To mark the beginning of Domestic Violence Awareness Month and as part of our Light Up The City event and It Takes A Friend campaign, one of Between Friends’ clients has submitted the following account of their experience.
When I was a child I learned very early that the things that go on inside of a home should never leave. Those perceived boundaries were created and reinforced whenever there was fighting; raised voices were lowered so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, and smiles concealed tears if company arrived.
Stay quiet.
Smile to conceal pain.
Convince outsiders that everything is normal.
When I left my abuser I shared my story with friends, family and trusted members of my community. I was hugely empowered by the immediate and unconditional support I received.
Until the cracks started to form.
First it was whispers…
”He is the nicest guy, I can’t believe he would ever do that”
“It’s really just a he said, she said”
“I don’t want it to be awkward so I will talk to him at social events”
Then it was disconnection…
Invitations stopped coming, text messages ceased and the phone grew silent.
I watched as my community backed away slowly. The more that I shared, the more distant they got.
I mourned the loss of my marriage, my family, and life as I knew it. To then shoulder the burden of social isolation was devastating. If you ever doubt the validity of a survivor’s story, simply ask them to share it with you. I had finally found my voice but nobody wanted to listen.
IPV/DV is a difficult and painful subject. Discussing it can reveal our own repressed traumas. It may force us to look at past and current relationships in an uncomfortable way. I am shocked every single day at how unwilling we are as a culture to sit with pain and discomfort. Abuse is not an individual problem – it is a systemic disease. If we don’t address it openly it will only grow. Opening up the door to that conversation can be incredibly healing.
While I no longer found solace in my community, I sought out groups where I could safely share my experiences. I visited Between Friends – a community of trauma-informed, highly-educated, and diverse advocates. I joined their support group where we discussed patterns of behavior, abuse cycles, self-care, and healing processes. We shared our stories and found safety together.
I found a community that recognized the pain of apathy and inaction.
I found a community that validated my fear triggers and emotional responses.
I found a community that understood the cycles of abuse.
I found a community.
My greatest trauma was not enduring my abuser. It was the social isolation of a community unwilling to talk with me about it.
If you’d like to support the counseling program at Between Friends, take a moment to donate here today!