Most of the people who know me, probably know the story. From the very start, I share my life experiences so easily like it was a mundane thing. But now that I'm putting it out not just for my friends to read but for the whole world to see.
This move of my mine was inspired by a video of Jennie Willoughby, who was verbally and physically abused by her ex-husband, a former White House aide. In the video she shared how the media wanted to know what happened, when it happened and how it happened but never how she was able to move on from the abuse.
I may not give enough justice to the details I'm about to share to you but I want to make this move and reach out to those people who have experienced the same thing to tell you that moving forward exists in a world who only wants to know the gruesome details of how you were hurt and not ask you how you moved on from it because it's much worse than the abuse itself. Why? Because you didn't deserve it, I didn't deserve and no one deserves to suffer that way.
In 2008, I met someone who I thought loved me and accepted me for who I am. And as a typical teenager who was having this stage of rebellion and creating distant relationship with her family, I became more open to my relationships outside such as my friends and yes eventually, having an intimate relationship with someone who was a little older than me. It angered my family but I never listened to them.
But as time passed by, that person manipulated me, took advantage of my young mind and continued to poison my mind to make myself more distant not only to the ones I loved but also to knowing myself. That individual restricted me from doing things and as teenager who was easily swayed, or stupid like some others say, I just followed him.
Came in early 2010, when the abuse started from gripping too tightly in my arms that resulted in bruises, pushing me off the motorcycle while it was moving and even elbowing me in the stomach (By this time, I was already carrying Mae). It was so hard, but I was prideful to tell someone even my friends. I acted like nothing was wrong and continued to hold onto that relationship because I was afraid of accepting my mistakes. Then came Mae, it all went away for awhile because you know how babies keep us on our feet, make our hearts warmer and forget all those bad things in life? She did it. My family did it. They were the ones who picked me up from it.
By 2011, as I was starting to go to College. The abuse started again. That individual was so scared that I'll be able to walk out from the relationship but hope's of my daughter having a complete family stopped me. June 2011, a week before that incident, my mom asked me "anak, ginugulo ka ba niya? sabihin mo lang, I'll do anything." (Is he bothering you? Tell me, I'll do anything." And I hoped that then there, I told her everything.
I can still remember how I was so glad that prelims was done but when I opened my phone, I started getting messages saying "Bitch, mamatay ka na" (Bitch, you should just die). I got 200 copies of that message that morning. And I replied with one, "Okay, ayoko na sayo. Wag ka na pupunta dito." I thought I was safe in my own home, having my parents just working two houses away, I thought he'll be scared to even set foot in this house because my papa hated him, everyone did. But they just respected me and my idiotic ways.
And then it happened, 15 minutes just after that text message, I thought I was going to die. I was stabbed and the only thing that I wished that moment was for me not to go blind.
Thankfully, my eyes are well now. But after all the hospitalization and the inevitable process of healing not just my physical scars but also my emotional baggage, I was a mess.
And a person with extremely bad luck, I met another individual who also physically and verbally abused me again that lasted for a very long time, and those moments that many people witnessed who comforted me, one person stood out and that Kuya said, "I don't know what happened and I'm not gonna ask you any details anymore but I know you know you're already in a bad place. And I'll be praying that you'll do the right thing." He didn't want the gruesome details, one look was enough for him to tell me that I don't deserve it and labeled me as someone stupid for staying in a situation that I can control.
Control? When you have so much to carry, do you think you have control? When you're struggling to grasp that self-love, dwindling self-esteem and trying to keep up a brave face, do you really think you have control?
Because I knew I didn't have the control to leave that situation. Because when you're battling a situation only you can win, it's an unexplainable feeling and you just have to pray that one day you'll snap and move on from it.
That's the process. It's hoping and praying for the better even when you don't know how you'll move on from it. It's when you try to hold onto something to keep you sane but the people around you asks you what happened but never asks you how are you coping now? Because the process of moving on is realizing that no matter how much the people around you supports you, the only thing that can heal you is yourself.
Some would say, "oh you tell it so casually, your story." Why? Because I want to prove everyone else that these type of abuse, it happens casually. It happens in the moments when you don't realize it until its too late. It happens in times that we choose to ignore it and just try to live with it.
But the story I've written are pointless. Because those abusive moments are over. But the process and moving on from that is timeless, unending even and that's what we should focus on. I'm not sharing this to tell you that I've been abused but to tell you that it is possible to stand up from it even if it takes you a long time, it will come.
The next time you meet someone that was in a really really bad relationship, please don't ask them why didn't they leave early or why didn't they do something about it? Because don't you think they didn't want that? To leave that abusive relationship, to stop it and move on from it like nothing happened? I pretty sure did, but I was there, it still happened and it was traumatizing.
Let's not just focus on what happened to them but how they moved forward from it because that's what's going to help other to move on as well.
0 comments