Breaking silence is work: On fear, compassion, and community action

Tags

activism, advocacy, attention vs. privacy, breaking silence, breaking taboo, compassion, domestic violence, domestic violence awareness, excavation, no shame, take action, un-silencing, work

Excavate. Photo by Flickr user Craig Sunter (Creative Commons license).

One question I face often is why I write about the bad things that have happened to me. Sometimes people actually ask me this, and sometimes I can just read it on their faces. Sometimes I think I can just feel it in the ether around me, between the more-than-usual hits on my blog but fewer-than-usual comments.

This question is born out of an ingrained belief that victims and survivors of abuse must feel so ashamed. This is a dangerous belief. We are not all alike. Some of us feel shame, and some of us, like me, do not. I know I didn’t ask for abuse. I know I didn’t encourage it (whatever that means), provoke it (ridiculous–there is no behavior that calls for being demeaned or assaulted), or do it to myself. The belief is dangerous because it causes cops, lawyers, judges, close friends and family–people who could actually help–to only believe the victims who cry, not the ones who seethe, not the ones who are calm but stumble over their words, not the ones who can tell when you suspect them of lying and so say very little. Sometimes even the criers are doubted, if they’re crying too hard or loud, if they’re “hysterical”…

I also think the question is born out of discomfort and disbelief on the part of the reader. We as a society are quick to focus on perceived holes in abuse stories, or at least to not want to hear them.

That’s why I believe that breaking silence is actually work, in the traditional sense. 

3-Day Quote Challenge: Sadness

Tags

3 Day Quote Challenge, balance, feel less alone, good days and bad, quotes, sadness, Shawna Ayoub Ainslie

One of my new favorite bloggers, Shawna Ayoub Ainslie, tagged me in the 3-Day Quote Challenge on the theme of sadness.

It’s like she’s read my blog or something. Wink.

Yes, I have stuff to say about sadness. Yes, I can point to quotes others have expressed on sadness.

Yes, I have sadness.

Yes, sometimes I AM sadness.

One thing I’ve come to…I can’t say “accept” yet…realize is that there will be days when I feel badder-than-ass invincible and others when I feel like a veritable hot mess.

What life is like when I’m not mama

Tags

always a mom, having a life, missing my son, mom life, single mom life, visitation

I like bikes and I named my son Jax–maybe too much Sons of Anarchy?

I’m always a mother, first of all. Always. But sometimes, my son goes to visit other people to whom he’s related, and there’s no one calling me mama for a couple days. I’m going to share a very-little of what my life is like during those days, because it’s too strange and conflicted a feeling to not consider on a blog about single mom-ing.

First, it should be noted that there are really only two things I ever WANT to do when my son isn’t around, if you don’t count going to pick him up and bring him home. I want to write and sleep. That’s it. If I could sleep until 11, rise, move through some sun salutation poses, make my coffee just the way I like it (thick as motor oil, with cream and chocolate syrup), and write in pajamas until time to sleep again, I would do it. But I can’t.

See, mom mode doesn’t stop when your child isn’t around. It doesn’t stop for me. If it does for you, please think about writing to me and throwing me an advice bone.

Fall down seven times, get up and remember you’re alone eight

Tags

falling down, getting up, help, injured while mothering, loneliness, moms get hurt, self-care, self-reliance, slow down, sprained ankle, walk it off

I fall down sometimes. I’ll live.

Two days ago, I fell leaving daycare with my son, and though I didn’t need another reminder that I’m alone in this whole parenting endeavor, there one was.

There also was my rolled ankle, swelling and darkening in my favorite black leather gladiator sandals. There was the pavement. There was my boy, unhurt, concerned for me, wriggling and untangling himself from all our legs and arms on the ground. There I was, calling for help.

I’m going to move right past the part about being triggered by being in pain on the ground. This was not like those other times. This time, help came when I called.

I’m just going to back up and say what happened.

Not your mother’s mother: On parenting styles

Tags

authoritarian parenting, authoritative parenting, cry it out, Marcy's Diner, parenting styles, permissive parenting, single mom parenting, strike the balance, what kind of parent am I, what kind of parent do I want to be

Parenting style? Um: single mom? Photo by Flickr user drinks machine (Creative Commons license).

I’m reading a lot about different parenting styles because despite blogging about (among other things) being a mom, I don’t think 1) I even remotely know everything there is to know, or 2) I am the best mom in the world. I’m not the worst because my kid is happy and healthy; but no awards have arrived in the mail, you know?

One book I’m reading—I don’t want to share the title because it’s also about other stuff—outlines three types of parenting: permissive, authoritarian, and authoritative. The author thoroughly defines each style, but I’m gonna break it down in real talk. Permissive parents let their kids do whatever they want. Authoritarian parents are disciplinary control freaks. Authoritative parents strike a balance.

My year of reclamation

Tags

alone time, being an adult, coping, gratitude, my favorite things, reclaiming, reclamation, remembering, self-awareness, self-care, sense of self, settling in, trying new things

Mountaintop selfie: the view up here is good.

Earlier this week, I blogged about “taking my life back.” Sometimes you have to high-five yourself, be your own best friend. Rather than dwell on the events that precipitated this…yeah, rebirth seems like the right word…I feel like making a list of things I’m doing or have done in the past year to start over.

I’m a list-loving kind of woman.

I know this list is gonna sound a little Oprah, a little “be your best self,” but I lost my sense of self for a while. This is my welcome-back. This list is full of old and new favorite things that have helped me remember and grow who I am, one for every month of the last year:

Blood Lotus and ch-ch-ch-change

Tags

Blood Lotus, editing, editor, essay, lit mag, Revolution John, support

I’ve been talking a lot about Blood Lotus lately. BL is the online lit mag my best writing pal, Teneice Durrant, and I co-founded back in 2006. Yeah, nearly 10 years ago. Anyway. We’ve closed to new submissions, and I wrote an essay about it that’s up at Revolution John.

The feedback I’ve gotten from that essay has been incredible. I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to write to me or comment on the piece.

Still superhuman: My son’s second hospital stay

Tags

hospitals, Jax, my son is superhuman, perspective, Super Jax, surgery, time, yelling at doctors

I hate hospitals. Photo by Flicker user Ralf (Creative Commons license).

Last week, my son had surgery and I had a poem accepted for publication.

The two events are unrelated except that both happened to me, and I started thinking about how life pretty much goes on whether you think it will, or want it to, or not.

For example. When I say “my son had surgery,” what I mean to say is that my son FINALLY had surgery. I recently posted about yelling at doctors and health insurance people. All of that was a direct result of numerous attempts to get the damn surgery scheduled in the first place.

Hopefully (?) blogs will be obsolete enough in the future that my son won’t ever have to know that I told the intrawebz about his right undescended testicle. Sorry, bud.

One shade, not 50, of not wanting to be triggered anymore

Tags

50 Shades of Gray, abuse in lit, being triggered, misogyny, narratives of abuse, rape culture, self-care, trigger warnings, triggers, writing about abuse

Reading all of these instead of 50 Shades.

My last blog post was an uplifting little thing about remembering who I am. It was “up.” I was “up” when I wrote it. I am not always “up.” The point of self-awareness and even self-care isn’t to cure yourself of all negativity and struggle. That’s impossible. The point is to be able to recognize your limits, push them but also respect them, adequately cope with bad days, and take full advantage of good days.

Good days are when I sleep through the night, don’t lose my patience with my punkin, write something, and remember to eat and drink water. Maybe throw in a short hike and a favorite song on my car stereo.

Bad days are…my own to deal with, at least for now.

Last summer was bad for domestic violence victims and survivors.

Settling in is not settling down: On gratitude

Tags

climbing mountains, finding a routine, gratitude, happy again, settling in

Getting lost in the woods is just another way to find yourself.

Every once in a while, usually in the aftermath of a near-meltdown, the universe arbitrarily decides this, THIS is the day when you will realize–no, you will remember–your life is not so bad.

After great pain, a cringy feeling comes.

All your debilitating anxiety from the previous year melts away and you realize you’ve settled into a routine that is working for you. And you feel a little ashamed at all your fussing and fretting. Ok, I do. I feel a little ashamed.