It That Special Day Called Valentine

He arrives at the door after work, inhand the flowers he bought on his way home. He thinks of the night before, and can't remember what came over him. But he knows the flowers will set it all right again, they always do.

As the door opens, she waits on the other side, her breath held, waiting to see his mood before speaking. There was a fight last night, and he believes it was all smoothed over.  For her, it was another night of guessing, fancy footwork to dodge the emotions of the man she believed she loved. Tonight, the door opens to a smile and "how's my best girl?" After all, it's Valentine's Day, and he wanted to surprise her.

This scene will be played out over and over as husbands and wives spend the evening together. For some, it will be fancy dinners, late movies, dancing, romance, the works. Others enjoy the comfort of home to celebrate their love quietly without fanfare, just knowing all is well, and love exists.

For victims of domestic violence, flowers can be a trigger. Flowers can bring memories of past Valentins filled with fear and forboding. Waiting for the moment when the look in his eye changes, when the flashing smile becomes his tight lips with clenched teeth. Flowers don't always carry the delights of romance and compassion. For some, flowers put a knot in her stomach, a warning in her brain, a fear in her heart.

One in four women and one in seven men will be victims of domestic violence in their lifetime. Flowers won't comfort, and lovely words may be the prelude to a night of accusations and arguments. Together we can change lives, promote equality, and provide safe spaces and a future without violence. Together, we can create a world where domestic violence isn't acceptable and is not tolerated. Won't you join me in building the new world? Contact your local shelter to see what you can do.  We all deserve to be safe.

Week End Observations

What an interesting weekend it was. The sitting president stepped aside and stated he wouldn’t run for another term, and we welcomed a new age for our government when he endorsed a black woman to run.  I will be backing VP Harris in her bid for the highest office in the land.  I feel it is the time and place for women to stand and for our voices to unite in a common goal of saving our democracy and assuring women have true equal rights.  Looking at the other side of the aisle and thinking, those people do not represent me or my beliefs. For some, this will cause friends to leave, families to argue and leave riffs in the family unit.  Not for me, you can believe what you believe and live how you see fit for you.

As beliefs go, mine are simple and straightforward spiritual beliefs. I believe in a higher power. Love is the answer and in the end that is all there is, love each other, hold space for someone who has a different view than I do.  The Golden Rule and the phrase, “First do no harm” live in my heart. I share this because I spent part of my weekend watching Hulu and their documentaries on mega-churches and the variety of cults that have passed through and are still alive and well in many places.

I was watching one such program “The Secrets of Hillsong”, a mega-church started in Australia and then brought to New York City.  I’m not going to degrade or disparage any other person’s beliefs or the way they practice their beliefs.  I will say for me, this isn’t a church it appears to be a rock concert.  I share because I found myself asking this question, when did the worship of God become a three-ring circle?  As it turns out there is quite a scandal around that church.  (You can watch the show to get the scoop).  I remember going to Sunday school as a child. It was peaceful, we sang, our minister shared The Word, and sometimes we would share a Sunday meal. Some people, simply meet in a location, sit quietly, and allow the peace and grace of their God to wash over them. No other words or a person leading them, telling them how they should feel or act, only quiet communal with like-minded people. In the end, we must all choose what fills our souls and brings us peace and comfort.  Some have no religion, no God, and no higher power beyond themselves.   As for me, I’ll pass on the Rock-Star preacher and sit in tranquility with my maker.

You're The Man Now

Watching television and finding a patterner that shows up in families regardless of ethnicity, or religion. After the death of a father figure, someone turns to the oldest boy child and says, "You're the man of the house now. You have to step up."  Young girls are asked to take on extra responsibilities to help the mother get through the day. Stop doing that. They are still children and have enough to be responsible for. They just lost a parent, processing that fact, and worrying about what happens now is enough. 

My father passed away when I was fifteen, and I assure you, processing that, adjusting to a new normal that I had no choice in making was a heavy enough load. My family was changed, and learning to find my place again was all I could handle. My mother was lost; she relied on my father for nearly everything. She was now the primary parent and wasn’t prepared for that role. I had older stepbrothers; however, they didn't live in our home, so I took on responsibilities I was not prepared for, nor did I have enough knowledge about. My younger sister, by only two years, didn't adjust well to me telling her what to do. She became rebellious and, at times, refused to listen to me at all.

Boys came into my life around this time. Again, an experience I was not prepared for. I soon was involved with a boy four years older than me. He became my world. We met in October, and by late April of the next year, I was pregnant, and by June, I was married. Again, another responsibility I was not prepared for. I was now a teen mother and married at age sixteen.

As I look back at that time of my life, a helpful alternative from an adult might have been, "I know you are probably scared and wondering what happens now, knowing your lives will be different, and it's okay to feel scared. We will have to make adjustments, and we can work together to get things done. It's okay to feel sad and cry. Always know you can talk to me and I will do my best to help you."   As parents, too often we think we are supposed to have all the answers. No one has all the answers; it's okay to say to a child, I am a little scared too and sad, but we can get through this. Placing no responsibility, other than those they are already experiencing. Children do not step up to be an adult or have the answers. The loss of a parent does not give them power or knowledge beyond what they already had.

Along with my own experience and working as a LAC (Licensed Addiction Counselor) and behavioral change facilitator for domestic violence perpetrator classes and victims' assistants, I saw firsthand the pressures we place on our children. We fight in front of them or send them to their rooms to listen in the dark to the scary sounds downstairs. We place adult responsibilities on their shoulders; those shoulders aren't built to carry that load.

Regardless of how difficult it may seem for us, the adults, we must bear the responsibility, look for the answers, and let the children be children.

REFLECTION

We often think of this word as searching for healing.  I personally practice reflection every day.  While looking at myself, I strive to be the best I can be. I have learned when I journal, I am able to put on paper what I can’t express otherwise.  At times I save the writing and others are ripped up and tossed. The exercise of putting thoughts down in black and white, and discarding brings clarification and relief for me.

This week my social media feed has had several postings from those in obvious pain. Their words indicate clearly that they are hurting.  One of the best lessons in my twenty-plus years as an addiction counselor, a batterer’s invention specialist, and providing services for victims of domestic violence, there is a common theme “Hurt People; Hurt People”.  When our own pain becomes too much to face, too overpowering to deal with, we do and say things we don’t mean. We lash out, we point fingers, we become defensive, and we hurt the very people we love the most. Unfortunately, when experiencing our own pain, we no longer have the perspective of reality.  We shut down; we no longer hear others, so we can not accept their message of care or reason.  It's my experience, when I write, the message is found by the people who need it most, including myself.

As the AA Big Book points out; Acceptance is the answer to “ALL” of my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation- some fact of my life unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept my life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes. Alcohol can be substituted with almost any extreme action. We become “addicted” to many things and use them as crutches to navigate life. Truth is the only answer.

My truth, my affirmation for today:

I sit in my silence, I breathe in and breathe out, I close my eyes and relax to listen to that voice that is always inside of me, beseeching me to listen, not speak, listen, not let random thoughts confuse me or overpower me. In the silence, the truth can be found. In the silence, I become more open to reality and to acceptance.  My wish for all is the gift of acceptance and peace...

Namaste