#teendatingviolence

Sorry for the long breaks in between! I work at a domestic violence agency and this month is Teen Dating Violence Awareness Month as well as Black History so I'm very busy working with the youth and educating our schools about Healthy Relationships.

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. 💜

Domestic violence is prevalent in every community and affects all people regardless of age, socio-economic status, sexual orientation, gender, race, religion, or nationality.

According to the CDC, 1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men will experience physical violence by their intimate partner at some point during their lifetimes.

Help is available @ 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

Text "START" to 88788

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

thehotline.org

Washington Psychological Wellness:

(Photo: Me with my besties Sarah Torna Roberts (left on big pic) and Melissa Wilmarth (center on big pic) over the years)

GUEST POST: Sarah Torna Roberts (aka my best friend) on being the friend when your bestie’s in a bad romance:

There’s one thing I’d like to get straight; I did not ever wear a polo shirt and khaki shorts in high school. While I freely admit that my fashion choices were mostly the result of copying those less challenged than myself in this department (or borrowing clothes from Heather), I wasn’t that bad. When I read through an early draft of Bad Romance, that was the only critique I had of how Heather chose to represent me in the character of Natalie. Upon voicing my discontent, she reminded me that Bad Romance is fiction. Oh. Right.

 You see, while the story is made up and the characters have been changed enough to (undeservedly) protect the guilty, the spirit of the book is absolutely truthful to that season in our lives. Reading through the scenes, both happy and heartbreaking, I was transported back 16 years and felt every fear, moment of anger, grief, and yes, ecstasy as if it wasn’t that long ago at all.  

 While Heather lived through the trauma of abuse, I watched. Honestly, her portrayal of me in the book is far less pushy and annoying than I really was back then. I took every opportunity to rake her abuser over the coals, to beg her to break up with him. I even stopped being her friend for a while, I just couldn’t watch anymore. But that didn’t last long, because Heather and I have always been soul mates and even the immense power of that despicable boy couldn’t keep us apart for long.

 In the end, I learned to be a little quieter in my disapproval, but tried really hard to make sure she knew I’d do anything she needed when the she was finally ready to break up with him. And I prayed. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I couldn’t beg her anymore, so I begged God. I pleaded with God because I didn’t know what else to do and because I was scared. That’s the thing I remember the most from those years. I was so scared.

 I always felt in my core that given enough time, he’d destroy her. That’s what abusers do. All the abusers I’ve known in my life have possessed a knack for finding women with immense talent and heart, and vulnerability. And then they systematically use their gifts and love and wounded places to tear them apart. That’s exactly what he did, but thank God, he didn’t get to finish the job.

 Heather got brave. She ended it. And a few days later, when he showed up at my house where Heather and our other best friend were living for the summer, I answered the door with my foot pressed against the inside bottom edge in case he decided to push his luck. I told him he couldn’t see her. I told him he could give me whatever message he wanted, but he absolutely wasn’t going to talk to her.

 Heather stood hidden around the corner and honestly, that was the moment I was most proud of her. Before that day, she would have given in and given him an inch before he took a mile. But she stayed put. She didn’t give in. She let me slam the door in his face.

 I don’t have a lot of words of wisdom, I’m afraid. If you’re the Natalie who’s watching your beloved best friend continue to live in the clutches of an abuser, you’re in for a world of hurt. It’s hard to watch someone you love live that way when you know, even if they don’t, that they don’t deserve anything close to what they’re going through.

 But you have to stay. You have to watch. You have to play witness.

 That’s the thing I don’t regret. I don’t regret staying, however imperfectly I did so. I’ll never understand what she went through on a visceral level, but I was there. I know what events took place and I know what they did to her. I know what he did to her. That’s worth something. When she questioned herself, I could come alongside her and say, no, you’re not misremembering. He really did do those things. He really did put you through that. He really is a monster.

 Even all these years later, I think there is something valuable in having someone else who can read the pages of Bad Romance and knows what she made up and what she didn’t. I hope it gives her strength.

 That’s really your job, you know. It’s to love and stay and be strong, because she (or he) can’t right now. I know it seems like she should be able to, but she’s not and if you love her, you’ll stay strong in her place for a while. You’ll keep telling her the things she needs to hear. You’ll let her push you away. And then you’ll come running when she calls. You’ll jump into action when she’s ready; you’ll get her away from him. And then you’ll stand in front of her if need be, and you won’t let him near her.

 You’ll also screw up sometimes. I was so incredibly obnoxious and self-righteous back then. Drinking and sex and even sneaking out were so far off my radar that I seriously gave her hell about them. I employed every guilt inducing method I could to make her see the error of her ways. Heather was so kind to me in the book. She didn’t include any of my angsty and egotistical speeches. But trust me, they happened. Obviously, they didn’t help.  In fact, they probably only served to isolate her more.

 In hindsight, you’ll regret these moments. But you know, it’s all part of the cycle of abuse, of trying to deal with something so unmatchable. Remember that you love your friend and you’re doing your best to help her. Give yourself a break and then give her a break. Apologize when you need to, and listen more than you talk. Stay on the phone as long as she needs. Even if she’s silent. Eventually, the space to breathe will make her feel the safety of your friendship.

 As I said earlier, it’s been 16 years. That boy is long gone and Heather and Missy (the 3rd member of our trio) and I are still here. We’ve weathered college, marriages, babies, illness, even death. We’ve stood by each other, we’ve hurt each other, we’ve worked toward forgiveness. We’ve valued the deep history of our friendship, and we’ve honored it well.

 I think our staying power is rooted in those early days of sticking together and refusing to let the darkness of abuse win. No matter how far down he pushed her, she always looked up. Your friend will too. Be there to pull her up and out. She can’t, and shouldn’t, do it alone.