Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today is a very special day. It’s my oldest son, Marshall, birthday. Fourteen years ago today, after thirty-six hours of labor, Marshall made his entrance into the world. I will say with confidence that I was NOT the one who gave birth. And from that moment, my life was, once again, forever changed.
Our dreams as parents became a reality when our little preemie boy entered the world. And, boy, did he make the sun shine brighter that day. Within moments, we went from sleeping late anytime we wanted to, to now being very protective of this little boy who would call us moms. And now there was a little being that we would literally sacrifice everything for.
Our beautiful little boy name, Marshall Lake Landrum-Arnold, would struggle at the beginning of his life just trying to maintain his own body temperature and learning how to eat and put healthy weight on his tiny, little body. That first year was not easy by any means. And I speak for myself when I say that I was so happy that he arrived. But I was terrified of now being responsible for raising him to adulthood. And I was scared that I would not be enough.
His health scares and concerns were extremely stressful for us as a new family. And for once, I knew what it felt like to be completely helpless and not be able to “quick fix” a situation. But I finally understood the mysterious love between a parent and a child. This little boy, I knew, would change the world even if it was for two lesbian moms.
It has been the most frustrating, difficult, and rewarding job that I never thought possible. Now, fourteen years later, our little preemie is in the throws of puberty. He has a deep voice, peach fuzz, and an almost never-ending attitude. And first thing every morning he hisses and has the most ruthless cause of “bedhead” that I’ve ever seen. But he’s still my little boy.
He was beautiful the moment he entered the world. And he’s still beautiful now. He is the smartest and most caring boy that still loves to hang out with momma and laugh. Now it’s not wanting a bottle and a nap. It’s video games, nerf guns, weird music, a voracious appetite, band practice, books, and a mood swing that is constantly going back and forth. But he’s still my little boy.
We don’t live together now, but he always lives within me. From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep, my thoughts always hold in the recesses of my mind, the many fears of being a parent. You can have many children, but there is only one first born. And as a first born myself, I try to impress upon him the importance about his role as a big brother. He has dreams and aspirations that I watch change sometimes daily.
Happy Birthday to you my beautiful boy! I look forward to many more years of watching you develop and become a man. While also knowing that three moms can raise a son without a man successfully. I love you more than life. And I thank you for making me a mom and changing my life. I will continue to love you unconditionally no matter what path in life you take. Because the sky is the limit for you. Hug your children because they won’t be babies for very long. Thanks for reading!
“In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.”
-Terry Pratchett
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about what it’s like living with Piper. She is finally coming into her own and getting bigger every day. Check this out!
Piper: “Momma help me!”
Me: “What is the problem, Piper?”
Piper: “Tink bit my butt for no reason!”
Me: “Did you do anything to her?”
Piper: “No! She just bit me for no reason!”
Tink: “Piper you cowabungaed my head!”
Piper: “No I didn’t! Fluff off!”
Tink: “What did you say? You little feline fluff ball?”
Piper: “I promise! I did nothing wrong!”
Me: “Piper, the collected evidence shows that you, in fact, jumped on Tink’s head without provocation.”
Piper: “Momma, I’m just a little kitty!”
Me: “And you are responsible for your own kitty actions.”
Tink: “Ha! Ha! I told you, you little snack stealer!”
Piper: “Momma said that I was growing and needed more than anyone else.”
Me: “Piper, I did not! Coco, do you care to chime in?”
Coco: “Hear no evil. See no evil. Speak no evil.”
Piper: “Well, that’s what I heard you say.”
Me: “When, ma’am?”
Piper: “The other night when I was asleep.”
Me: “Piper, that must’ve been while you were dreaming.”
Piper: “Well, you still said it no matter if I was awake or asleep.”
Me: “Piper, you must share your snacks just like you want me to share everything that I eat.”
Piper: “Well, I’m just curious and want to know what you’re eating?”
Me: “By jumping on me and into my plate?”
Piper: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
Thanks for reading! Life with my girls is full of laughs and love. They are my family. Keep moving forward and always spay and neuter you pets.
Affirmation: I deserve every snack and piece of food that I find.
“Sometimes the goal is to just survive, and the memories are a bonus.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about the holidays and family. Don’t worry. It also gives me gas at the thought of the two, once again, colliding.
This should be a happy time for most of us. However, especially in our current political climate, I would venture to say that the thought of interacting with family members who stand on the opposite of the isle makes me want to step out into oncoming traffic. So, this year, I’ll be spending most of my holiday time with the only ones that seem trustworthy, my boys and my cats.
My cats could care less about what the current political environment is like. And they also don’t care whether I’m straight or gay. And unlike some of my family members, all they want to do is spend every waking hour with me. With all of my quirkiness, they just seem to keep scrolling as none of that matters to them.
My boys and I will spend time together during their school break. Activities include burning leaves and wood at the fire pit, roasting wieners and marshmallows, and cuddling in the cool night air while talking about the newest and most concerning issues of being a child. And I will, more than likely, be pummeled by nerf gun bullets sometime during their stay.
We never have enough money to do everything that we want to do. But what we do have is each other. They devour every bit of food available. And at the end of the day, they are my children, and I am their mom. The cats are their sisters. There is absolutely nothing that can compare to that.
By the end of their stay, the cats are tired of being nice and the boys are tired of being nice to each other. And I am, once again, interested in a little bit of quiet time. No matter how tired and irritated we can get, me and the boys experience the true meaning of family. And that’s what it’s all supposed to be about. Not judging someone for who they are versus who they are not. Thanks for reading! And enjoy your time with family in whatever way that takes shape.
Affirmation: I will approach this holiday with the same calm wisdom I use to navigate family debates over the thermostat.
“Trauma Bonding is like being a hostage who has developed an irrational affection for your captor. They can abuse you, torture you, even threaten to kill you, and you’ll remain inexplicably and disturbingly loyal.”
– Ann Clendening.
I posted this today to help give you a voice to your own abuser/abusers. I have been in therapy for many years, and sometimes, I even doubt these words. The problem is that we were so indoctrinated with their beliefs, comments, gas lighting, manipulation, and co-dependency that we formed a something called “trauma bonding.”
Trauma Bonding is an unhealthy emotional attachment that develops between a victim and their abuser. It is a complex issue that occurs in different abusive situations that include physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. But it’s also important to note that not everyone who goes through abuse forms a trauma bond. However, some people may be more prone to forming a trauma bond due to the early experiences as a form of repetition compulsion https://www.attachementproject.com, 2025). This can happen in domestic abuse, child abuse, elder abuse, exploitative employment, kidnapping or hostage-taking, human trafficking, and religious extremism or cults (https://medicalnewstoday.com, 2023).
Characteristics of Trauma Bonding:
· Intermittent Reinforcement: The abuser cycles between periods of abuse and kindness creating a sense of hope and dependence in the victim. Victims of abuse may be waiting for that next “feel-good moment” in the relationship that also keeps them trapped in a cycle of abuse and relief (https://www.domesticshelters.org, 2021).
v This is also how many addictions keep you stuck. If everything were bad all of the time, you would grow tired and leave. But the intermittent reinforcement is how they maintain control.
· Isolation: The abuser often isolates the victim from their support system, making them more vulnerable and reliant on the abuser ((https://medicalnewstoday.com, 2023).
v I was not completely isolated physically from my support systems. But emotionally I was very isolated. He constantly told me that my friends and family didn’t have my best interest at hand. He would make up lies about things they said and assassinate their character behind their backs.
· Fear and Insecurity: The victim experiences constant fear and insecurity, leading them to believe that they cannot escape the abusive situation (https://www.savantcare.com,2023).
v The constant fear and insecurity that I experienced was, in fact, my prison cell. And I was afraid to leave even when the door was wide open.
· Justification: The victim may rationalize the abuser’s actions or blame themselves for the abuse (https://thriveworks.com, 2024).
v I was conditioned to believe that everything I did that made him angry was my fault. And it wasn’t. Now, I can see that his actions were because of his behavior, not mine.
· Emotional Manipulation: The abuser uses emotional manipulation to control the victim’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors (https://wondermind.com, 2023).
v This right here was the #1 key factor for why I wouldn’t leave. He even told me, “No other man would ever put up with the things that I have to deal with in you. All of the good things about you, which aren’t many, are because of me. You are useless without me. I have given you everything you wanted. And disobeying me is the thanks that I get? Why do you need anti-depressants when there is no reason that you should be depressed.
Trauma bonding kept me trapped in an abusive situation. People have said, “Why didn’t you just leave?” The problem lies in the way they you manipulate you into believing that everything bad that happens, no matter how minor, is the victim’s fault. And day after day, their hold strengths without you even realizing it. And in my case, I felt as though I was responsible for their thoughts and feelings. I constantly strived to be “good enough” or “well deserving enough” to see the person that he told and showed me he could be when we met. And quite frankly, it was always just a game. Their abusive self is “the real them.” Believe your instincts and the colors in which they present themselves. For that is who they truly are.
If you have read through this and have never been in a situation where everything you do is being controlled, consider yourself lucky. But don’t you dare sit there and say, “It was their own fault that they didn’t leave.” That is one of the most callous things that you can say to someone who is currently trying to survive and those that have survived finally leaving that situation no matter how long it took.
You have absolutely no right to tell me or anyone else how we should feel simply because you have not experienced it. I stayed much longer than I should’ve. And there are times when I still beat myself up for it. Now though, I give myself some grace for not knowing how to leave or recognizing what was going on in plain sight. It’s not just one event that causes this. It’s something that happens every single day methodically planned and executed by the warden in the relationship.
Once you leave, I highly recommend getting into therapy. Just because you think that no damage has occurred, doesn’t mean that it hasn’t happened. Even now, 19 years later since I left him, I have phobias, anxiety, depression, difficulty concentrating, and difficulty making decisions. He has left a mark that will last a lifetime. And some of the things that he did I’ll never recover from. He once told me, “You’ll never be without me no matter what you do!” And the truth is that, while he still doesn’t have total control over me, I still allow parts of him to live rent free in my head.
The next post will be something that represents those of us who have managed to leave and have an understanding through therapy how and where to put the responsibility where it truly belongs, on them.
To those who are still in these types of relationships, I see you even when you don’t openly identify yourself. To those who have left and still live in fear, I see you and you’re not alone. To those of us who continue to strive to change those hard-core beliefs that were instilled by way of threats, intimidation, and violence, I see you as well. None of you are alone. And not all relationships are like this.
Find a therapist that you trust and open your soul to them. Coach has been a lifeline of compassion and understanding for me that I’ve rarely experienced. And she has never made fun of or questioned why I didn’t leave. Unconditional support and her teachings have made life possible for me many lonely nights. I will probably always struggle with some things and that’s ok. This process is certainly a marathon instead of a sprint. And there is no time limit for healing. The whole point is to continue showing up and moving forward in whatever way that might take shape. You are not on an island like you think. There are millions of us both male and female who struggle with the effects and consequences of domestic violence and abuse.
You are loved. You are wanted. And you deserve the good things that life has to offer. Thanks for reading! And I hope you look for the next blog in a couple of days that I post that will help you begin to find your voice. The power to heal is now and ours.
Affirmation: My story has power and inspiration through it.
“There are no kings in America. Only gilded me we can topple again and again.”
-Aileen Cassinetto
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about our country for a moment. I don’t usually write much about politics on my blog. Social media is quite different. However, we are currently experiencing unprecedented times. Which is causing so much collateral damage that it could take several presidents to undo what is being done if that is even possible.
When my boys come to visit we always talk about current things like school, everyday life, personal wants, “would you rather” and the current political environment. And to be honest, I never thought I would have to explain basic human rights and how those are egregiously being destroyed. And now the decisions of a lot of Americans have put in power a want to be dictator.
I wrote a blog this past month that recently posted about how good we have it in our country. And now I must retract that statement by tell you that the United States of America, the threat to democracy and the very essence of our lives are now being tailored for a fascist society. And the “American Spirit,” which is not a person, is being made a mockery of the founding fathers’ original intentions. Let me break it down.
Our Foundational Ideas
· Liberty and Independence: The freedom to think, speak, and act as one chooses without infringing on the rights of others.
· Self-government: The belief that citizens are the ultimate source of authority and have the right to participate in the political process.
· Equality: The idea that all people are created equal and deserve fair treatment, respect, and dignity, with equal opportunities for success.
· Individualism: The belief that individuals are in control of their own destinies and can achieve self-sufficiency and independence through their own initiative (https:study.com, 2025).
Aspirations of the American Dream
· The promise of opportunity: Anyone can achieve success through sacrifice, risk-taking, and hard work.
· Upward social mobility: The change for individuals to attain a better life than their parents.
· A “democracy of goods”: The notion that everyone should have access to material comfort and goods, a vision popularized in the 20th century (https://www.wikipedia.org, 2025).
I now must again explain to my children how racism, at its core, is just wrong in every way. And how the example of the highest position, in our once revered democracy is being dismantled one freedom and one right at a time. And how if someone disagrees with someone’s way of life, you must not fear and/or hate them. I have instructed my children from day one that people and families are unique individually. And just because of their uniqueness, it doesn’t mean that they are wrong. I don’t care about your skin color, religious affiliation, political affiliation, sexual orientation, ethnic background, or gender identity. However, what I don’t like are bullies. And currently we have a bully in power.
I don’t hate no matter how far left or far right you are on the spectrum. But the idea of hating and inciting violence against someone because they are different is not ok. Do I like people like Charlie Kirk? Hell no. Do I think that he deserved to be murdered based on his views, regardless of whether I agreed with him or the fact that he was a racist and a homophobe, never. But when your whole premise of the stage that you voluntarily inject yourself onto is about treating those you disagree with by tearing them down, bad things are bound to happen. And when political views and votes are more important than lives of our citizens and our beautiful immigrants, our tears begin to fall.
When the president of the United States who has 34 felony convictions, and whose best friends were the vilest child sex trafficker and rapists this country has ever seen, while also having the support of others, it must be discussed and stopped. Jeffery Epstein and Ghislane Maxwell were convicted of some of the most horrible crimes against children. And it has been confirmed that Donald Trump’s name, as well as many others, were also listed in the Epstein files.
As a parent and someone who was also preyed upon by those in power, the only logical decision of our government should be to release the unredacted files and have total transparency. This shouldn’t be a tall order. I see a lot of people online who voted for Donald talking about how evil Jefferey Epstein was. And how pedophiles should be held accountable, unless you talk about the high probability that Donald Trump is also connected to said crimes.
I have never seen so many lies and an obvious cover up by the United States government in my life. I don’t care whose names, whether they be democrats, republicans, independents or royalty, are on the list. They should all be held accountable. And for some of us, whose perpetrators were never held accountable, this is a national symbol of that fight for justice. And just maybe the bad guys get caught in the end and have to pay for their actions that have ruined upwards of a thousand children’s lives.
When you are forced into something as horrific as sexual abuse, your life is forever changed. You will never view the world as “safe” again. You will never look at the average person the same again. And the most intimate part of a person’s life and body are forever damaged. The lies and manipulation that one has to possess to accomplish these acts are more than I can comprehend.
It is my hope and prayer that whoever has taken part in actions consistent with pedophilia, rape and/or the coverup of these crimes will see the day when they are forced to be accountable for everything that they have turned a “blind eye” to. I shouldn’t have to explain why blatant actions have been and continue to be ignored. I shouldn’t have to explain how and why our, once thriving and beautifully diverse country has systematically been sent down the tubes. And is also being controlled by a Russian dictator who is training our orange, “want to be dictator” in the ways of murdering democracy.
My children shouldn’t have to witness and be explained the purpose of “Alligator Alcatraz.” And how funny it is to the hard core “Triple Trumpers” MAGA movement. The only thing consistent are lies, deceit and the many times of the crashing of Grindr by down low politicians. Who are angry because they are scared of authenticity. I shouldn’t have to explain why our country is ok with standing by someone like Benjamin Netanyahu and watching as the genocide in Gaza continues. I shouldn’t have to explain why Vladamir Putin is allowed to continue with the horrific attacks on the people of Ukraine. I shouldn’t have to explain why a dictator across the pond poisons those that don’t agree with them. But here we are.
What I do have to explain are the constant sacrifices of our military service members, who many have laid down their lives for generations, in an effort to make sure that we retain those inalienable rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And how and why the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution was formed. Even though the president of our country clearly knows nothing about said rights which was caught on camera many times. Why “No Kings Day” protests are so important. And how our once love for the “freedom of speech” is being allowed to now be censored.
With tears in my eyes, again, I write this. And the grief of my soul as I watch the sometimes-comical players in this mockery of a democratic government, keeps me up at night. And a lot of times, I laugh to keep from crying. But the videos of children and adults being starved to death is not something that we are accustomed to witnessing. I don’t believe that those who take away the rights of others should have rights of their own.
The tensions in this country of the blatant abuse of power by turning the military on our citizens is uncalled for and scary. And the depths of these fears, I do my best to shield my children from seeing. But they are not dumb. They ask questions and I try to explain them on an age-appropriate level.
I enjoy watching and posting the satire of some of these views. But make no mistake, I will constantly keep at the forefront of our conversations about the importance of such figures in the civil rights movement, Nazi Germany, the extermination of the Jews in concentration camps and the importance of the Stonewall riots. And now, I must explain to them modern day concentration camps disguised as being something “good” for the American public.
People, life as we knew it is disappearing at a rapid rate. It is time for us as Americans to grow a spine and make a peaceful stand against tyranny. And this means doing “your part” in whatever way that looks. No longer is it ok to remain “neutral” as “neutrality” is now a vote for tyranny. You can make a choice to be red, blue or any color of the rainbow. And remember that staying neutral is also a choice. Our country is a collection of diverse groups of people, races, ethnicities, and religions creating One America. The colors that matter the most are the ones who are red, white, and blue.
Thanks for reading! And I hope that you, not only as an American, will stand up for what’s right instead of staying silent to what’s wrong. To our allies across the pond and abroad, your voices also matter. And I personally thank each and every one of you for not allowing the Epstein scandal to go unnoticed. Keep standing for freedom my fellow Americans as will I. And to our diligent immigrants, I will continue to do my part to fight for your right to live the American Dream that most of us took for granted. Thanks for your attention to this matter.
Affirmation: I embrace the opportunities and freedoms in the United States to build the life I deserve.
“If you aren’t silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”
-Zora Neale Hurston
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about some of the behaviors that fit under the umbrella of domestic violence. It wasn’t until I was out of the relationship for a while before I began to see information validating what I always knew. This is not comprehensive list by any means.
COERCIVE CONTROL OR CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR
· Control who a person sees, wears and where they go.
v This was considered normal in my relationship. He dictated everything that I wore. If I chose what I wanted to wear, he would tell me to, “go change. You look ridiculous.” And I was afraid to go somewhere without asking his permission.
· Monitor or track what a person does.
v This was also something that was done on a daily basis. He would call me wherever I was supposed to be and verify it by employees.
· Control a person’s finances, medicine, food, or exercise.
v He always told me that I was not allowed food that he didn’t approve. And I was required to be at the gym at 5:30 am every morning. And he would call and speak with those employees about what type of exercise I was doing. I was also not allowed to spend any money without permission.
· Force someone to have sex or do sexual things.
v I was never given the option to make that choice. I was threatened if I even spoke about that.
PHYSICAL VIOLENCE
· Hitting, punching, kicking, bashing, shoving, or pushing.
Thishappened more times than I can count. He did kick me in the face. But when he and his brother teamed up together, it was worse. The main reason is because my husband didn’t want to say that he participated. And because they always threatened and intimidated me into silence, I never said anything. His brother was his “yes man.” And my husband pulled the strings.
· Spitting on someone or pulling hair.
· Choking or suffocating.
v This typically happened during forced sex. Or whenever his brother would get mad at me, he would choke me as a form of intimidation.
· Throwing things at or near someone.
· Using a weapon.
v This was always pointed at me or laid out somewhere as a form of threats and intimidation.
· Locking someone in or out of space.
v This was often done to show control.
· Stopping someone from eating, sleeping, or having medication they need.
v Every piece of food had to be given an account. One of his favorite things he would allow me to have for a snack was ten olives and ten pistachios. He would come home from work and completely berate me if I weren’t already up. And it didn’t matter that I had just worked a 24-48 shift. He always told me that medication was a crutch. He got mad because I had been given muscle relaxers for a hurt back and proceeded to kick me in the face and throw my medication out into the rain. I was also not allowed to take any psychiatric meds for depression or mood stabilization because, “why do you need anti-depressants when I’m so good to you? And what if someone finds out that you’re taking this? I don’t want anyone knowing that my wife is crazy. Then it makes me look bad. Why don’t you care about that?”
· Forcing someone to drink or take drugs.
v I did this on my own to help deal with being under his crazy world of control.
SEXUAL VIOLENCE
· Touching or kissing someone without their consent.
v I was made to accept his advances.
· Pressuring or forcing someone to have sex or do something sexual without their consent.
v I was told, “Either you give it to me, or I’ll take it. Either way, I’m getting what I want. Make your decision.” Many times, I was bruised or bleeding by the time he was done with me. I had no voice in any matter. He was the “warden,” and I was his “prisoner.” My whole sexual relationship with him was simply RAPE.
· Pressuring or forcing someone to have sex without protection such as a condom.
v I was told early on, “I’m not using protection because it burns my dick. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t put stipulations on how I fuck you.”
*I know this is explicit. However, I want you to get an accurate description of the situation.*
IMAGE-BASED ABUSE
· Sharing private images of a person without their consent, for example images of them undressing or showering.
· Sharing culturally inappropriate images of a person, for example images in which they do not wear items of clothing that they would normally wear in public.
· Sharing intimate or sexualized images of a person without their consent.
· Producing and sharing images that have been digitally altered to suggest a person is nude or engaged in sexual activity.
· Threatening to do any of these things.
*I found out later on that his brother would secretly be filming or watching us having sex.*
EMOTIONAL OR PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE
· Criticizing a person and their choices or actions.
v In his mind, he thought that I was too stupid to make decisions that were considered “correct.” All he ever told me what how stupid and retarded I was.
· Isolating a person form their friends or their family.
v Some friendships I lost forever because they just thought that I abandoned them. What they failed to see was that I would get accused of all kinds of stuff if I disobeyed him. Those who have never been in an abusive situation can’t comprehend losing your power to stand up for yourself. It was just easier to do what he said. Some former friends haven’t even talked to me since that time. And that is about them not me.
· Threatening to harm a person, their family, their friends, their pets, or their belongings.
v He always made threats about things he would and could do with keepsakes or my innocent animals. And if he and his brother didn’t feel that I was getting the picture, they would show up at my parents’ house and start harassing them.
This topic will be spread over a few blogs. As you can see, when I add personal experience, the blog gets much longer. Stay patient and learn from this. It’s a hell that most people can’t understand. And I’m telling you that it’s all true. I was living in a prison without visible bars. Thanks for reading! And watch for the second part in the coming days.
Affirmation: I remember that it is ok to ask for help and receive support.
“Leaving is so hard because your confidence is destroyed. You feel trapped.”
-Unknown
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to talk to you about some common misconceptions about domestic violence. Sit tight. These myths and truths will help to dispel some of the things that you might have been told.
1. Myth: Domestic abuse is a “family matter” and the community should not interfere.
Fact: Domestic abuse is against the law making it everyone’s business.
2. Myth: Domestic abuse affects only a small percentage of the population.
Fact: One-third of American women report being physically or sexually abused by a partner.
3. Myth: Only men abuse women.
Fact: Statistics show that 85% of domestic abuse victims are women and 95% of perpetrators are men. However, men are abused by women also. And the rate of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender communities are at the same rate as heterosexual relationships.
4. Myth: Only low-income families and minorities experience domestic abuse.
Fact: Domestic abuse in every area of society. Most previously recorded statistics are skewed due to the numbers coming from public agencies, city hospitals, police departments, social service agencies, and the courts.
5. Myth: Abusers are violent in all their relationships.
Fact: Most abusers are only abusive to a targeted intimate partner. Some abusers are successful in their professions and are very charming. And this is how they maintain power and control. This was how my ex-husband introduced himself. In front of people, he appealed to many. It was once we were not in front of people that the abuse occurred.
6. Myth: Domestic abuse is caused by mental illness.
Fact: Personality disorders, mental illness, poor impulse control, and generational abuse do not cause domestic abuse. Even in cases where a particular mental illness may cause a person to be abusive, the abuse is not specifically targeted at one person but to everyone around during the episode.
7. Myth: Domestic abuse is caused by drugs and alcohol use.
Fact: Where drugs and alcohol are often associated with domestic abuse, they do not cause the violence. My ex-husband never used drugs and alcohol. He was just mean and very controlling.
8. Myth: Abusers are violent because they cannot control their anger and frustration.
Fact: Abusers use anger as an excuse to rationalize or blame their abusive behavior: anger is not a cause of abuse; it is a conscious choice made by them. I was always told that “I was the cause of his anger.” So, in some way, I was made responsible for his behavior. When in actuality, he is responsible for his own behavior.
9. Myth: Therapy will stop the violence. If he/she goes to therapy, it will be safe at home.
Fact: Referral of a batter to is one of the strongest predictors that a victim will return to violence. However, research on the effectiveness of treatment for batters are inconclusive. What is known is that there’s a 50% drop out rate in these programs by those who do enroll.
10. Myth: Boys in violent homes will grow up to be battered and girls will be victims.
Fact: Not all children who grow up in homes where there is domestic abuse are directly abused or grow up to become victims or abusers. It is important to note that children from homes where domestic violence abuse occurs are at greater risk for all of these outcomes than children from homes where there is no violence.
11. Myth: Even if he/she is violent, it is better for the children to have both parents. Children aren’t negatively affected by domestic abuse unless they are actually abused.
Fact: Witnessing violence as a child is associated with adult reports of depression, trauma-related symptoms and low self-esteem among women, and trauma-related symptoms among men. Child witnesses of domestic abuse on average exhibit more aggressive and antisocial behaviors, fearful and inhibited behaviors, anxiety, depression, trauma symptoms, temperament problems, and lower social competence, than children who do not witness such violence. Youth who witness domestic abuse are more likely to attempt suicide, abuse drugs, and alcohol, run away from home, commit other delinquent behavior, engage in teenage prostitution, and commit sexual assault crimes (https://law.arizona.edu/sites/default/files/myths_and_realities_of_domestic_abuse.pdf, 2003).
I hope that you’ve been able to put some of these myths to rest. From someone who has gone through domestic violence, my perpetrator never though that he was doing anything wrong. And when I presented the need for therapy I was told, “I don’t need to go to therapy because you are the problem.” When the actual problem was that he didn’t want to look at the reality of his own actions and behaviors. And he continues to be that way. Keep reading and stay safe!
Affirmation: I forgive myself for believing I have to stay in the relationship until the person changes.
“Never stop fighting for your freedom, you are worth it.”
-DA Survivor-Anon
Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negativity energy, go away. Today is the beginning of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. This month is when our voices from all over the globe will be heard. We as victims, survivors and warriors bring to light the horrors of domestic violence and the impact that it leaves on our lives and those around us. Let’s take time out for a little education on a few of the topics surrounding domestic violence.
Domestic Violence is a topic that I know a lot about. Well, I know how to function in it. And I know how to get away from it. But living with the aftereffects reveal a whole other set of problems. Where domestic violence used to be seen as something that only happens to women and their partners. There is more awareness on the abuse of men by their partners. No matter how you identify. It also happens to the most innocent, children and pets. This happens in all forms of relationships. And the statistics are staggering.
Domestic violence is violence committed by someone in the victim’s domestic circle. Which include partners and ex-partners, immediate family members, and other relatives and family friends (https://www.UN.org, 2025). The behaviors can include such things as:
· Physical
· Sexual
· Emotional
· Financial
· Psychological actions or threats of actions that influence another person.
This includes any behavior that intimidate, manipulate, humiliate, isolate, frighten, terrorize, coerce, threaten, blame, hurt, injure, or wound someone. The repetitive exposure to violence teaches children that violence is a normal way of life (https://dvcc.delaware.gov, 2025). And for those of us who leave, constant confusion and every minute of no knowing when something else will happen again, is our normal. And the many years of programming by our abusers takes years of therapy to de-program ourselves. But you will never be who you used to be.
Recovery is not for the faint of heart. It is hard and uncomfortable. And it takes years to undo the damage that was caused on so many levels. I was one of the lucky ones. Long story short, I survived. But the mental damage that was caused has left me crippled in some ways. And through the sleepless nights filled with tears, therapy, psychiatric medications, body memories, flashbacks, phobias, and panic attacks, I have learned that I have a voice that deserves to be heard. And no matter what people say or believe, I can validate my own story regardless of the opinions of others. Because I lived it.
The main thing I want to say to other women and men across the globe who are still in their own processes, “YOU ARE NOT ALONE!” Because it happened to me too. Thanks for reading! Keep smiling and pushing forward.
“The predator wants your silence. It feeds their power,
entitlement, and they want it to feed your shame.”
—Viola Davis
When I first begin getting to know someone, the very first thing I look for is their level of snitch. What do I mean by this? Snitching is when you tell on someone to get yourself out of trouble. Another word for a snitch is a tattletale. To be labeled as a snitch socially is to be ostracized. In other circles being labeled as a snitch can get you killed. And snitching is a predator’s greatest enemy because that exposes secrets.
As a small child the term snitching wasn’t used yet. I did know what the term tattletale meant. And what hurting my friend’s feelings and damaging a relationship because of telling secrets meant. It meant people would be mad at me and I would have no friends. Even teachers at daycares can get tired of all the tattling. Step inside any daycare and you’re liable to hear, “The next child that tattles doesn’t go outside and play.” These are two dichotomous examples of telling information. My question to think about is are we teaching our kids the best and safest message? There are always exceptions to the rule. By the time these children are teens there’s an unwritten “code of conduct” around telling information whether it be relevant or not that might save lives. This will also get someone labeled as a snitch.
I can expand more about teens later, however, for the sake of this blog post I’m going to refer to myself as a young child. My first lesson in keeping secrets that should’ve been told was around 5 years-old. I was molested many times by my neighbor’s youngest and middle sons. These boys were around 13-15 years old and old enough to know better. The way I was held emotionally hostage was through threats like “the police would come and I would have my parents taken away.” I was also told, “that I would make people mad and no one would want to be my friend. And it would be all my fault.”
This little girl named Dana would do everything possible to make sure both she and her family was safe. From a child’s point of view, I hung on to every scary word spoken. And afterwards they would tell me how beautiful I was. The searing pain that would burn my body would leave an imprint on my psyche even today. The pain and fear would start and I would leave somewhere in my mind where pain was not felt. Still to this day, I’m very confused in just about every way in regards to having been molested.
People that seek power over other people instill in their victims that telling about abuse is a sign of weakness. As a teenager, anytime I told or tried to tell about the abuse to the school administration this information would get back to the teacher making the abuse worse. The message I got from doing that was to “forget asking for help and save yourself.” After the abuse of my 8th grade year, I vowed that as long as I was around to witness someone needing defending or help I would step in and protect in whatever way that I could. This has bought me unnecessary trouble with coaches and friends but to me it was worth it. I could then lay my head on my pillow at night and sleep.
One night after Mel and I had been speaking to a class at the college, A mother from that class asked me where I went to middle school. I told her Petal Middle School and she asked about the teacher that was so abusive. Because her 8th grade son would come home from school every afternoon with tears in his eyes due to being called names in front of his classmates by a teacher. She told me the teacher she was speaking about and after my heart dropped into my stomach I said, “Unfortunately, ma’am that is who I was speaking about.” She asked, “What should I do?” I told her, “Tell someone and get your child in counseling like yesterday.” I don’t know whatever happened to that mother and her child’s situation. The information I shared with her helped she and her son? However, a big load of shame and guilt was dumped on me as penance for that child and any other children after me that I kept the secret about the abuse ,consequently, leaving the predator unscathed and in the driver’s seat to handpick her next teen victim with ease.
The small little southern city with air tight politics and a nose for people’s business other than their own was to my detriment that year. I was told many years later by one of the administrators that worked there my middle school years information that still burns my ears. I was told, “You were a child at that time and I couldn’t say anything especially due to the politics. But I can tell you now that she should’ve never been around children.” The disappointment must’ve been written all over my face when she saw how perplexed I was. She said, “Is there something I can try to clear up for you?” I stood there for a moment not knowing what to say but burning with questions. “Yes ma’am. I do have a question…..So you all knew she was abusive and shouldn’t have been around children and you let her teach anyway?!” “I was her verbal punching bag and her abuse has affected my education, my career, my relationship with my wife and children, my relationships with others and above all the relationship and image of how I view myself as a human being!” I was mad but I couldn’t stop then tears. She hugged me as we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.
When I went to my own vehicle and unlocked the doors, I sat down and shook my head and said, “They knew the whole time and didn’t try to stop her. Didn’t they know how badly it all hurt? Did they even care? Yes, I fought every way possible to make it through that year in school that still shows its ugly scarring. No matter what adult I tried to tell that year I got no help from the abuse. And “snitching” never did me any favors. Had someone look past the labels and protected me from the backlash of telling the truth about the abuse my life could and maybe even would be much different now. That one year of school affected a few other teenagers in ways that are still damaging to them. The most visible are the scars that line the forearms of those teens with 30 years of thick scarring from the one thing that would listen to us all then…..razors. I also had the experience of eating disorders (anorexia, bulimia), alcoholism, drug addiction that were all there with their arms wide open to help shield me from the unwanted torture of abuse.
The “Code of Silence” protected by perpetrators in a way that I had no defense. And as a very young bride, I would face abuse again for the next 14 years. That “Code of Silence” that was used as an intimidation factor all those years worked. It kept me silent and the perpetrators innocent. I go to bed scared every night and the first emotion I have in the morning is fear. This shame based silence that seen as normal or acceptable is very hurtful. Maybe protecting offenders because of “snitching” isn’t the problem. And maybe listening and helping to protect children and teens when they tell should be handled first instead of politics and reputations.
“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.
Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.
“My basic principle is that you don’t make decisions because
they are easy; you don’t make them because they are cheap; you don’t make them
because they’re popular; you make them because they’re right.”
—Heodore Hesburgh
As I count down another 365 days in my life, I also look back on holiday traditions and 2018 as a year of struggles and lessons. Yep, I’m too lazy to write separate blogs about Christmas and New Year’s. Did you catch that or is it just me? Ha! Ha! At this point, I’m just glad that I still have the ability and “want to” to write publicly about my struggles as an individual, family, therapeutically and as a system. Honestly, my first thoughts about the year 2018 all revolve around my middle finger.
In January, I started my new path alone by moving to Texas. The importance of this decision was realized only a couple of months prior. Mel and the kids needed to live in a place that was familiar and where they could regain their own sense of balance and security that I could not help provide in my condition at that time. And I needed answers and healing from my own demons and dark past. Sometimes life gives you a way out but only for a limited amount of time. Our life in New Mexico had finally come to an end complete with two little boys that make our hearts beat. My mental health issues were becoming increasingly dangerous and the toll it had taken on Mel and the boys was almost irreparable damage. If love was all that was needed to “fix” everything that had been damaged there wouldn’t have been a need to leave. Mel and I both saw the need and the importance of me moving somewhere that answers could be found but only with the right practitioner.
I had set my sights on moving to Texas in 2016 but actually taking that step without Mel and the kids wouldn’t happen until January 2018. This was a decision that kept tugging at my heart. I knew it was the right decision but I didn’t have any way of proving that to make the decision easier to make as a couple. It would be one of those Please don’t be the wrong decision! Please don’t be the wrong decision! moments that was so scary I couldn’t put into words. She and I knew that without long term help of some kind I wouldn’t have a relationship with them anyway. I was just dangerously out of control mentally.
By March life would once again be full of new struggles. My 2006 Honda Pilot that I brought with me on my new endeavors would be totaled in an accident. Not knowing the extent of my injuries I would run to the vehicle that hit me to help the driver as I had done many times while working on an ambulance many years earlier. Once the emergency vehicles showed up and I had returned to the opposing side of the highway where my own vehicle turned its last wheel the searing pain in my neck, back and legs would make its way into a form of uncomfortable permanence. The days of having good medical insurance was left in the deserted high mesa of Albuquerque, New Mexico. And now I was just another American leaning on Medicare for help. I would also soon be driving an 18 year old black leather 2000 Pontiac Grand Prix that would come to be known simply as “The Hot Pocket.” Let the frustrations begin!
Learning who I was as an individual is still a process that I continue to learn about every single day. But I was learning since moving here in January that I had a very large trigger that I had never even considered. In Albuquerque we were left most times to fend for ourselves no matter where we looked for answers. When I moved to Texas I was greeted with a large outpouring of love that most would welcome. I, however, was terrified by all the help that was awaiting. I honestly didn’t know and still don’t really know how to receive help without there being a price for it. I suddenly became very triggered and left a stable living situation only to “couch hop” for the next few months until I looked up and I was homeless. This would mean that I didn’t have the privacy and quiet that I longed and hungered for. No one seemed to understand especially me. Being in public and around people all the time seemed to make me feel like I was boiling in hot water. No matter how hard I tried to accept this form of love and acceptance…I just couldn’t.
My mental health issues soon began to show the ugly faces that I had tried to warn other about and all I could think was “Damn, not here. Not to these good people.” But trying to wish them away wouldn’t happen in Texas anymore than it had worked in New Mexico. I knew that this meant one thing….people would get hurt and relationships would be damaged and lost. I couldn’t stop it. I had seen it 100’s of times and nothing good ever came of it. I just knew what it felt like when it was about to happen. All I could hope for was that it wouldn’t be too bad because this time I was alone without Mel and the kids. I prepared my heart for the worst like I had many times. This time would be no different as I would lose the relationships of those that I loved and admired without even trying.
Physically I felt completely beat down. Mentally I was a hot mess and I now doubted whether this move was in fact the right thing to do. The true reason that I moved here, to do therapy with my new coach seemed to be the only thing that still seemed right. I leaned on the many years of lessons that I had learned from Sarah to help me make the decision again about staying in Texas when I wanted to run because it was the right thing to do….and again I stayed. It wasn’t because I had faith that things would get better. I stayed simply because I trusted her and that she never led me in a wrong direction while she was alive.
Therapeutically, I thought moving here and working with “coach” would be an easy thing to do since I was so incredibly excited to be given the chance. I was excited and I knew without a doubt that my decision of working with “coach” was still the right decision. But “easy” was never in the realm of reality. I had a decorated therapeutic past and it didn’t seem to recognize good or bad practitioners. It only recognized “practitioner” and “position of authority” both which scared me to death. I constantly reminded myself that I already trusted her on some level because I moved here to work with her. But instantly trusting even though I was confident in my decision just wasn’t going to happen.
When I looked at my new life the only place that didn’t seem to bring some form of unwanted and unneeded pain was the hour that I spent with coach in session. Most days the money it would require to afford food was always an unknown. I was not willing to forego a therapy session because for that hour I felt safe even if I was shaking with fear for the time I was in there. I would be scared of possible topics I might have to discuss and I fear her position as a therapist but I didn’t fear her as a person and that meant everything to me. I wanted to be heard and my pain validated and the only place that seemed to happen was when I was in a session because I wouldn’t dare open up to others. Life is hard and society can careless how I feel about anything in the present time much less 40+ years of pain and abuse from my past….but she did and still does care.
Coach knows what she’s doing and I have to continue to trust her. She knew that the only way that I would find comfort is through consistency and compassion. I was sloppy seconds of a very abusive therapist but I was looking and hungering for the help that I so desperately needed. And that my aggressive nature had to have a reason. Before long her compassion began to melt my very tough exterior and tears would form and begin to drop from the years of abuse. Except this time my tears brought about more compassion and validation where, at times, tears were seen as a weakness and more abuse seemed to follow.
August 1st started the “intensive” that she and I would have for a month. That month did a lot for me regarding trusting coach and the therapeutic process as a whole. Before this started, though, I vowed to be completely focus, “nose to the grind” and completely secluded. This was no phone calls except immediate family and my coach and no social media except for blogs and remembering friends who have died. Sometimes solitude is all you need to help regain focus on things that are important. Because in solitude you have no one to look at but yourself. Apparently, this is just what I needed because the changes that have occurred within my system are some that I never dreamed possible for a teenager who was simply not heard. The key to her was something along the lines of a forced hug (not literally) to show her that everyone isn’t the same. And allowing her a voice preferably not a screaming one. Yes that teenager is indeed coachable when others have often thought incorrigible.
Fall time for me brings about some pretty horrible memories and anniversaries. At some point, coach responded to a question of mine “being thankful for what I do have” was the answer. I’ve thought about that every since the day that was said. This fall I would finally understand what she was saying. Now that It’s towards the end of December I can say that I put her phrase into practice by being thankful for what I do have this year despite all the struggles:
I made it to Texas where I was met by an awesome group of people.
I was involved in a wreck and injured but I wasn’t killed.
I ended up back in the psych hospital 2 more times but it didn’t hurt anything but my pride.
I ended up homeless but repaired the relationship with my parents.
I had two surgeries because of my wreck but I’m still walking and talking.
My time in Texas has been a struggle in every way. But….I Still Made It To Texas.
I don’t get to see my boys very much but there is Facetime.
I have several addictions that I struggle with but I’m still here struggling.
I never get to see my wife. She was able to be here several days for my surgery.
I don’t get to spend holidays with my family. Making the sacrifice to live in Texas without them helps to ensure I get to spend the rest of my life healthy and happy together as a family.
I just embarrassed myself and my wife because I “flipped my wig” coming out of anesthesia. What a great education in mental illness behaviors the hospital staff got from me free of charge not once but twice.
Difficult decisions were made and tears were shed because it was the right thing to do. Not the easiest thing to do.
I always think about the holidays when I was little and prior to our family’s matriarch, my Nannie’s death. I can remember the smell of the air and the damp fall leaves, our family traditions and how much they still mean to me. I remember my daddy’s Christmas morning breakfast and the year Sarah and Doug sat at our family’s table and had breakfast with us. I also remember how much holidays scared me when I was married to my ex-husband. The day time hours were fake happiness and gifts. And the night times were criticisms about what I had managed to mess up and how dumb I was. Don’t think for a second that he didn’t criticize my appearance on those days too.
Recently, Mel came to Texas because I had back surgery as a result of the wreck in March. This was the first time she and I had spent any significant amount of time since I moved here. The experience was a disaster for both of us at the hospital even with my limited memory. The embarrassment for me personally has been a lot to bare. But the tears we both shed before her ride picked her up to take her back to the airport because we both love each other and miss being a family were the ones that were the heaviest. I asked her again now that it’s been almost a year since moving here, “Do you think we made the right decision?” We both agreed and said, “Yes.” Moving here was the right decision but it didn’t guarantee things being easy and so far that has remained true. This year has been one of many ups, downs, struggles and lessons…..BUT…….WE STILL MADE THE RIGHT DECISION TO MOVE TO TEXAS TO DO THERAPY…..AND WE MADE IT HAPPEN!!!!
” Today, on her birthday, I am teary eyed about the other woman
who also remembers that today, 43 years ago, she gave life
to a child that is calling me “Momma.”
—Unknown
I must admit that my birthdays for a long time have carried with them a dark cloud. As a child, I remembered them being like most kids’ birthdays. Cake, ice cream, presents and if you were lucky a party at McDonald’s complete with a tour to the store’s freezer just to find out that it was cold. A paper birthday hat and the playground equipment that was fun only in spring or fall seasons because you didn’t dare play on it in during the humid summers of the Deep South for fear of being burned alive by the stifling hot metal. The consequences of being a child playing on metal playground equipment would remind you that next time maybe you shouldn’t.
In my teen years, birthdays usually consisted of The Petal Lady Panther Basketball Classic. Softball season would’ve ended by now and we were well into our basketball season. There were plenty of local “social parties” complete with a bonfire, alcohol and loud country music. I was also busy trying to fill an emptiness in myself that I couldn’t identify. I just knew that emotionally I hurt. I began treating that hurt with any substance or behavior that seem to soothe that pain even a little bit. Little did I know that I was already in the death grip of addiction by the time I graduated high school. The combination of both the physical and mental stress of addiction for a mere 4 years would take the dream of playing college ball of any kind away.
As a late teen and early adulthood, I wouldn’t only see the dichotomy in a person’s behavior. I would often times feel the shift in his behavior before it actually happened. It was also on some of those same scary nights that my birthday December 4th would fall. Apparently, there was an unwritten rule about what men, specifically my ex-husband, were entitled to on any day but celebrations of any kind were a guarantee.
This “emptiness” was now identified as a void. And the void was the one thing that has haunted me daily since middle school….my adoption. The abusers in my life have always made sure that this particular topic’s wounding got a little deeper with their ability to hurt without touching. Each year that passes it makes this time of the year just a little bit more painful. I’ve always seemed in some way to seek out the love and acceptance of my birth mom that I’ll never receive. She, unfortunately, does not have it to give to me to satisfy that insatiable need that never seems to be filled.
In the process of searching, finding and being rejected again and years of abuse I’ve pretty much walled my heart off to most people including close friends and family. Each year it gnaws away at me until the thought of getting close to someone scares me so bad that I reach out and destroy that relationship. Now In my 40’s I walk around with such a thick and, at times, aggressive coat of armor that I run off a lot of people before they get a chance to really know me past my silly sense of humor. Several people know that my birthday is off limits in regards to contacting me. Social media is turned off and my phone is put on “Do Not Disturb” making it virtually impossible to contact me unless you’re here in person. Very grumpy I can be on this the one of the heaviest days of grieving for me all year long.
Coach has the uncanny ability to get me to do “therapeutic assignments” that can have me stomping around like a toddler who was given the wrong colored cup. I have the ability to act just like that when I think my unhealthy ideas are much better and/or more fun. This birthday would be different though. I had to be receptive to her ideas and be trusting enough in her as a person and as a professional for her guidance to be remotely acknowledged on this topic. And by the end of the day after coach stirred the fairy dust and a few of my own tears fell, for the first time in many years when the sun went down my smile didn’t. It was genuine happiness and…..well….it was different but it was nice.
I guess what made the day even more special was celebrating my birthday with our oldest son, Marshall who turned 7 years old yesterday. I never understood how my birth mom felt. I heard the painful words she said to me. But when I laid eyes on our beautiful first born, I’m glad that I don’t know what it’s like to be her. Because I have two beautiful little superhero, “man cub” children that call me Mom and I get to call them Sons.
I can still say with much assurance that the impact my adoption has had on my life has been tremendous in both good and bad ways. There are many tears left to cry on this topic. And much more emotional healing that needs to occur because coach does more than blows a whistle…..she plants seeds.
This Puzzled Life 