In 2017 I played the song “Woman in Chains” by Tears For Fears on repeat. I guess it was my way of begging the Universe for an exit. This blog is for others like me.
Many women live among us walking on eggshells. Their feet, battered & bleeding. The eggshells, broken glass. Many women know better…but we stay. Why?
Worldwide, 1 out of 3 women suffer from Domestic Violence. Would the numbers be higher if all women actually knew what constituted abuse?
It needs to end with us.
And although I am writing about gender-based violence where men are most commonly the perpetrators due to our patriarchal hierarchy and biological differences, the truth is that this can affect anybody.
So here’s my take. After all, it did end with me and I hope to influence many others to do the same.
A month ago my ex-husband messaged me.
He had recently broken up with his girlfriend and needed my help. This wasn’t the first time he tried charming me when his love life turned to shit, returning to me as if I were a solid back up plan ready to jump back into his arms. He sent me a barrage of messages stating his cause, using sweet words to get me to agree to a legal contract I had nothing to do with. A legal contract I wanted nothing to do with.
Instantly, every cell of my body froze. After being divorced a year and separated for so much more, it only took a few seconds to reel me back to the time when the burden of him was my everyday life.
For so many years, I tolerated his impotence. His inability to fend for himself. His lack of responsibility stemming from a childhood which I will not get into. His constant excuses that made no logical sense. His spiel that he left everything behind for me…his country, his family and friends…and that I was ungrateful to complain about his shortcomings.
But I was his everything: his wife, mother, friend, confidante, cheerleader, bank account, life saver, eternal forgiver.
Not his lover. Everything else but his lover.
Every time he fucked up, I did everything in my power to put my foot down only to be swayed into a promise of a new life, a new way, a new solution that would never come true.
When he finally left, I had my peace. I exalted in having my home all to myself: fixing food only for me, budgeting only for myself and my cats. My money was my own. My life was my own. My responsibilities my own.
Freedom was good. Freedom was mine.
But all it took was his poisoned saccharine words meant to manipulate, cajole and control, hoping to lure me back into a life that connected my name to his. My bank account to his. My world to his.
I was back in hell.
Some time back, I was kneeling in between a man and a woman. My third party body, an intentional block to the building tension between them. I instantly recognized the weak, softened voice that came out of the woman’s mouth and my body hardened at the unnecessarily gruff and demeaning words that came out of the man’s – masking his bruised ego that he projected onto his wife. I knew this well. In fact, it’s all I ever knew.
I recognized myself in her and I intentionally put myself in the middle as a declaration that I knew the truth. No words needed to be said. No proof needed to be made.
My ex-husband and I had a cute beginning to our story. He pursued me relentlessly and I thought his feelings were honest and pure. I told myself that this was my chance at happiness and I half heartedly believed I was being smart by taking it. I paid a hefty price not following my intuition.
I was desperate for a happy ending that even when the red flags started to flash repeatedly across my face, etching themselves unto my skin when I continued to ignore them, I still married him. I vowed not to become my mother, and yet there I was. I guess history always repeats itself (until it doesn’t).
“Marital bliss” didn’t change our problems. Growing frustrations that I didn’t know how to properly voice out were hushed. As a result, I learned to resent him.
And I resented myself more for being so weak that I couldn’t stand up to him. I tried, oh Lord knows I tried. But I was so easily manipulated. I allowed myself to be. I enabled him to.
I was in hell.
Hell started as a child. It started with my father. Then an ex-boyfriend. Then my ex-husband.
People who don’t know me well assume that I’m kick-ass and super strong. But the truth is I’d always been a weakling. Too shy and scared to speak up. I would rather suffer than say something and be wrong.
Growing up I was taught it was best to be quiet. That’s what good girls do. It’s taken a lot of time going through the same trials over and over to finally put an end to things.
But the cells always remember. The cells always do.
Reading my ex-husband’s messages, I froze. I’ve been through this before. Although it took me a few minutes, I replied my decline — only for another barrage of messages to quickly come forward. He knew me. He’d done this before. My NOs were only for now. He knew I would eventually say yes. He’s done this so many times before.
I froze. I panicked. My blood boiled. I cried. And then I called my Virgo no-nonsense gay friend because I am now not ashamed to ask for help. My friend quickly snapped me back to reality and told me what to do. And so I did. I gathered my trembling hands and typed my second and final decline. A feat.
My friend reminded me I was no longer there. He reminded me of the woman I fought so hard to become, and that I was. I just forgot for a moment. I just forgot.
We all watch movies, read books, or hear stories where the protagonist can’t seem to leave a difficult relationship behind. Be it familial, platonic, business or romantic. We can’t seem to wrap our heads around why anyone would allow another human being to hurt them. Abuse them. Trick them. Manipulate them. Physically lay a hand on them. And they’re not dumb. These are bright individuals who on the outside seem to have it all together.
As a young child, my mother would complain to me about my father. But when I asked why they hadn’t separated yet, she seemed horrified that it even crossed my mind. I was still so young but I couldn’t understand why two people who clearly hated each other’s guts would remain together. She said she stayed for us kids and that was my first taste of silent blame. It took me decades to unpack that and the rest of that storyline.
When my ex did everything a boyfriend shouldn’t do, I would break up with him. But he would show up the very next day and I would get lured back time and time again. The entire relationship didn’t make sense. I would have nightmares of us getting married. I clenched my fists during sex. He’d use me then leave me hanging whenever his no good friends would show up. He would drag me to dangerous situations and charm my mother every time the illusion of him would start crumbling.
So yes. Not only did he silence me, he silenced my mother. He was so good at it that on my birthday table just a few weeks ago, she still asked about him. Happy Birthday to me.
I hated that I felt so trapped in the relationship but every time I made a bid for freedom, I’d somehow find myself yanked back into the blackhole of regret.
When I look back at the ghosts of my past, I can’t fathom how I allowed all the maltreatment disguised as love to fester and breed. But when my ex-husband messaged me, all the power and insight I had learned over the years instantly shattered into pieces, and I was but a small being again. Unable to easily say no. Say no I did, but it took courage and help from a friend.
Justin Baldoni who stars in and directs the film It Ends With Us has been very vocal about the subject of domestic abuse. It’s unfortunate that the rest of the cast seem to be extremely tone deaf promoting the movie as a rom-com and showcasing line after line of products that have nothing to do about the realities women face in intimate relationships. One of these products happens to be a line of alcohol. You know. The one thing that gives men more courage to hit their partners.
The book itself has been deemed problematic (never read it, nor do I intend to) with the author being a prime example of why social work is failing in the United States. Yes. She’s an ex-social worker romanticizing DV. Did I also mention that her son has been accused of sexual assault and she stands behind him? Yes.
Now. Back to the real message.
You see, the first question we ask is: “Why do women stay?”
Heck. It’s a legit question. Why do we stay? Why the fuck did I stay? Why the fuck did I allow it for so long? And not just with one man. Why????
But Justin during promotion for the film begs us to ask a different question: “Why do men harm?”
This truly made me think. 10 years ago when I started my healing journey, I was re-trained to think from a survivor’s perspective instead of a victim’s. When I work with a client, I was trained to have compassion, but to always bring responsibility back to my client. “Why did you stay?” “Why did you allow it?” “What’s the worst possible scenario if you left?” “Why don’t you believe you are worth more?” “Where did this originate? What is your first memory of being treated this way?” “How does it serve you to remain? What pleasure do you get in being the victim?”
Our behaviors enable our surroundings. We too are responsible for how others act toward us.
Bringing the focus back on the client shifts their perspective, making them realize that they CAN do something about their situation. They CAN take control back. They CAN drive their own lives.
However, what I have sometimes forgotten to do is ask: “Why do men harm?”
And when we find out, two more questions arise:
For us women, is it good enough reason to excuse their behavior? Should we now stay?
And for the men, is your reason much bigger than yourself, unable to make new choices? For how much longer are you going to continue harming?
It’s disappointing that the movie didn’t get to show the struggle women face when trying to leave a toxic relationship. We don’t just up and leave after the first a-ha moment. It takes months and in most cases, years for us to finally make it out. There’s an entire carousel of back and forth from believing the lies men tell us to somehow finding the strength to walk out that door only to be hauled back in once more. Hypnotized by words that made it seem like it was all our fault. Enchanted with promises to be better, convincing ourselves that this is what love is.
You see. There was love there once. We stay because we remember how it started. We stay hoping to return to how it once was.
When I was younger, I assumed you needed a black eye to be considered a domestic violence victim. Many of my clients had no idea they were in abusive relationships until I spelled it out for them. Although I felt violated, I didn’t consider myself a victim because my exes never hit me.
But surely my hollow stomach and protruding bones could attest to that? My STIs could attest to that? Surely my journals could attest to that? Screenshots of taunts and suicidal threats could attest to that? The long trail of fund transfers could attest to that? Photographs of drug paraphernalia when I was struggling to finance us both could attest to that?
I have since learned that there are many forms of domestic violence and women need to wisen up to each and every one.
- Physical Abuse
- Emotional/Psychological Abuse
- Sexual Abuse
- Financial/Economic Abuse
- Digital/Cyber Abuse including Revenge Porn
Although I was economically the more capable one, I found it hard to walk away. My exes made me feel responsible for the air that they breathed and leaving them would be considered cruel. Well, that’s what they told me anyway.
And what about the women who are 100% dependent on their partners? How would they survive on their own when they had been reliant all along? The fear of the unknown might be much scarier to navigate than the fear of their man’s control.
Let me repeat that: The fear of the unknown might be much scarier to navigate than the fear of their man’s control.
From all the people who have claimed to have loved me, the only person I can say I believe to have truly done so is my father. Until this very day, the one person who has loved me so deeply and unconditionally has only been him.
He loves me for who I am. Who I was. And he’s proud of who I have become.
He loves my flaws. My quirks. My fangs. My sorrows.
He beams at my strength. The choices I’ve made. My disregard for certain things and my love for others.
He’s the only one I know, who loves me for me.
And if you know me deeply, you’d know that’s a tragic irony. Because my father has hurt me. My father cemented many of my fears, my traumas, my troubles. He taught me what it is to never rely on a man – a lesson I wish to unlearn. Because being able to healthily rely on man is a beautiful thing and that was stripped away from me at such a young age.
And maybe that’s why I’ve recreated my father in my relationships. Maybe on a subconscious level I wanted to fix him, I wanted to fix us, and still get that love in return. No matter how shaky. No matter how unjust. I wanted to learn what it was to completely trust and surrender. Feeling safe in loving someone with my full capacity knowing it will be returned in kind.
…
From my mother I learned to stay. And from my father, I learned that love hurts. It cheats. It’s volatile.
I’m not asking for 100% safety, security and comfort – there’s no growth in that. But while tension is necessary to create deeper foundations of love, trust and magic, I also wouldn’t want to subject my nervous system to ever fear a man again.
Working with abused clients, I have gathered that many of us stay because we survive on hope. We survive on our delusional version of love. Loving the people who hurt us because that’s what love is, isn’t it? Many of us don’t believe there is anything better beyond this. No one else is going to choose us. Because we’ve been taught by society that love hurts. Right? Love hurts, right?
It ends with us.
If you know anyone, or if you yourself need someone to talk to, head over to any of the following:
NCMH Crisis Hotline (24/7 counseling hotline)
www.ncmh.gov.ph
1553
Luna Legal Resource Center for Women and Children
https://www.facebook.com/lunalegalcenter/
(082) 306-5761
Gender Watch Against Violence and Exploitation (GWAVE)
https://www.facebook.com/GWAVEPhilippines/
(035) 422 84 05 | +63 915 259 3029 | +63 999 576 6679
Women’s Care Center Inc. (WCCI)
https://www.facebook.com/wcci.manila/
+63 999 577 9631 | +63 920 967 7852 | +63 917 825 0320 | (02) 8514-4104
ING MAKABABAYING AKSYON (IMA) Foundation
https://www.facebook.com/Ing-Makababaying-Aksyon-IMA-Foundation-131515322286/
(045) 323 4750
Philippine Commission for Women (PCW ) / Violence Against Women and Children (VAWC)
https://pcw.gov.ph/violence-against-women-helplines/
Leave a Reply