My mother is a survivor of domestic violence.
I specifically word that sentence in that way because she was the primary subject of my father’s physical abuse. But if I scrutinise our situation hard enough, I know that really we were all survivors of domestic violence.
The subject is on the back of my mind almost every day, but recently I went to lunch with my mum and one of her friends. We were partway through our various coffees, smoothies and stew when mum mentioned something about my father. None of us have contact with him anymore – convoluted and entwined issues of health insurance, legal fees and child support have, after many years, finally been resolved. But he still comes up in conversation frequently, and I don’t think that’s unwarranted. Years ago I wrote a short story about our situation and the final line is something that echoes in my head when I think of him because it is still so relevant:
“In the broader scheme of the world he was irrelevant and meant nothing, but to his family he was the single largest and most destructive influence of their lives.”
It is still sometimes astonishing to me that someone who controlled and manipulated so much of our lives meant nothing to anyone outside our immediate family.
When we were at lunch and my mother mentioned something about my father, her friend told her off. She said, “you keep talking about him! He’s gone now. Stop, it’s time to let go.” Sometimes, in periods of immense depression, I think the same thing of myself. Get over it, Move on. It’s gone; you’re free; be better now.
But we’re being too hard on our survivors. How long does it take to move on from such prolonged trauma? Recently I wondered if there was a mathematical equation to the situation: maybe if I’d lived through domestic violence for 20 years, I had to at least have had another 20 years without it to be “normal.”
Comparatively, it’s only been five years for us. And mum has an extra decade prior to our birth to move on from too. So when she’s told to “get over it,” or “stop talking about him,” what’s being asked of her is impossible. I’m not angry at people who say this to her, because I don’t think they understand the situation. Domestic violence is still played down by many as less concerning than other traumatic issues, or “not an issue at all,” as someone once spat at me during my parents’ separation. People will give a sympathy cluck the first week, and then expect you to stop talking about it because it ever again because it’s uncomfortable.
If we are to truly address this issue nationally, we need to go beyond “awareness.” There need to be educational programs and cultural shifts introduced to assist people in understanding the gravity of the situation, and the lasting impact such abuse has on individuals. We need to help survivors and encourage their bravery and their words.
We need to stop telling them to get over it.
monmusings 