Yesterday was another first for me. It took just over a year for everything to come together, but last evening I read out loud, to an audience of gathered guests and advocates, a one-page story I wrote for a particular event. I suppose it could be considered an inaugural public speaking address. Shortly after arriving in Kelowna about a year and half ago, I started following Kelowna Women's Shelter's Instagram page. At some point, a post appeared asking for abuse survivors to submit a story, sharing a bit about their lived experience. I commented on the post, saying I was keen, and met with one of the organization's amazing ladies for coffee. After a couple more conversations and back and forth emails, I was asked if I would be interested in reading my story out loud. Without hesitation, I said Yes! The event was titled Stories and Art: No Longer Hidden. Each submitted story (twenty-one in total, all sent in anonymously) was then paired with a local artist who created a piece of art, in their chosen form, based on the words of that one particular woman's story. The planned event would showcase the art and the stories, with a small handful of people performing or reading. For the past couple of weeks, as the event date approached, I diligently practiced reciting my story out loud, in front of the mirror, getting comfortable with the sentences and figuring out what words to emphasize. It was like being back in school and prepping over and over again the words for a presentation or speech. I even practiced out loud while walking in the forest ('cuz trees are always such good listeners!). And then, yesterday arrived. Friday, March 8, 2024 (which just happened to also be International Women's Day). I had been sent the agenda earlier in the month and was excited (and relieved) to know I was to be the first person to come up to the microphone. When I was introduced and my name called, I walked confidently to the front (despite my shaking legs), with my reading glasses and a single piece of paper in my hand. I took a deep breath, looked out at the crowd and started speaking. "My name is Deborah, and I am a survivor of domestic abuse." At specific times throughout the reading, the audience laughed, or nodded their heads, or even cheered out loud. I most definitely had their attention! They were listening closely and my words resonated. At the end, after wrapping up with the final sentence, there was an eruption of applause. I'd obviously made a strong positive impression. A couple of people even said Thank you and patted my shoulder as I walked back to where my girlfriends stood. Today, looking back on last evening, I feel incredibly proud for standing up in front of others and offering my personal spin on what was most definitely a devastating experience. It's been a long road of healing, and taken me ten years to get to this point, but I did get to my intended destination. Even more importantly, I know deep down that my words can offer support and comfort and hope to other women in a similar circumstance. I also feel, not surprisingly, a bit wiped and emotionally drained. Kind of numb, in fact. It's time to go for a walk in the forest and hug a tree. Below is the story that I wrote for the event, followed by the stunning artwork created by the amazing Michele Rule. From The Shadows, Strength Is Found By Deborah L. Wade Who ever thought anything good could come from being a victim of abuse? Or that possibly there was a silver lining for those of us who lived through such a devastating experience? Well, I am definitely not grateful for the bumps, bruises and black eyes my abuser inflicted upon me, not to mention the lifelong psychological scarring, but every single day I stand proudly in front of the mirror, in front of my children, my parents, sister and girlfriends, in front of the whole wide world, and acknowledge the amazingly resilient and strong woman I am because I survived abuse. Over the years, bit by bit, my abuser tried to strip away everything that made me the unique individual I am. He tried for thirteen of our twenty-year marriage to banish me of Me. That’s what abusers do. They chip away at their victim’s self-image, at her self-confidence, at her sense of pride until almost nothing is left. All I had to hold onto in my darkest days was a single thread of self-identity. Delicate and fragile, yet strong enough not to break, this thread provided unwavering fortitude and reassurance that I was the good person I always knew myself to be. From this thread came the strength to endure. Each and every victim of abuse possesses this same strength because, deep down, with fierce determination, we refuse to sacrifice ourselves completely. Even though I had to take again and again what he dished out (‘cuz it never turned out well when I tried to fight back), the fact is I did take it. But, and here’s the beauty of it, I never gave up. I refused to drown in the watery abyss of oblivion. Yes, I was up against a force much more powerful than me, but I am who I am and no one, NO ONE, can take that away from me. Today, besides being happily divorced, I am a woman who knows herself inside and out and is laser-focused on what she wants (and doesn’t want) in her life. I value my self-worth and can handle just about anything life throws my way. Besides being a loving, supportive and always-available mother to my three adult children, I hope my future includes becoming a best-selling author once my memoir is published. Oh, and I don’t take anything from anyone, anymore. I am done with that. Growing up, years before the abuse, I was strong (as my high school girlfriends remind me). Today, after a lot of reflection and a lot of healing, I am stronger than ever before. I share this strength with every other woman in the world who is a victim and survivor of abuse. Let’s stand up together ladies, and give ourselves a round of applause, because we are a remarkable collection of women.
1 Comment
What kind of person am I? Am I the kind that thinks, works, lives inside the Box of Life or am I the kind of person that pushes beyond standardized boundaries and parameters (perhaps also known as limitations)? Am I not one or other but, like most people, a combination of the two? Over the past few days, while I seriously bogged myself down with questioning thoughts about how I am currently trying to accomplish a variety of different life goals, I realized I may be a more 'out of the box' kind of person than I ever initially thought. Let me bring you up to speed on what's been going on since my last post. Two weeks ago, I interviewed for two different jobs. Both the interviews went well, with lengthy and thoughtful answers to questions and a good amount of laughter mixed in as well. Both jobs would have offered me a chance to spread my wings in new directions while effectively utilizing all the experience, talents and skills I've built up over the years. Both indicated that a final decision would be made within a couple of days. Now that an entirely new week has come and gone, I think it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t get either job. I guess there was someone else out there who was better suited than myself. And then, to top it all off, I still have yet to hear anything back from the two publishers I sent my memoir manuscript to (bad grammar, I know). I followed up, twice, with voicemails and emails. What did I get in return? Zip, zilch, nada, which baffles me as they were both so keen and enthusiastic earlier in October. I know I'm not the only author out there who is trying to secure a publisher, and they likely have lots and lots of submissions to consider, but I've spoken directly to them (face-to-face and screen-to-screen) and still all I get is absolute silence. In a need to get away, and work on my overall perspective on life, I flew over to Vancouver Island for a few days to hang out with a girlfriend. Admittedly, I was a bit of a feisty bear for the first forty-eight hours, venting my frustration and rage, along with a lot of less than lady-like curse words. Then anger gave way to deflation, with me questioning everything in my life. Why am I writing this book? Why won't interested publishers respond? Why won't a potential employer recognize the skills and talents I bring to the table? Throughout all of this, I realized, I was waiting for a response from other people. While I'm chomping at the bit to get this memoir of mine published, and get myself out there in front of people to talk about and share what I learned from my life experience (oh yes, and earn a paycheque), I'm left drumming my fingers on the desk, waiting with bated breath for someone else to initiate the next move. Although sick and tired of this particular situation, what could I actually do about it? Then, thanks to a girlfriend of the girlfriend with whom I was staying, a totally unexpected brainstorming session took place. These two ladies filled my mind to the brim (and plenty of journal pages) with all sorts of possible answers and solutions and strategies for relying less on other people and relying more upon myself. They gave me examples of how I can think outside the box and still achieve my goals (perhaps even more successfully than when thinking inside the box!). The long and short was I flew back home yesterday with renewed determination and focus, ready to take control once again of my dreams and goals, and put myself back into the driver seat of my own life. Years ago, while sailing across the Pacific, I had a t-shirt that stated boldly, but in a cute way, You Are Not The Boss Of Me! I'm happy to admit those words still ring true today. ** UPDATE ** Moments after posting this blog, I received an incredibly heart-warming telephone call from one of my interviewers. Although they did go with someone else who had more direct experience for that particular job, I was told that I made a solid impression with them and that I have a skillset that could be beneficial to the organization. They are hopeful of opportunities to work together in the future, just in a more suitable manner. So, there you go! Life is rosy once again. I can't believe it's been ten years. That an entire decade has passed. Staggering, isn't it, the passage of time?
What was the 'it', you might wonder? What happened? Or, what did I do? Why was it such a big deal? Well, on a wintery January evening, back in 2014, while the rest of my family slept peacefully and I lay in bed, wide awake, I did something that changed my life forever. The actual 'it' was a seemingly simple physical task yet, at the same time, it was a monumental leap forward for me, personally. So, what did I do? I typed a word into the elongated oval-shaped Google search box. A very singular, very specific, eight-lettered word. A word that had been floating around in my mind for quite some time. I typed, p-a-r-a-n-o-i-a. From the very moment, the very millisecond, that I tapped the enter key on my iPad keyboard, my world spiralled off in directions I could never have foreseen. The eventual result, later that summer, was me leaving my almost 20-year marriage and starting a new life on my own (with, of course, my three children by my side). Over the past ten years, since first starting my self-directed research project on what, potentially, could be the cause of my then-husband's somewhat questionable behaviour and unique world perspective, I have come a long way ... baby! Today, as I reflect back on all those days, weeks, months and years, I'm staggered by all that I did accomplish. Yay for me! I won't bore you with a long list, or repeat myself from thoughts shared in past blog entries. Suffice to say, I (finally) feel that all my healing, all my tearing apart of the past, all the self-analysis, insight gained, all the tears and screams and moans and groans, all the thousands upon thousands of words typed out in four (yes...four!) evolutions of my memoir manuscript (with Draft #5 already in the works), that all of that has got me to the place I really and truly want to be. This week, I will interview and be considered for three different jobs, in two different industries. And no, neither one involves river rafting or tourism (despite what I wrote in Travels By Deborah last week!). Two of the opportunities are in the writing industry, while the other is in the non-profit sector, specifically helping women who are in, and want to leave, abusive relationships. Can these potential jobs be any more appropriate or suitable? I actually feel that all my hard work has (again, finally) paid off. And, that patience and persistence won out in the end. That today, I am, at last, on the cusp of something new and exciting, and involves aspects of the world that truly feed my soul (like river rafting did). So, stay focused out there. Go the distance. Go after what you really want to go after. 'Cuz, one day, you might just find yourself exactly where you want to be! Happy Sunday. |
AuthorLife comes into focus when hiking on a trail. Nature always provides the answer. Archives
March 2024
|