A couple months ago I was speaking with one of my cousins. She wanted to ask me a question, but she was nervous to ask. She wasn't nervous to ask because she thought I would blow-up on her, but she was nervous of my answer. If there is one thing that can be said about me, it's that I hate lying and liars and I do all I can to tell the truth. I could hear it in her voice that she was struggling but I encouraged her to ask. She quietly asked me this question. I was crushed.
My heart was racing, and I felt a pit in my stomach. I didn't feel these things because of the question but because my little cousin was scared for me. I have always been a person that will protect those I love. When I struggled with anger in my teens and early 20s, I would confront any and every one that was disrespecting a loved one. I had been pulled away and forced to calm down on many occasions. There was a time at the McDonald's drive thru where the cashier was speaking to my son in a way that was unacceptable, and I proceeded to let her have it. When my daughter was going through her cancer treatments, her doctor was speaking to her in an unacceptable way and I respectfully, spoke up and let him know that he will not speak to her in that manner again. My mother said I get that from my dad, the sense of upholding right over wrong. I was a protector.
Being in an abusive relationship causes changes. I still believed in right from wrong, but I had to use most of my protection to protect myself. Survival of the fittest and what not. I did the best I could to protect my child without rocking the boat. I did not do a good job. I was also not doing a good job of protecting myself either. After years of this behavior, I believe I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome and then I would try and protect the person that was being abusive to me. The irony was that every time I made an attempt to stand up for him, he would take that time to belittle me. He would say how I always want to cause drama and that I should stop always trying to cause drama. There even came a point that I would be blamed for things that I never did. I asked about a legal question and was told by my abuser that he couldn't talk to the lawyer about it because of what I did. I asked what I did, and the response was that I called the lawyer and went off on him. I hadn't done that and when I said I never talked to the lawyer and instead of owning up to the lie I was told you said you were going to call the lawyer. I responded I did call but I was not able to speak to him so what are you talking about you can't talk to him because of what I did. I was then ignored. The lies flowed freely and once confronted, the emotional punch of being ignored would follow if there was no verbal way to bring me down.
When I was injured, I needed a protector from the person that was supposed to be my protector. I asked another of my little cousins to stay with me for as long as possible because I knew he could handle my abuser if the need arose. I was crushed. I saw in his eye's fury and sadness and freight for me when he would inevitably, have to return to his own life. Those 5 weeks allowed me to sleep. I wasn't supposed to need my little cousin to protect me, I was supposed to protect him. Initially I felt like I hit rock bottom. The truth is that I was in such a high place because I was surrounded by people that didn't feel burdened to offer their protection. My bestie, my mom, my kids, my cousins and my aunts and uncles all have shown me they are willing to protect me. I am grateful for all of the participants in my village.
Eight or so years ago, my son was about 8 months old. He got ahold of the remote control and not having great control of his arms, he began flailing them around and caught me in the face. I almost instantly got a black eye. I didn't think much of it. I had just let my locs down for the first time since starting them and I posted a picture on my Instagram feed. My cousin saw the picture and decided that she would photoshop my black eye. At the time I told her that my son accidently got me with the remote and we both gigged about it. Once I was injured and I was no longer hiding from my reality she asked if my son truly got me with the remote. I assured her that the story was a true story. I could hear the relief in her voice, and I knew she could not hear the sadness in mine. There were other incidents that I did lie about and one day I will go to those I lied to and ask for forgiveness and hope that their trust in me will still be intact. I haven't processed so many things, so I don't talk about what I have not dealt with. I am healing and going through the process so I know one day I will have processed and will be able to talk about it but until I can only hope that those people don't put 2 and 2 together and ask the question that I can't lie about based on me protecting my abuser. I know what's done in the dark will come to the light, but I pray that I am already fully standing in my light when those dark things surface.
Either way, I will tell the truth. I encourage you to tell your truth when you are able.
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