Love Doesn’t Have To Hurt
Today on the street I met these unmatched ladies,
Their smiles were visible to all,Showing dark secrets
From an inescapable memory,because of the lie they kept telling themselves.
Showing dark secrets,The light was dimming,
They tried to push the pain aside.
They open up to me.
Janet says,”I was beaten by my husband for 25 years. After 15 years of marriage I had an affair (about a year after my husband had beaten me the day after my brother committed suicide) I ended up in the hospital with severe depression after the affair, because of the guilt I felt.
My husband said to me after I got out of the hospital, he should have treated me with no gentleness when we argued, but instead when I didn’t do what he wanted, then he would beat me again. He promised me he would never hurt me again. But he did. Over and over. After another 8 years, I had another affair. I was so needy, just wanting somebody to treat me with respect. Someone who didn’t neglect me. Someone who didn’t break promises. Someone who didn’t blame me for everything that went wrong. I met a man, who became my friend, and he rescued me.
Thepainful part of all of this, because I kept the abuse hidden, people believe I was the one doing the wrong. I wasn’t doing the wrong! I was trying to survive.”
She continues letting out the Barden she has been carrying for a long time now.
She continues — He took away my innocence,My hopes, my dreams and my youth.
He took from me my very own soul.What could have been,I never knew.
His words would cut me deep inside,deep to the very core.Dark and Cold I could not feel.
Why did he hate me so much? (She breaks down)
Hakim crushed me as I screamed in pain.
His words ripped out my heart,the world grew dull I felt insane.Did he ever care about that part?
She sends out a message to the Abuser: “Is that what you wanted all along? “I win!” “You lose!” A game? Control, submission, guilt, defeat .
Yet, I still remain.
It was for a child that I lived Although I rather would have died.
Now, how I thank God for that child!Because of her, I have survived.
I will live in spite of you You no longer have a say.
My Life, My Body, my Mind, my Soul.You will never again have control
Whether in this world or in the next Justice will have a way.You hurt me and you almost won.
But “You Lost!”, I have to say.
A new Dawn breaks of Hope and Peace Of Happiness and Grace.
From me, these things YOU CANNOT TAKE
My head held high, I walk by Faith!” Janet
Sharon shares her story in a unique way.
I would not anyone to go through this kind of experience it is so heartbreaking wallah.
She documents her story in poetry form,I just admire her style and courage.
My whole life,my father abused me.For as long as I can remember, he’d hit me, touch me, and say terrible things to me. I always thought I was alone. I felt like no one felt my pain. I felt alone, scared, and insecure. I always believed that I was ugly because he told me so.
He called me many things and believed everything. He said he loved me, but what he showed me was the opposite of love. He showed me hate, anger, and selfishness. He caused me to try to commit suicide, cut, and starve myself.
I reached out and got help. Today I’m so much happier than I’ve ever been. I’m in an amazing school with a great education, supportive teachers, friendly students, and a loving boyfriend. I wish to inspire others and let them know that they’re never alone. God has a plan for everyone.
Late on the dishes, food still on the plate.
Mommy is mad; Daddy’s home late.
I’m in the corner crying all alone,
Wishing to myself get me out of this home.
I’m always getting beaten, never treated well.
I’m the one child whose life is a living hell.
Thrashes on my back, bruises on my face,
All because I didn’t clean up this place.
I don’t have a bed; cement floor is all I’ve got
Cold walls, no blankets, not even a cozy cot.
Laundry not completed, so no dinner for tonight.
My family all eating, plainly in sight.
Ragged clothes, cold feet I must add.
I know what you’re thinking – you must have been bad.
But that’s not the case, honest to God.
I’m just a misfit, the odd pea from the pod.
I was cute in the beginning, a mistake in the end.
Not allowed to socialize, not allowed to have one friend.
Daddy doesn’t like me; he’s mean – it’s true.
He yells mean things at me for anything I do.
He tells me he’ll kill me, that I’m going to hell.
If anyone asks, he’ll tell them I just fell.
Mommy doesn’t say much, well nothing at all.
I’m not allowed to do anything; I have to lay there when I fall.
Looking all depressed is what I do best,
But trying to survive is definitely a big test.
No child should live the life I have to go by.
Every child should smile and have no reason to cry.
Living in my world is definitely not fun
I guess I’m that lucky child, that very special one. (Sharon’s voice fade away)
We have a problem: People don’t like to talk about domestic abuse.
They don’t want to be involved, even though a great number of people are affected (one in four women and one in six men) .
Anyone can experience domestic abuse regardless of gender, race, ethnic or religious group, sexuality, class, or disability.
Some people who experience other forms of oppression and discrimination may face further barriers to disclosing abuse and finding help.
Domestic abuse also includes different forms of family violence such as forced marriage, female genital mutilation and so called “honour crimes” that are perpetrated primarily by family members, often with multiple perpetrators.
Domestic abuse usually happens in the home,in what may seem like a loving relationship, and is often committed by people we trust the most.
But victims are from both genders – it doesn’t just happen to women. Men and children can be victims too.
And some people may experience domestic abuse from other members of their family.
“Now let’s move on to the subject of how a real man treats his wife. A real man doesn’t slap even a ten-dollar hooker around, if he has any self respect, much less hurt his own woman. Much less ten times over the mother of his kids. A real man busts his ass to feed his family, fights for them if he has to, dies for them if he has to. And he treats his wife with respect every day of his life, treats her like a queen – the queen of the home she makes for their children.”
― S.M. Stirling