The Entire Neighborhood Found Out
The Girl Child’s new window finally went in!!
When they were taking it out they showed me the spot where the BB bullet had hit the window.
|Can you see the big bowed crack? I kept waiting for the glass to fall out because when the wind would blow, the two broken halves would flex independently of each other.|
|You have to look a little harder to see the crack from this angle|
|There were about 15 of these BB bullet holes in the screen|
|The point of impact|
So the new window is in and it feels good. I was fully prepared for the embarrassment that I was sure was going to accompany the installation; the public, visible, nursing of my wounds in a glass and silicone form.
I was prepared. Prepared and armed with explanations, reasoning, anything that I thought might lesson the intensity of how poorly I was sure that this was going to reflect on me, just like the many times before when I’ve wanted to hide away the truth of what had happened.
To this day many of my friends and family, if not most of them, have no idea of the abuse in my marriage. I was such an expert at strategically placed clothing and thanks to my connective tissue disorder, bruises were easily explained away with a medical reason. I was so ashamed, so embarrassed, and so completely convinced that it was all my fault, that I told no one. Ever.
I took pictures though. I honestly thought that one day someone might find me dead and in the event of that happening, I needed a record of the abuse so that someone would know to get my children away from their father.
I rented a safety deposit box and after leaving a key with a friend, I hoarded the pictures away; mere paper memories holding the tales of injuries gone by.
**Trigger Warning** I’m posting some of the mild pictures below
But today the window went in; a visible display of an injustice against my family. There was no hiding it, no pretending it wasn’t happening. No strategically placed curtains covering the healing from an act of violence.
Today a window went in and a door opened.
“What happened to your window?”
“My ex shot it.”
That’s it. My ex shot it.
Reasoning? Excuse? Rationalization?
I don’t have one, because I don’t need one.
It’s a daily struggle to remind myself that his choices were HIS choices, and that the responsibility of HIS choices can ONLY be owned by him.
I cannot own the wrongful acts of another.
Today though, as my home was healing, my heart was weary, and the neighbors were watching, I remembered; This is not my shame to bear.
My ex shot my window. My ex hit me. My ex raped me.
I don’t owe anyone an explanation as to why that happened and to be honest I don’t have one. Furthermore, I don’t need one. There is nothing that I could have done that would have rightfully put me in the position of being injured. There is nothing that anyone can do that would justify them being abused.
You don’t need a reason for an injustice being done to you and above all, whatever did happen is not your shame to bear. It is not your embarrassment to carry, not your situation to justify, and not your job to explain what happened. It is not and never will be anything that you need to hide, because you, I, did nothing wrong.
Would you be embarrassed if you were sitting at a stoplight and someone rear ended your car? Would you hide away the scratches, refuse to let anyone help you, and pray that no one noticed? Of course not, because you didn’t do anything wrong. The problem begins when the situation becomes emotional; usually at first it’s fear and confusion. “What happened? Will it happen again? Why did I let that happen? Why didn’t I stand up for myself, why didn’t I fight back? What will people think of me if they knew that I allowed this to happen? Wait a minute, was this my fault?” Eventually, thanks to the reinforcement of our abusers, fear and confusion are overtaken by shame.
The emotions that accompany abuse overcome our rational judgment and cloud out the obvious facts of the situation.
Someone wronged you in an unacceptable, inhumane, illegal, and outright horrific way.
There is no reasonable explanation or justification to change the fact that someone abused you.
You were abused and that is the ONLY relevant fact to the situation.
Today a window went in and I gave no other explanation than “my ex shot it” because the details of the situation don’t matter and they don’t affect what the end result was.
You have no reason to be ashamed of an end result that you did not choose.
There is no justification for abuse and you don’t need an explanation for the act carried out by another.
I really wish that I had been able to understand that years ago and I won’t lie and say that I don’t still struggle to accept that sometimes, but I’m getting better.
I didn’t choose this. Abuse is a painful act that is forced upon you by another person.
I refuse to be ashamed of a choice that I had no part in making.
Today a window went in, the public, visible, display of a wrong done against me.
For the first time I let the world see, without explanation, what had happened to me. I was ok with everyone seeing my wounds.
I was ok because this is not my shame to bear.
The actions of an abuser are never the fault of the abused and therefor the abused do not need to give an explanation for the faults of another.
Open your curtains, open your window, you have nothing to hide. Let the light shine in and force the darkness out, for it’s the darkness that hides our secrets; secrets that were never ours to keep in the first place.
The only real secret you are keeping, is the one that you are hiding from yourself;
This was not your fault.