Victim or Warrior
I would like to begin this writing by asking of all of you: "Are you a victim or a warrior"? I know that most of us would pubicly say warrior of course, yet many of us are truly victims of situations and people, sometimes our own partners, spouses or lovers. It is so easy to say that we are a victim but not our fault. It is easy to blame and shame the person or thing that vicimizes us but the truth is that we usually have a choice. Sure there are times when we feel like we don't and I respect those women who have been abused by men and truly are victims. There is no question about that. I like to believe that I was victim of a man I lived with and others who pushed me around emotionally or physically. I want someone else to be at fault and not me. I could not see my part in it and how much I allowed it, fed it and acted like an enabler.
Yes, woman being beat up and threatned with her life and the life of her children and family are indeed victims. Some of these wemen are in jail and whether you agree or not some should not be there. These are women who were placed in a position of "it's you or me". They knew in their heart and soul that they could either kill him and save themselves and their family or eventually die at the hands of the person who claimed to love them but would threaten them every day of the week and every night, sometimes for years and years. I think that the govenment needs to keep some of them in jail just because there is so much of this going on that they need to make examples of some of these women by locking them up for the rest of their life or long enough to make it seem like justice.
The man who beat these women down had families who loved them of course. Abusive men have families who love them and fogive them, especially if they are now dead. Their question is: "Why did she just not leave my son"? The fact is that they had no idea the amount of abuse and fear their son subjected one woman and her children to. I would advocate for the forgiveness of the women who found it neccessary to save themselves from death because they were made to believe they would die as well as their kids.
As I said before I like to think I was a victim. My father left me when I was six years old. My mohter had mental health issues and was somewhat abusive. I was in a relaitonship where a man pulled a knife on me and offered to kill me and then married to a person for ten years who would remind me that I played "victim" all the time and as often as he could. I was a victim at six. I was a little boy and it wasn't my fault he left me. I lived with that guilt much of my life thinking I'd been the one to make him leave, much like any other six year old would feel if his or her dad left. I stayed in a relationship with an alcoholic for four years unitl he offered to kill me and broke every window on my car. I felt like a victim for a coupld of years because of my illness of cancer. But in the end I allowed the abuse and the ignorance. At times I fed it and enabled it. I could have walked away at any time. My family was not being threatened to be killed. I had no excuse for staying except compassion and the hope that something would change. I would tell myself I was a warrior but each and every time a person would abuse me I would hold on anyway. I did not even know what I was holding onto. Now I think that what I was holding onto was the thought of love. The illusion of a perfect connection and that there would be a cure of it. I was letting myself believe it because the alternative seemed scary and cold and dark: being alone.
Yes, woman being beat up and threatned with her life and the life of her children and family are indeed victims. Some of these wemen are in jail and whether you agree or not some should not be there. These are women who were placed in a position of "it's you or me". They knew in their heart and soul that they could either kill him and save themselves and their family or eventually die at the hands of the person who claimed to love them but would threaten them every day of the week and every night, sometimes for years and years. I think that the govenment needs to keep some of them in jail just because there is so much of this going on that they need to make examples of some of these women by locking them up for the rest of their life or long enough to make it seem like justice.
The man who beat these women down had families who loved them of course. Abusive men have families who love them and fogive them, especially if they are now dead. Their question is: "Why did she just not leave my son"? The fact is that they had no idea the amount of abuse and fear their son subjected one woman and her children to. I would advocate for the forgiveness of the women who found it neccessary to save themselves from death because they were made to believe they would die as well as their kids.
As I said before I like to think I was a victim. My father left me when I was six years old. My mohter had mental health issues and was somewhat abusive. I was in a relaitonship where a man pulled a knife on me and offered to kill me and then married to a person for ten years who would remind me that I played "victim" all the time and as often as he could. I was a victim at six. I was a little boy and it wasn't my fault he left me. I lived with that guilt much of my life thinking I'd been the one to make him leave, much like any other six year old would feel if his or her dad left. I stayed in a relationship with an alcoholic for four years unitl he offered to kill me and broke every window on my car. I felt like a victim for a coupld of years because of my illness of cancer. But in the end I allowed the abuse and the ignorance. At times I fed it and enabled it. I could have walked away at any time. My family was not being threatened to be killed. I had no excuse for staying except compassion and the hope that something would change. I would tell myself I was a warrior but each and every time a person would abuse me I would hold on anyway. I did not even know what I was holding onto. Now I think that what I was holding onto was the thought of love. The illusion of a perfect connection and that there would be a cure of it. I was letting myself believe it because the alternative seemed scary and cold and dark: being alone.
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