"You can grow flowers from where dirt used to be."
This is a lyric from the song that I have been playing on repeat for the past week and a half. While I know Kate Nash's song Merry Happy wasn't written directed towards those who have been through abuse, I feel that this lyric fits like a glove. It's something all men and women who have been abused-- by anyone, not just a significant other-- should hear. It's something that gives me hope as I plant my own flowers, my own strength, on the dirt that was an abusive relationship.
I think it's important for all who have been through abuse, those who are recovering, to realize that this 'growing flowers' takes time. After being hurt and broken down, especially by someone you love and/or care about, it is hard. In fact, it can be utterly devastating. It is a journey to get back to what you once were. For myself, it was a struggle over a year, trying to build myself back up to someone I could recognize because at the time I couldn't recognize myself. And it was scary. I planted a seed of hope, protected it fervently even when I was sure it wouldn't sprout and bloom, even when I thought it may never break that dirt. I was scared I would forever be a shell, that I would never be myself again. Thankfully, my seed of hope grew into a lovely flower and here I am now.
Just this week in class, this notion of positivity came to me again. I am an English major-- with a minor in creative writing-- and so I tend to be in classes where we talk a lot about writing. In my class on short stories, we have been reading a fiction collection written about hard times. These stories aren't pretty, the events in them and the characters are all awful, but the writing itself is beautiful. This raised the theory that, theoretically, anything could be written to appear pretty. "Could you make crap beautiful?" my professor asked the class.
"Fertilizer," I said without missing a beat. "It could bring new life." I am an optimist. I have always strived to be an optimist. It is probably one reason I stayed so long in the abusive situation I was in. I thought I could fix what was wrong when, as a child, I couldn't possibly do so. This flower that I'm talking about is my optimism now, the source of all my hope. It was my hope of healing, and now it is my hope to prevent others from suffering the way I did. My optimistic take on my situation is using it to help others, raising my voice with many others in the middle of the #MeToo movement. If I believed things happened without purpose, I'd live in an unhappy place. My view of this world is one where everything is carefully sculpted, everything has a reason, and the reason I experienced what I did is so that I can have a voice on this subject. I can reach out to young men and women, tell them what abuse looks like and how to escape uncomfortable situations, maybe even help them realize that it applies to themselves.
I want to call out to any other survivors to raise your voices with me. And to any victims, anyone who is recovering, you are not alone. As a community of support, we can all rise from the dirt that we were left in to form a sea of beautiful colors, to cushion those who fall and shield those who still have a chance to avoid abuse in their relationships. Remember: the first step to prevention is awareness. The only way people will know is if we stand together and make ourselves known.
This is a lyric from the song that I have been playing on repeat for the past week and a half. While I know Kate Nash's song Merry Happy wasn't written directed towards those who have been through abuse, I feel that this lyric fits like a glove. It's something all men and women who have been abused-- by anyone, not just a significant other-- should hear. It's something that gives me hope as I plant my own flowers, my own strength, on the dirt that was an abusive relationship.
I think it's important for all who have been through abuse, those who are recovering, to realize that this 'growing flowers' takes time. After being hurt and broken down, especially by someone you love and/or care about, it is hard. In fact, it can be utterly devastating. It is a journey to get back to what you once were. For myself, it was a struggle over a year, trying to build myself back up to someone I could recognize because at the time I couldn't recognize myself. And it was scary. I planted a seed of hope, protected it fervently even when I was sure it wouldn't sprout and bloom, even when I thought it may never break that dirt. I was scared I would forever be a shell, that I would never be myself again. Thankfully, my seed of hope grew into a lovely flower and here I am now.Just this week in class, this notion of positivity came to me again. I am an English major-- with a minor in creative writing-- and so I tend to be in classes where we talk a lot about writing. In my class on short stories, we have been reading a fiction collection written about hard times. These stories aren't pretty, the events in them and the characters are all awful, but the writing itself is beautiful. This raised the theory that, theoretically, anything could be written to appear pretty. "Could you make crap beautiful?" my professor asked the class.
"Fertilizer," I said without missing a beat. "It could bring new life." I am an optimist. I have always strived to be an optimist. It is probably one reason I stayed so long in the abusive situation I was in. I thought I could fix what was wrong when, as a child, I couldn't possibly do so. This flower that I'm talking about is my optimism now, the source of all my hope. It was my hope of healing, and now it is my hope to prevent others from suffering the way I did. My optimistic take on my situation is using it to help others, raising my voice with many others in the middle of the #MeToo movement. If I believed things happened without purpose, I'd live in an unhappy place. My view of this world is one where everything is carefully sculpted, everything has a reason, and the reason I experienced what I did is so that I can have a voice on this subject. I can reach out to young men and women, tell them what abuse looks like and how to escape uncomfortable situations, maybe even help them realize that it applies to themselves.
I want to call out to any other survivors to raise your voices with me. And to any victims, anyone who is recovering, you are not alone. As a community of support, we can all rise from the dirt that we were left in to form a sea of beautiful colors, to cushion those who fall and shield those who still have a chance to avoid abuse in their relationships. Remember: the first step to prevention is awareness. The only way people will know is if we stand together and make ourselves known.
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