Hero - Lora F.

This past school year, our daughter was asked to write a poem in her High School English class. Deciding to write about domestic violence in a relationship, she sees things from both sides. This can happen whether you are a man or a woman and everyone has part. According to the author, the title is based on a David Bowie song. (Excellent taste in music!)

Hero

It’s OK

To stand on a wooden pedestal

Wiping tears from your eyes

Dramatically telling your tale, about your abusive husband

(You are a hero)

I extinguished the villain like a candle

(It’s not every day that a hero commits an act of depravity)

He deserved it

Plus he has an habit of being an harbinger

He also was an reticent man

(Or did I ?)

It’s OK to cry

you are distraught, remember?

Try to swallow your pride

Tell the nice officer what happened

What have I done?

(He’s gone)

There’s red, sticky blood on my hands

He’s gone for good

( You killed me)

I couldn’t help it

(You made an awful choice in committing murder)

Something possessed me

That something is in me

That something is white and... warm?

No like, blazing heat throbbing in my body

Blazing orange smoke curls out of the dragon's snout

His breathing is noisy, like someone snorting with pressure

He along with many creatures, has lungs and a pulsing heart.

His heart throbs like a bass

No. Don’t back away!

Move

Move

(Steady your breathing)

Time to slay the beast

(Alright, this is my chance to escape)

My shadow crouches behind the door

Knife in one hand,

Fist shaking in another.

A flash of silver makes a loud swish noise

My husband has been rightfully killed

In my prison, my husband, the warden tosses, and turns noisily

I don’t know how many times he has taken away my textbooks,

my pencils

And my notebooks

Lately, we have had the Law Enforcement arrive on our doorstep

We screamed each other hoarse that night

Kicked me in the thigh

(Slapped me on the cheek)

Gave me an ugly purple and black bruise

(Pushed me  down the stairs)

( you  splashed boiling water on my  face)

He snapped my legs in half

Even pulled my hair

Bruises, bumps, and scrapes have become the norm

It used to be different

We used to go to social events

We used to go to church

We were a lovely couple

He stayed home while I worked

Surely I would save him time and energy from working hard.

Then the booze arrived in our lives

He picked up bottle after bottle

I never dared to even sip  a single drop

( Actually, the both of us got intoxicated)

I am the hero after all.

I was sexually violated in my room

( You were intoxicated, and you drunkenly gave me  your consent)

Did I?

Since I didn’t give him my consent, and in my altered state, he took advantage of me.

(Or was it the other way around?)

When I came in exhausted, my husband would act like he didn’t care for me

(I DID care for you)

(Remember, I  gave you flowers and lovingly pecked you on the cheek?)

( What a perfuctionary move)

I had to take my anger out on somebody

My husband stood in my way

I punched him in  the stomach

I kicked him in the groin

I thrashed him against the wall

(  It was domestic violence, why didn’t I ask for help?)

He didn’t even flinch

Even better, he didn’t react at all

He just froze like a deer in head lights

He also was white as a deer

He crumpled into a piece of paper

We had to go to the ER when he started to bleed

(My favorite part of the trip is where I had to lie about where I got those injuries)

It’s pretty obvious: Women are physically incapable of causing domestic violence

(Lately our fighting has become more violent)

(Should I be worried ?)

(Nah we will talk about it later)

We don’t argue very much

We are young

I was 28 and he was 25

When we do, we took a walk in the forest nearby

(Later we ate at a Japanese restaurant)

Slurp warm noodles with pale wooden chopsticks

(Gazing at each other)

( We keep  getting lost in our eyes)

We haven’t lost our innocence yet

Our wedding day is  a metaphor for my innocence being lost

( I have been in  many relationships, and out of those girls, I realized that she would be the perfect match)

Pearly white dress with clear heels walking down the aisle, like something out of a fairytale

( I was wearing a hand me down from the funeral director)

My dress is  new

(Dusty pure black suit with flakes on the cuffs)

I had a dozen bridesmaids

Some are my cousins, and a couple of them are my friends

(At least my mom, dad, and my estranged brother are here)

He and I will spend the rest of our life together!

( Or will we?)

I look at him in disgust

At 22, I love him

( She is very controlling)

He tells the truth

( She tells exaggerated stories

Almost an vacillate person)

He has a bit of an anger issue

( She hit me on the shoulder on the second date)

Please. I can give him more than a lousy college scholarship

( That scholarship was for Harvard)

Besides, what can you get out of a College scholarship?

( A very promising scholarship to Harvard)

I will give him something even better;

(Oh yeah?)

I’ll give him our version of a wonderful future.

- Lora F. 

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Scaling Back My Dreams, Domestic Violence and Forgiveness

I always tell this story when speaking about my career path and my time in film school. I took a practical approach to finding work after college. Originally, I had enrolled at Columbia College with a major in directing. About a year into my studies I decided to switch majors to Cinematography, because I felt as though it would be easier to get a job out of school. I was right about that, but I didn’t realize this was the beginning of myself scaling back my dreams.

This scaling back of dreams happened often, and it seemed to be rampant in my 20’s. Each time I scaled back, I knew a little bit of me was dying. I wasn’t sure if I could ever get that back. What I have come to realize through Al Anon (a support group for family and friends of alcoholics), therapy and spiritual work, scaling back my dreams became an outward projection onto everyone I have been around. I would hear, “How are you going to make that career?” “You make so little money.” “It’s not a real job.” Those voices were actually my thoughts and became motivation to make more money and prove people wrong.  My shadow side was beating my true self, even though paradoxically they were gunning for the same goal. Success, but at what cost?

This cost was my part in a failed marriage. It started with false promises of big dreams for me and us. As weeks, months and years went on I scaled back and she saw this. This became a central point of conflict and was a place every argument would go no matter where it started. This scaling back was driven by fear and that fear was easy to tap into. From job to job no matter how much money or success I had, the fear was there and it was strong.

This is where my codependency really took hold. According to Melody Beattie, author of Codependent No More, “A codependent person is one who has let another person’s behavior affect him or her, and who is obsessed with controlling that person’s behavior.” I easily became obsessed with controlling her behavior through monitoring what I said and any information I gave so it wouldn’t set off an argument. This was no way to live, but I did it for years. This only fueled our volatile relationship. It became my part in it.

I was in a haze and I felt like I was living two separate lives. One with my career and one with my wife. It was exhausting. Near the end of our relationship I was running on fumes creatively in my job, and I slept in a separate bed at home to avoid any late night arguments. It didn’t stop. I gained the courage to finally start calling the police where things got really physical. She even called at times. I reached the end of my rope and moved out in the midst of her battle with alcoholism. I needed space to breathe. A safe place for the boys and myself. I supported where I could and took care of the boys the many times she was in recovery. It was a cycle, and I had to break it.

My hands are not clean in any of this and that is my confession. I am not a victim, I am a survivor of a physically and emotionally abusive relationship. I am deeply sorry for my part and I forgive her for everything she has done to me or because of my actions.

Now it’s time to heal. Time to scale up my dreams and live the life I was born to live. And so in the moment of breaking the cycle I began a new journey of self discovery. When I met Stephanie I knew that she was on a similar journey. The way we talked and the general understanding that we both had a part in our past failures. She is very much a part of my recovery. Early on in our relationship I began to repeat old patterns. Coming home angry, trying to get her to engage in my self pity. She didn’t take the bait. Thank God! She walked away and subtly encouraged me to get help. I went to Al Anon, therapy and to church. I read, listened and worked on myself. I put up healthy boundaries around places that put me back in a place of codependency.  And now here I am. It’s not easy, but it feels right and I am slowly getting back on my path, and this is where the real work begins.

- Andy