Give Her A Voice

I read a poem today that really stood out to me. So many women are stuck in a situation where they feel uncomfortable, unsafe and unloved. Battered women, women who are physically, sexually, and emotionally abused find it difficult to leave. Whether they are dating, married, the daughter, sister; it doesn’t matter, its not easy to get away. Some situations make it harder, but everyone is equally traumatizing and wrong. I was in one my whole life and could not get out, but used to pray constantly for a way out. I used to dream about running away or sad to say it, being kidnapped (how tragic and wrong, I think back now and I’m glad I wasn’t). I am glad that I didn’t run away and that I wasn’t kidnapped, because I believe my life was to go the way it went so that I could be here at this moment writing this blog, encouraging others through my journey of abuse and rape. I would not have taught preschool and met my lifelong friend. I would not have met my husband or had my two beautiful girls. Yes, I suppose I could have gone on another journey but I don’t think I would have wanted it that way. I actually, like to share my story, although at times its more difficult than others, I know its helpful to many(and healing for me).  So, why do we stay? I’m not sure and I don’t even think we are even sure ourselves. I think that we’re afraid to leave, afraid that if we leave we’ll be followed, afraid that if we leave we will not find anyone else to love us because well, if we were abused we must not have been worthy enough (which is NOT true) the one who abused is not worthy. Everyone has a right to a decent loving relationship; one that is beautiful, caring, fair, and appropriate. If you know someone in such a situation, show them love, show them you truly care, and try to help them leave. There are many resources out there. It’s not easy to leave but it’s possible. I was blessed enough to have a grandmother to help me move out on my own, to get away. I was quite independent. But the key to helping is love, time, patience and a good ear to listen. Help her get her voice back too. Help her to Talk and Be Heard. #TalkBeHeard

 

 

Here is the poem:

I Got Flowers Today
(Dedicated to Battered Women)

angel

I got flowers today!
It wasn’t my birthday or any other special day.
We had our first argument last night;
And he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt;
I know that he is sorry and didn’t mean to say the things he said;
Because he sent me flowers today.


I got flowers today.
It wasn’t our anniversary or any other special day.
Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me.
It seemed like a nightmare.
I couldn’t believe that it was real.
I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over.
I know he must be sorry.
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today!
It wasn’t our anniversary or any other special day;
Last night he threw me into a wall and then started choking me;
It seemed unreal, a nightmare, but you wake up from nightmares;
And I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over—but I know he is sorry;
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today!
And it wasn’t Valentines Day or any other special day;
Last night he beat me and threatened to kill me;
Make-up and long sleeves didn’t hide the cuts and bruises this time;
I couldn’t go to work today because I didn’t want anyone to know—but I know
he’s sorry;
Because he sent me flowers today.

I got flowers today!
And it wasn’t Mother’s Day or any other special day;
Last night he beat me again, and it was worse than all of the other times;
If I leave him, what will I do? How will I take care of the kids? What about
money?
I’m afraid of him, but I’m too scared and dependent to leave him! But he
must be sorry;
Because he sent me flowers today.


I got flowers today….
Today was a special day—it was the day of my funeral;
Last night he killed me;
If only I would have gathered the courage and strength to leave him;
I could have received help from the Women’s Shelter, but I didn’t ask for
their help;
So I got flowers today—for the last time.

By Paulette Kelly

ã Copyright 1992 Paulette Kelly
All Rights Reserved

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