What, he didn't even punch you?

"Did he punch you in the face with a closed fist? Oh, come on! You're not an abused person. Stop lying to us and to yourself." Somebody from his family actually said that to me the day after a judge ruled in my favor issuing a restraining order against my husband and confirmed that in the eyes of the law, he had in fact committed domestic violence against me, both physical and emotional. What's sad is that the person who said this to me is not alone in his thinking on the subject and many people out there don't think that abuse is abuse unless the victim has been physically beaten with closed fists and in need of hospitalization. But hasn't it gone a bit too far by then? It's pretty safe to say couples usually don't get to that place overnight, and most abused people need help and should have a way out long before it ever gets to that point. Sadly many never do and some even suffer to the point of death because people around them, and they themselves do not recognize the signs of domestic violence until it's too late.

Let's think about this now. How much does a person have to show physical suffering or injury in order for others to believe she is being systematically broken down by her own husband? There's usually some very good reasons that outward signs are missing or appear missing. Shame, guilt, and fear are amongst these, preventing victims from reaching out, sharing about their abuse, and have them even lying to cover up and protect their abusers. That's what I did. Denial is also a large factor for not getting it even for the victim. It's easy to believe what you want to believe about a person, especially a person whom you love. So though it is incredibly painful to have his family not believe me, I don't entirely blame them. My hope though is to be able to educate others and help more people to see what emotional abuse is, that it is damaging, and often much more so than just physical abuse because of its deeper and longer lasting effects.

I'm a very visual learner and have been trying to think about a way to illustrate my experience of emotional and psychological abuse that can help people with no experience understand it. It's a very difficult thing and unless you've lived it, I don't know that you can truly grasp how horrible it was and is. You may have heard the term chinese water torture before. More people have probably heard about the much debated "waterboarding" in the news in recent years, another form of water torture where the person is made to feel like they are drowning. Well the practice of chinese water torture (which there is no evidence it was actually practiced by the Chinese) is basically where a person is restrained and forced to have water dripping on their forehead over a long period of time. It may not sound like much to some, I mean, they certainly are not being beaten or punched, and it doesn't even leave any marks right? But this practice is said to have driven it's prisoners literally insane. What really made it worse apparently was when the timing of the water dropping was varied so the victim didn't know when the next drop would come. That was what life was like in my marriage and relationship with my ex, and sometimes still is.

What's fascinating to me is that even after I left, it took me some time to sort through and see how far back those little drips started falling and how easy it was to mistaken them for harmless nothings, and then finally recognizing it for what it was. Near the end I did feel insane and frantic over the hollow that seemed to be forming on my head reaching down through my heart, and I was in constant fearful anticipation of when the next piercing drop would fall.

It could be as simple as the tone of voice, saying something really awful in a nice, calm way, ideas planted here and there meant to unsettle me, little lies and twists of the truth that made me doubt myself and my perceptions. Soon I was wondering which way was up because I was made to believe that I shouldn't trust my own instincts or senses even, and that perhaps I was crazy afterall. I am thankful that I had enough moments of clarity and help from others to see that I was in fact not crazy at all. Only when removed from his direct influence could I begin to regain my sanity and sense of real self again.

Close to a year later, I am still healing from the psychological wounds long after the bruises have gone, and it's still a struggle not to let those old lies take over. I wish I could go to that person that told me I wasn't abused and do like a mind meld or something to make them feel what it was like, or just to shake him and yell at him over and over "OPEN YOUR EYES," but I can't. I guess I am just glad that I was able to open my own eyes, and hopefully now a few of yours. Nobody deserves abuse of any kind, whether it leaves a visual mark or not. If you think you're being abused, please seek help. And if someone reaches out to you, the least you can do is believe them.

Hannah Bee

all good things

Have you ever had something that you spent so much time trying to get someone to see or care about and they pretty much ignored you and it? But then as soon as you take that thing away or tell them they can't have it anymore, the same person starts crying and fighting for it..."MINE, MINE, MINE!" This scenario is pretty commonplace when you're dealing with a toddler like I do everyday, especially during mealtimes. What's really terrible is when the thing is the toddler, and the person fighting for it (quite dirtily, I might add) is a grown man.

This situation of mine often leaves me with a negative frame of mind, and has the power if I let it, to cast a shadow over everything. I've decided that the first thing to do in order for it not to do that, is to outright refuse to live that way. The next thing is figuring out how to do that, and constantly check myself so not to let my mind be led down those crazy rabbit trails. So what can I focus on and think about instead? Well one great passage in the Bible says, "whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." What a novel idea, right? It's like the deeper version of Julie Andrews singing "My Favorite Things."

So, my daughter happens to be my most favorite true and lovely, excellent thing, and the reason why I left my abusive relationship in the first place. It's possible I might have just stayed and taken more if it was just me. Maybe not, but I definitely left for her. For my daughter's sake, I left. She is the greatest blessing that came out of such a mess. For her I'd endure any other hardship I needed to if it gave her a better life and a better chance. There have been days when I wondered if I made the right decision. But everyday I grow stronger and healthier again, and looking back I can't ever imagine willingly being in that place again, and am so glad that she won't have to grow up being exposed to what she was those first few months of her life.

It's interesting to think about some of the things I actually left behind and then some of the things that I am still working on shedding. However I look at it now, that place I left had once been my home. My husband was my family. His family had become my family. And I did love all of them. It was also what I had grown to know, what was familiar. We had a routine and I had found ways to get by and survive and some days it wasn't even so bad. Of the things I lost when I left,  I think mostly, I lost the dream and hope of things not as they were but as I wished them to be. It's weird because the disappointing loss of that possibility has been much more profound than the actual loss. Not because the actual loss was small, but that denial bubble that I once surrounded myself in is now popped, and what I see before me is not an easy road. Sometimes I miss stupid things like the big yard, or having that beautiful engagement ring on my finger, and yes, my clothes. And I wonder how and when I will ever be able to replace it all (not just the stuff, but the idea part of "it all"). But then I am reminded that I was able to escape with the one most cherished thing I have, my child. I pray everyday that I don't lose her in all this mess. And I don't mean the physical part of her, but the more important parts of all she is and all the potential that is in her.

Sometimes I still replay in my head over and over again some of the bad fights, conversations, etc. and I think about what I could've done or said, though I know it's useless and just ends up reminding me of the hurt. I'm sure one day, all of it will fade and hopefully some new beautiful growth can cover over or replace it. Until then I just have to keep my eye on the those good and wonderful things that keep me going. Thank you all who are reading this and all the people that will one day read this for inspiring me to do so.

Be free and peace be with you.
Hannah Bee

Happily ever after and a bottle of wine

No, I am not drunk. But if I were, would you blame me? Been thinking about love a lot these days. Yes, the romantic kind. And it is February, and in less than a couple of weeks it's Valentine's Day. I also happened to attend a bridal shower today which was actually good. I was reminded of how amazing love can be when the right people come together. But it also made me wonder. Although I am thankful to have a few great examples of healthy and loving couples in my life right now, I wonder if I will ever have what some of my friends do. I remember once when I was a young teenager, someone asked me what I wanted most when I was all grown up. I said I wanted to have a happy marriage and family. One of my friends immediately told me that I was dreaming and that there's no such thing. I'm sure my response was like, "WHATEVER!"

I knew what she meant though. I wasn't exactly thinking that life would be all castles and ballgowns like in the fairy tales where the words "happily ever after" usually came before even the honeymoon began. I knew relationships took work, and knew plenty of people with divorced parents, but I wasn't about to give up on my dream. I knew it could happen. My parents were still married, and actually still are, and not just for the kids type a thing. They love each other and are good together and I think they are happy. So I figured I had a decent model to go by, so why shouldn't I have the same chance?

So I worked hard at it. When I liked a guy, I tried as best I could to be a good girlfriend, the type a guy might like to marry one day. Maybe I even tried too hard. In high school, the guys I liked or even loved never seemed to love me back, or at least not enough to want to stick around. And then one actually said I was the type of girl he would want to marry, but of course he wasn't anywhere near ready to do that and moved on to someone else that was just fun for the time being I guess. So life went on and I gave up on boys for awhile.

In college and after, more failed relationships. I just couldn't pick a good one, or was it that the wrong guys were picking me and I somehow was terrible at figuring that out until it was too late? And of course the one I actually ended up marrying being the worst of the bunch. What happened? One thing that I realize now that contributed to these unhealthy and failed relationships is that I often got so lost in them, like I needed to give up something of myself for the other. I found myself cutting a part of me off so I could make room for someone else to "complete me," instead of seeing myself as already whole first and finding another whole person to join and create something wonderful with. I'm picturing two broken pieces of something and no matter how hard you try, you're not gonna fit them together to make a perfect whole, at least not without a big crack in the center. But for some reason many of us, myself included just keep desperately trying, all the while more bits of ourselves crumble off. I know this isn't the best analogy, but I think you get my meaning.

So can happily ever after exist? Yeah, I think it can be possible. But not if we keep believing that magically another person can fill our voids, be the answer to our many problems, or make us happy if we aren't already. I still hope and pray one day I will find a true love and a person I can grow old with, someone I can be happy alongside, who accepts me for who I am, while inspiring me to be better, and for whom I can do the same. Like finding the perfect wine pairing to whatever you are eating. It brings out the flavor of the dish and makes it that much better.

Here's to finding that special wine, but knowing that even without, you (and I) can still be one tasty dish!
Hannah Bee.