disclosure

I don’t know why my newsreader would feed me something from 2009.  Maybe after all this time Google’s finally got enough data on me where it knows me better than I know myself.  I really don’t know.  In any event I paused when presented with this picture of an ad that Amnesty International put out in 2009:

It’s actually pretty clever.  On the left pane of the picture above there’s an image of a man beating a woman.  The ad is actually activated by a camera just above the photo.  When the camera recognizes that someone is looking at it (and after a slight delay) the picture changes to the same couple smiling and making nice, and has a caption stating “It happens when nobody is watching.”

I caught myself staring at this picture after a minute or two.  F*ck if this wasn’t my childhood…  I don’t know why all this started streaming back to me at the sight of this.  Sitting in the corner of the hallway pretending to play with my toys hearing my dad beat the sh*t out of my mom.  Door closed, not seeing anything but hearing everything I needed to.  Frozen in silence to small to defend her, and too terrified to move. 

Could’ve been minutes - every time felt like hours until that door opened, mom making her way to the bathroom trying to gather herself, and dad taking off to wherever the f*ck he went.

How am I supposed to explain that to my kids when they get older?   They’re too young to understand now, but they won’t be much longer.  They’ll need to know. 

“No, Lolo wasn’t that nice of a person back then.” 

I’m tired.  There are so many things going on right now and the stress is pushing me to my limits. Anyway, shouldn’t I have gotten past all this years ago?  I don’t know why I’m writing this.  I don’t know why I’m all worked up right now.  I’m sitting here hovering over the Publish button debating on if I click or not.  Folks who know me in the real world visit here and they have no idea this stuff ever happened.

I’m sorry mom if you’re reading this.  I don’t mean to air our dirty laundry.  Thank you for saving me.  There’s no way I could ever repay you.

 

National Domestic Violence Hotline: www.thehotline.org / 1 800 799 SAFE (7233) /
Questions & Answers for Immigrant and Refugee Women Dealing with Domestic Violence