PAST: Living at my parents home, everything seemed normal. Looking back now, I realize how a lot of things I carried with me might have been normal on the outside, but the context within was not.
Bruises are normal. Being sore is normal. Swollen, reddened eyes are normal. Being aware and very cautious of your surroundings is normal. Being scared is normal. Being angry is also normal. Finding excuses to hide away the shame you carry is normal. Lying is normal. Trying to survive everyday is normal. Right?
From the time I could remember to my teenage days to when I left home, I thought I had it easy. And I did to a great extent. I always had food on the table. I always had the stationery I needed for school. Sometimes, there would be lots of fun and laughter like everything was okay and things were getting better. But mostly, my mind would be racing with thoughts like: “Why can’t I go out with my friends? What excuse should I say to my classmates when they see this bruise? Fuck, how do I make my eyes look like I haven’t been crying all night? I don’t know how I am going to concentrate in school, they were fighting all night. I wish I didn’t have to go home. I wish I could run away. I hate that I have to see the person who beat me black and blue and verbally abuses me everyday. I can’t get the picture of them threatening me with a knife off my mind. I can’t stop thinking about the times I felt that it was my last day on earth while my head was being banged against the wall. I wish I didn’t have these flashbacks. Maybe they are right, no one is ever going to love me or care for me, I should stick with them. Maybe, I was born to be treated this way. I have to protect my brothers and fight for them.”
PRESENT: I am glad I don’t live in that environment anymore. I still have some of those thoughts and flashbacks that put me in state of anxiety, then panic, then roller coaster straight down to hell where I forget that I am more than a victim or a punching bag. There are days I feel empty and numb, wondering if being a punching bag was my true purpose, wondering if that would help me feel again. Everyday, I am learning to fight those thoughts and feelings healthily. It was only a few years ago, I realized that I would rather be poor than go back to that environment and depend on them. I was very broke and I was close to being kicked out of my house, and going hungry to not go over my credit card limit. But I was happy. Albeit I was ashamed to talk about my situation which lingered in my mind all the time, whether I was with my friends or alone. I was happy and felt empowered to not have to depend on them. It took me a while to not be afraid to be loved because I associated being loved with being harmed, as a threat to being alive, and being enslaved. In University, I started meeting new people, made amazing friends, and learnt that I could be loved just for being who I was and not because I was an object for someone else’s benefit, as I was told growing up. I found mentors that guided me in a healthy way, who made way for amazing opportunities for me to grow. I will forever be grateful for their guidance. I learnt what it means to be genuinely forgiven for mistakes, being part of a team, being appreciated, and just being another human. I started growing and changing positively through all the constructive feedback I was getting from the community around me. I became someone I never thought I would become. I fell in love with myself, my friends, and with my community. Everyday, I feel more and more human.
FUTURE: I don’t know what the future holds but I sure know that it will be challenging. Presently, I am trying to understand the past and positively heal so that in the future I can continue to connect and give back the love and compassion that the community has so generously given to me. Even though I have broken a lot of the chains that held me back, there are some that I am in the processing of breaking. I am not worried because I know that in my future, I will be free.
Compassion. Community. Culture. 