1/15/2014

"It seems so big and scary now"

1/14/2014

The Added Stigma for Marginalized Populations

By Whitney Akers, See the Triumph Contributor

For survivors of domestic violence or intimate partner violence, it is not always safe or easy to seek help, especially if a survivor belongs to a marginalized community. Many members of communities of color, people with disabilities, the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer (LGBTIQ) community, and older adults face barriers to reporting violence and accessing support services. Some individuals do not feel safe to report experiences of violence, and some individuals fear another layer of stigma being placed on them or their community if they report.

One survivor of domestic violence stated, “Because I'm deaf, everything had to be my fault. Because the others couldn't communicate with me without an interpreter, the burden was upon me to communicate...and my partner was the interpreter. She wouldn't let me request a neutral interpreter for our counseling sessions, etc…The few times I tried to talk with our priest or our counselor, (I experienced stigma in their assumption that) it was not possible—‘my partner was hearing, she loved me, I was deaf and somehow therefore to blame, I misunderstood’.” This experience represents one type of ability-specific communication barrier to accessing support.

Another survivor in the LGBTIQ community shared her experience which was also shaped by her career and the lack of a safe space to be open about her sexuality, “It was never actually classified as domestic violence for two reasons: 1, because Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was still in place in the military at the time, so I couldn't tell anyone we were dating much less that she was abusing me, and 2, and I think this is still the case, the military Uniform Code of Military Justice defines domestic violence as something that can only happen between opposite sex couples.”

Immigrant populations are another group that faces unique challenges to reporting violence and seeking legal help due to barriers such as fear of deportation, unawareness of support sources, language barriers, and diverse family dynamics. This link further explores the reality of many immigrant women:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/for-immigrant-women-domestic-violence-creates-a-double-shadow/2013/12/02/5626b85e-55e6-11e3-8304-caf30787c0a9_story.html

How can we change our outreach to address this gap in services? How can we create safe spaces, or if we are immigrant women or women of marginalized communities, how might we access a safe community for ourselves?

1/13/2014

"He/she is like a poison"

1/10/2014

Dinner For One

By Girl on a Journey, See the Triumph Contributor

This month is Survivor to Survivor messages. I love this idea. It sometimes feels like the only other people in the world that understand my struggle are other survivors, regardless of our differences and our different circumstances of abuse. We should be here for one another, our common ground is not a pleasant topic, but we are a community none-the-less and we need each other. There are many survivors out there like me that have completely lost the community in their lives, trying to manage and hide their abusive relationship. Once we leave our abuser, judgement, fear and anxiety hold us back from rebuilding real meaningful community in our lives when we need it the most. I was feeling that I wanted to write something positive and was searching around in my brain for what to write about. Then, the other night, it just happened...something positive. It is simple and maybe a little silly, but I hope it can inspire positive moments and perhaps a smile for others as I struggle to create them in my own life, one step at time.

Tonight I decided not sit here and allow my anxiety to ruin my night when the kids left for the evening to see their dad. I can’t afford to go out to eat so I decided to go to the grocery store...which is a feat in itself because, although I love food, I hate the grocery store. Tonight, for a change though, I tried to enjoy my time there. I made eye contact with and smiled at fellow shoppers and meandered around and shopped contently. I initiated conversation with the lady that works the self-checkout area who I know is pregnant and expecting soon. We swapped birthing stories and I was able to wish her all the best. It was a simple, but meaningful connection and felt really nice. When I got home I took my time carrying my bags in without feeling negatively about the task or how cold it was and chatted on the phone with my mom. When I got off the phone, I turned the oven on, unloaded my goodies, and prepared to make a lovely salad with a nice loaf of Italian bread with a bottle of red wine to top it off.

Once the bread was in the oven, I grabbed a plate and poured the olive oil and balsamic vinegar to dip the bread in. I almost skipped chopping fresh herbs for my concoction and then I thought, if the kids were here you would do it. I really love to cook and chopping and preparing food is a form of therapy for me. It has been my refuge for many years and besides my children, one of the few joys I had in my life. I decided it was ok to do it just for me. So away I went chopping...fresh rosemary, fresh thyme and a couple of cloves of garlic. Hey...I’m single now, right? I can eat all the garlic I want (sorry family and friends). Add a little salt and pepper and yummo...delicious appetizer. I really enjoyed it, but I mostly enjoyed the relaxed state of mind I had, just me, myself and my environment. I was present in the moment and I struggle with that. I’m beginning to consider that perhaps my healing and recovery might be about making these small positive choices more often in my life. Taking control of my own heart and experience.

The rest of the evening continued on beautifully, my salad was delicious and my positive state of mind held through the clean up process. I read a new book I received from my counselor for a while and then decided to write. I was eager to see my children when they came through the door, but I had actually embraced and enjoyed a nice quiet evening to myself for the first time in a long time. It only emboldens my hope and courage and that is the main objective right now. So, cheers to a successful evening, may there be many more in my future!

1/9/2014