Believe Women

Would you believe me if I told you that I struggle with self worth and self love, and that I wish I cared about myself a fraction of what I feel for my children and family?

Would you believe me if I told you that I still clearly remember my mother telling me that she wished I was never born? That some days those words still ring in my ears louder than any words of affirmation and drown out any of my accomplishments?

Would you believe me if I told you she locked me out of the house when she was upset with me, and my younger sister stood on the other side of the door, trying to unlock the door and let me back in? And that I still remember my sister looking through the plexiglass window from inside, her innocent face riddled with sadness and confusion, and we were both crying because we didn't understand what was happening.


Would you believe me if I told you I grew up and married a man who was abusive and full of hate?

Would you believe me if I told you he took my crutches away from me when I was injured and trying to get from my living room to the bathroom? And that he thought it was funny? And that I still remember exactly the way his laugh sounded as I leaned against the pale yellow walls of the hallway and my body shook with grief and rage? And that I had to crawl the rest of the way to the bathroom?

Would you believe me if I told you he said to me: "Why don't you just fuck off and die?!?!" as we were on a road trip to visit his family? And that the flickering street light towering over the entrance ramp and the faded white lines of the freeway were the only witnesses?

Would you believe me if I told you that these memories will never disappear, that they have only faded and blurred a little over the years? That my story is not unusual? That women suffer in silence because they are too afraid, embarrassed, or confused by what happened to them to be able to share their experience?


Would you believe me if I told you this is the hardest thing I have ever had to write, but I want to share it because I believe in the power of truth?

This is my truth.

Believe women.

The one where I make some lists and admit some stuff

My life right now is a shit show. I am not dealing very well with the shit show, so I need to do something about it. To make me feel better, less crazy, more human. In the past, I have tried everything and anything when my life feels like it is being torn apart, little by little, like some cosmic being is plucking petals from a daisy or sunflower or whatever. Even though I cannot see through the swirling shit all around me, age and hard lessons have taught me that temporary relief provided by external sources does not help.

A list of crap I have tried that does not work:

• Try not to feel any feelings
• Overeating
• Purging
• Avoiding feelings at all costs
• Purging without overeating
• Drinking lots of alcohol
• Starving myself
• Exercising way too much
• Overspending
• Avoiding everything and everyone (including my kids, no mom of the year award for me)
• Self harm (see arm and legs)

A list of crap that does work:

• I have no clue
• But I working on it in therapy

During my first semester in college, six years ago, I was given an assignment in a course titled “The Reflective Woman”. My classmates and I were to describe our learning style in a succinct three page paper. I remember laughing when I saw the description of the assignment, because I can easily describe my style of learning in less than three pages. I can describe it in a mere three words: “the hard way”. I have been this way since I can remember. Maybe I am now beginning the work that was outlined in the course, to reflect on myself as an individual, and also on women’s experiences throughout the world. Maybe I will just focus on myself for the time being, and that’s okay. 

Anyway, the moral of this blog post is that I am going to try writing all the crap down that is constantly flying around in my head.  To see if it helps me feel a little less weird or crazy. I might publish some stuff on the blog and I might not. I just need to get it out of my system.

P.S. It's really hard to admit that I ignored my kids. I love them with every single cell of my body but I have not always been present and that is hard to admit. 

P.S.S. Now I am having feelings and my eyes are almost leaking so I am going to post something funny.

That's me, the birthday girl, surrounded by my friends. 

Hard lesson: Don't perm your bangs. Ever. Especially if you have a wicked widows peak and a forehead that goes on for days.