Mud On My Face
I was asked recently to teach at the Domestic Violence (DV) Summit. I will be offering a workshop on coming home to yourself, mostly for those who work in the DV field. This got me thinking.
I dated the same young man in high school, and off and on throughout college. I am pretty sure we saved each others lives. We were both teenagers living in divorced households. We spent every waking minute together outside of school and pretty much thought that we needed each other to survive. I think we, as a culture, have chalked this up to teenage love, but sometimes, I wonder. I was looking for something on the outside that I could only find on the inside. And luckily, I learned that young, by the grace of God.
My boyfriend and I were violent with each other. I can remember being on vacation with him, visiting his father in northern California. We visited an orange grove and for some reason, I got pissed. And I scratched his face; right there in broad daylight. He had a huge scratch across his face and the shame I felt when we saw his parents is indescribable. We went to a high school party once (or 100 hundred times, as this seemed to happen at almost every one) and my friends found us outside in the vacant lot next door throwing mud at each other. I was punched in the stomach in college and I pushed and shoved him more times that I can count. Why on earth would two people who "loved" each other, even if it was young love, do this to one another?
Have you heard Eminem's new song Love the Way You Lie? The lyrics are intense.
"Cause when it's going good
It's going great
I'm Superman
With the wind in his bag
She's Lois Lane
But when it's bad
It's awful
I feel so ashamed
I snap
Who's that dude
I don't even know his name
I laid hands on her
I'll never stoop so low again
I guess I don't know my own strength"
And then it happens again. And if you have ever been abused or abusive, it makes sense. How can you think this person is the very air you breathe and then turn around and punch them? I have an idea. I desperately wanted this young man to save my life; to save me from my pain. He couldn't. He was not my higher power, but I didn't know that. So, when he couldn't meet my expectations, I lost it sometimes. And so did he. It is scary when you can love someone so much you think you will die without them. It is insanity. And when we act out of insanity, scary things happen. I was crazy for love, and as sick as this is, the love after the fights filled me up. For whatever reason, I was that empty.
I am sorry to this young person for laying my hands on him. I didn't know any better. When I did, I never did it again. I raged with my words for a while, until I healed some more. I am sorry for that too. I also sobered up, so that helped. And, I apologize to myself. I felt worthless and it showed in how I allowed myself to be treated. I will never forget the look on a friend's face as I cleaned the mud off my own. She was incredulous at how I could possibly allow this to happen over and over again.
I share this because I am talking with too many women, and men, who are addicted to the one their with. They continue to abuse and allow themselves to be abused. The more we fill up with light, the more we know that we do not deserve to be hurt. Nor do we have the right to physically hurt another. How do we help those who suffer with domestic violence? We turn towards the light; a light that will never be overcome by this darkness. A light that will swallow this pain whole if we let it. If you work in this field, or have a daughter you are worried about, turn toward the light. If you don't know what that means, start asking your higher power. And if you don't know what that means, look around at the miracle of life; a force that consistently regenerates and transforms death into newness every day. Ask that miracle of Life for help and guidance. Our partners, no matter if we are sixteen or sixty, will never be our higher power. No matter how much we yell, push and scratch. They will never be. That Love will find us, no matter how dark it gets. And when we turn towards it, we get to receive it.
thank you, jenny
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This hit home for me...being in volatile relationship myself when I was young and naive. If you can mentally get out (which is not easy and takes a long time) its freeing and empowering. Although this 1st love experience was intense, in hindsight, it helped shaped the person I am today - confident, strong and independent.
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thank you. i needed this. <3
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Oh, Jenny, lovely indeed. And what a blessing those relationships were, and the more stable ones of today are, not despite their flaws, but because of them. Always reminding us of where we're looking for someone else to create wholeness for us. Always reminding us to turn back to the inner story and bless and let ourselves be blessed.
Such a lovely dance circle you lead - we don't want to get too sober! When the world can't handle our intensity, the dance floor can. You are a lovely and gifted guide.
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Jenny,
Please continue to do the work you were obviously put here to do and encourage every one to look inward for the light to direct them outward.
All the Best.
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