In the arms of a mother

33 years have passed and yet here I am reflecting on the things that brought me where I am today. I am divorced and re-married. I have a child, who believes they are capable of anything.

First and foremost, I know who I am and what I have become today because of my decisions. In all honesty, I believe no one can imagine how I’ve managed to survive as a child, who grew up in a domestic violent environment. 

As an adult who has gone through a domestic violent marriage, I still managed to keep the vow I professed to God. During my mental health evaluation, one of the psychoanalysts quoted, “It’s amazing you’re still alive!”

I am alive because of a friend. He had found me cutting into my arm with my fingernail, which I had sharpened into a blade-like point. After a lengthy talk, he made me realize that I am not the one with the problem. Even if I believed him for one moment, I was not able to accept the fact that was the case.

I would like my readers to understand that I have gone through a lot of self-help classes. I was even put under duress to forgo an exorcism ritual. Even after all of the things listed below, were not enough to reconcile my relationship with my mother:

1. Repenting before God in public view among other pious church members

2. Reading the Bible everyday

3. Actively involved with Christian youth Bible studies

4. Thinking highly of my upbringing

5. Praying everyday

6. Seeking God’s wisdom

7. Testifying my faith to those willing to listen

My mother, the very person I hold near and dear to my heart, hurt me deeply during my childhood and even more still. My love has not changed; yet, she continues to accuse me for being a heathen.

I can see myself moving forward with the realization that I am better than how my mother presents me in public view. I have learned not only from my mistakes, but her own mistakes as well. I’m not trying to self-glorify myself to prove her wrong. I miss the loving embrace she once gave me during my weaning years. The loving nurture she used to envelope with me with before her physical abuse from her husband began.

I knew the reason why I joined the Air Force. I wanted to learn how to be independent. I wanted to be free from the guilt both my parents ostracized me for. I admit I was foolish for rushing into a relationship – especially to a man who deviated away from the Christian church. I got pregnant because I miscalculated my monthly cycle. She can guilt me as much as she likes for living like a whore, which is entirely unfounded. 

I chose to have my child because I knew they are worth everything to me. I refused to abort them despite my mother’s stipulation to do so. I was insulted by being accused as a promiscuous child. The more she egged and announced to everyone at her church about the things I had done to shame the family, the less inclined I was to attend any Christian church. 

Firstly, I did not want to divorce my child's father. I was not given a choice in the matter. He threatened my life. Our relationship became toxic. I had been blinded by my own conviction that he was at fault for causing our relationship to go sour. I realize now that we were both too stubborn to see our own faults and were unwilling to comprise each other's differences.

My child has missed a lot of my marital constraints with their father. As much as I would like to tell them the truth, I was advised by both my father and the Divorce Court Therapist, that no child, regardless of age, should ever have privileged knowledge of marital affairs of their parents. They need me to be present in the moment with them. I’m here listening. This battle isn’t about me anymore. It’s about my child’s future. The decisions I make, whether now or in the future, would not only affect me, but theirs as well. They need the hands and loving arms of a mother; not a fascist dictator.

Written previously 11/15/11
Edited 06/17/2015

Revised 08/30/2022