It was so easy to blame everyone else for my situation. If only my son’s dad would stop drinking, the fights would stop and everything would be perfect. If only my parents came to help me out more my life would be easier. If only I had my own place things would be more peaceful. If only I could win the lottery and all my financial troubles would be taken care of.
At the height of the relationship with my son’s dad, we were fighting a ton and I was in a lot of pain. There were nights that I had to get away from him and would grab my baby and dog and find the cheapest motel room for the night so I could sleep. My final straw was when he wanted to crack open a beer in my car while I was driving and our son was in the back. I refused and I finally put my foot down. I was crying and yelling and probably to onlookers I looked like a nut case. My mama bear rage was in full force and I didn’t care at all about what anyone thought of me at that moment.
My therapist suggested I go to Alanon, a 12 step program that helps families of alcoholics. I hesitated big time and didn’t go until we had this blow up. The closest meeting was not far and I went even though I felt awful. I couldn’t hide my puffy eyes and I was so distraught and sad and defeated. The people there were very welcoming and they even took turns rocking my son.
At the end of the meeting someone said with so much love, “take care of yourself” I nodded and said yes but I realized that I didn’t even know what that meant. I was so worried about everyone else and I neglected myself too. I was in survival mode and struggling badly. On the surface I did my best to keep it together. I maintained my job and I started reaching out for help and support. I found friends at exercise classes and online and they became my support system.
I started to create the life that I wanted even though that wasn’t my reality and things started to get better. There were a lot of ups and downs. I started to tap into my strength and finally found the courage to leave the relationship. I saw how much it was affecting my son and left. I had to reclaim my power and remember who I was and that I was here for a purpose. Not only to be a mom to my son but to also help other moms going through similar situations. I was so glad that I started finding my voice and realizing my worth and it all started when I finally started to take care of myself and check in with myself, notice what I notice and started taking care of me for once.
It’s still very much a work in progress and I like to look back and see how far I’ve come and celebrate the wins even though I'm not where I want to be yet. I’m a work in progress and I’m no longer pointing the fingers but taking a look at what I’m doing and what I can do better next time. Giving myself grace and love helps me move forward and show up for my people.
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Switching the word from victim to survivor was huge for me. When I heard other women tell their story and parts of mine, sometimes I hear domestic violence victims or survivors of domestic violence. I refused to be called a victim and anyone else in that situation. Just hearing that word made me cringe because deep down I knew that’s what I was. I thought the way to earn love was by going overboard and taking care of everyone else but me. I couldn’t understand why they still didn’t love and appreciate me and for many years I was stuck in victim mode.
I wasn’t ready for the transformation from victim to survivor until I finally decided and committed to leaving Damian’s dad. I had to take accountability for my messes and clean them up. I had to get myself and my life together. I had to stop blaming him and the world. I was feeling feelings but was in denial about my part in the situation because I was an angel for pleasing others but really, I was toxic myself. In survival mode, I thought I had to fight my way through life and be bitchy or mean for people to hear me, see me or even acknowledge me. I felt like a new woman but it still wasn’t it. I was just making sure that me and my son were staying safe and did what I needed.
Two toxic parents is not good for a very young child and I knew I had to leave as hard as it was. I knew that Damian had been through enough stress and I had to protect him. I even went to school for child development. More than ever, Damian needed me to remember who I was:I was a child of God, I was an amazing first time mom still figuring stuff out. Thankfully and gratefully I found people that loved me before I loved myself and I could finally start giving myself grace and being better than I was the day before.
Damian’s Dad had to take care of himself and figure out his stuff on his own. At the time it was super tough to leave because I didn’t want my son to come from a broken home. I was embarrassed and really harsh on myself. I let the opinions of others affect me for way too long, not wanting to make anyone mad at me.
Now it’s been about 5 years since then and I've gone from victim to survivor to now winner. It was a journey for sure. I’m still learning and growing as I go and now I'm helping other moms remember who they are and give them hope, encouragement and inspiration.
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