13 comments on “Pieces of Me: Through the Dusty Lens

    • Which one? The Remember When post? That was a good one, because it’s talking about throwing the could have / should have / would haves off and not allowing me to torture myself for things I did and decisions I made that brought me to what I endured with Kevin. That’s another thing many of us go through. But it no longer matters *how* I got there and what could or maybe could NOT have prevented the abuse. What matters is I got through.

  1. Excellent words, dear lady. I am proud of you for learning the lesson to love yourself, and forgiving yourself. I, too, know the difficulties of learning to forgive yourself for what you went through. I’m slowly getting there, though. Did you learn the other lesson? The one that reminds you that what you experienced was not your fault? That’s another I still battle on occasion. But, isn’t supposed to be about me, it’s supposed to be about & for you. Once again, congratulations on relearning how to love yourself. That’s so awesome and inspiring.

    • Ah the “it wasn’t your fault” realization! Yes, I did, a while ago, really. However, in the beginning, it was hard. You go over things in your head so much, so obsessively, that it eats away at your sanity. Every little thing you did or said can be made your fault, and it is only with time that you realize that is the abuser’s voice kicking around in there.. NOT yours.

      In the beginning, no matter how many times someone told me it wasn’t my fault, I rolled my eyes incessantly. Every time. After all, it was my decision to be with Kevin, correct? I have learned so much over the past ten months. And as warped as it may sound, I wouldn’t erase what I went through, because without it, I wouldn’t be who I am now.

      And it is about you. It is about all of us, and those who love us and watch us go through it. It’s about those who reach out to help you. We cannot heal without hearing each others’ stories, for they give us all strength and encouragement to continue. To aspire to more. To heal. To live, laugh, and love.

      Yes, it is about you as well, so you can share your story and struggles any time.

      • I’m with you on the not changing anything aspect. Having been with my abuser taught me to appreciate others so much more. It also gave me the impetus (is that the word?) to become a counselor/advocate at a women’s shelter. At that time, there was none for men. Those are still hard to find from what I understand.

        As for choosing to be with the abuser, yep, I went down that road too. How long did it take you to stop defending him? It took me four years after leaving her to stop defending Christine. Oddly enough, that was also around the same time I heard she’d been killed on a highway.

        Sharing my story? How about a link? http://beginingsinwriting.wordpress.com/2013/03/28/christine/

        • I don’t think I made excuses for him too long. He was so monstrously evil and vicious, I couldn’t force myself if I tried.

          But that thing… the choices I made that let to me being with him, that was a more difficult thing to let go. It took a few months minimum after I left to work that issue out.

          As a side note, anyone following the link to the post in this comment, if you are sensitive to language, please keep this in mind when reading.

          I think it is important to share, because it helps dispel the myth that only certain people can be abused, and sharing it takes strength and courage.

          • Whoops. Sorry for forgetting to warn about the language at my link. I tend to forget that some folks don’t like saltier words.

            As for the choices, how many were you aware existed? For example, were you aware at the time, that the way he treated you was not the way that someone who loved you was supposed to? That one was one of the harder realizations for me.

            • Not only was I aware, but even I told him. His response was that I must have been talking to someone, and then I would be punished for speaking out of turn. The choices I speak of were decisions I made that led me to allowing him to move in. This all goes back to the blame game and how much the negative things the abusers forces into your mind twist your thinking enough to the point where you shoulder the blame for everything. Including “getting yourself into it” to begin with. But no one goes into it knowing the abuser is, in fact, an abuser. No one would entertain the thought of see someone again if they just came up to them on the first time out and punched the in the face. We were all deceived and manipulated to the extent they needed to so they could let the monster out of the closet.

              My hangup was “how could someone so smart get herself into this?” “How could I not see it coming?”

  2. HOLD YOUR HORSES, MISSY: The first thing I noticed about this post is that it seems like you’re criticizing yourself for criticizing yourself. I’m happy that you’re moving toward a place of loving and accepting yourself because (1) that’s so important and (2) you’re so wonderful.

    On an unrelated note, I love all the pictures in this post. You were an adorable kid.

    • J-chan,

      Am I correct to assume that you are criticizing my criticizing being too critical of myself? LOL What I was saying was that it was an unhealthy amount. It was relentless, to the point of being unloving and cruel. Some measure of criticsm can be a good thing, because it motivates us to try to improve. However, there reaches a point where it become overtly destructive to our self esteem and the value we hold for ourselves, which is what I was really criticizing. It was a level I would never even consider exposing any other human being to, and I shouldn’t have done it to myself. 🙂

      It is important to accept myself as I am, because I *am* pretty awesome, and plus it makes it easier for Kerwyn to tolerate me! 😉 Also, I cannot argue about being cute when I was a child. I don’t really look all that different now, except of course, I did grow up…. a little. Although, when I get uber-excited about something I think is a.dor.able, I tend to be Japanese schoolgirl about it. And once you witness this, you are never quite the same! 😉

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