"Mommy, why don't you and Daddy like each other?"

I have never been very good at hiding my emotions.  I've often had people tell me my facial expressions make it easy to figure out what's going through my mind at any given time.  So just imagine how I am for the few minutes I have to be in the same vicinity as my children's father twice a month to drop off and pick up K and J.  It's near torture to remain civil but I try my best, for the sake of my children if nothing else.
Unfortunately, there have been times when I have not been able to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself.  There have been times, I'm embarrassed to say, that I have argued with my ex in front of my children and kicked myself later for my lack of self-control.  I allowed the urge for me to let him know he is no longer in control of me, my moves, my thoughts, my feelings, my LIFE...I allowed that urge to overshadow the need to keep it together for the sake of my children.  I want them to have happy memories of their childhood, even if the structure of their home is unconventional by society's standards.  Watching Mommy argue with Daddy in the parking lot of McDonald's is not the type of memory I had in mind.

After the last confrontation a few weeks ago, in which I have to say I did my best to stay calm and did not say any bad words (rude gestures out of my kids' line of vision don't count, right??), K asked me with tears in her eyes why her daddy and I don't like each other.  My heart broke for her.  Just the thought of my parents going at each other the way she has seen her father and I do on a number of occasions crushes me.  I can't imagine how a 9 and 8 year old would feel seeing that.

At that moment, I knew something had to give.  And after almost 6 years of single motherhood, I have finally come to understand the best way to avoid confrontation...ignore him.  We rarely speak to each other anyway; our preferred method of communication is text messages.  Unless a text comes through that specifically relates to the well-being of K and J, I ignore it.  It's just better that way.  Since employing this simple yet effective approach which has also been embraced by Mely over at one of my favorite blogs to follow, Sex, Lies & Bacon, I have found there is much less drama between us.  And when we have to be around each other to pick up and drop off the kids, I choose to say my hellos and goodbyes to K and J inside the car rather than outside.  That way, they should only see Mommy and Daddy smiling at them as they come and go, not saying hateful things to each other.

Who knows?  Maybe one day I'll be in a place where he and I can have a civil conversation with each other, filled with respect for each other's feelings, and the urge to show my independence will stay below the surface.  Only time will tell...

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Reasons Women Stay in Abusive Relationships...and Why They Shouldn't: #2

I Don't Want My Children To Grow Up Without Their Father

I'll be honest.  This is the reason I stuck around for as long as I did.  My parents have been married to each other for 43 years.  They're amazing.  They have always been there to provide whatever my sisters and I needed, whether it was great advice, a wake-up call or a kick up the backside!  They have always been there TOGETHER.  So when I married and started a family, I never dreamed my children would have anything less than what I had as I was growing up.  Because really, who enters a marriage with the intent to divorce and raise their children in a "broken" home?

I certainly didn't.  And to this day, it pains me that my children are growing up in a single parent home.  Although single parent homes are sadly becoming more and more commonplace these days, it still hurts me to see other kids fortunate enough to have both parents come to their soccer games, school plays, dance recitals...and sit together without being forced to!  I think most of you know that's not possible for my children's father and me.  I hate that my children will never experience that.  But it is what it is...

The reality is, staying in an abusive and unhealthy relationship takes a toll on you emotionally and in turn adversely affects your children.  If you are unhappy, your children can sense that.  I will never forget the petrified scream that came from my daughter's tiny less than 1 year old body when she saw Mommy's arm being held a little too tightly.  Or the uncertain look on my baby boy's face when he saw Mommy get slapped across the face in the car.  Neither of them knew how to process what they had seen, but they knew something was not right.  I pray that time has erased the memories of  what they saw.

 The long term effects of being raised in an abusive household can range from anger issues, anxiety, depression, bed wetting and sleep disturbances.  Many children of abusive households grow into abusers themselves and repeat the cycle in their adult life.  Clearly these effects far outweigh the desire to raise your children in the same home as their abusive father. 

Fortunately, my children were never mistreated.  However, I knew I did not want my daughter to grow up thinking an abusive household was normal.  And I certainly knew I did not want my son to turn into another woman's abuser 18 years down the line.  These thoughts are what prompted me to make my big move.  If you haven't already, read my post How I Picked Up the Pieces to learn how I made my move and began the process of rebuilding my life.  It's not easy but it's definitely not impossible.

Your children deserve to be raised in a happy and healthy home.  That does not necessarily mean both parents have to be in the same home at the same time.  Sometimes it is more beneficial for the children to be raised in a single parent, happy home than a two-parent miserable and frightening home.  I know that is definitely the case for my children and me.  I am a much more effective parent to them now than when I was carrying the stress of my situation around with me 24/7.

I pray these words have touched someone, somewhere in a situation they feel they can find no way out of.  All it takes is one call and you can begin your own, personal pursuit of happiness.  A good starting place is the National Domestic Violence Hotline - (800) 799-SAFE.   For my English friends, click here or call 0808 2000 247.  You can even contact me through my Facebook Page, on Twitter or by leaving a comment below.  You can also email me from the blog home page.  I'm happy to help in any way I can.  Just please, make a move before it's too late.

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Jamaica, the Beautiful...America, the Privileged

As many of you know, my parents’ native country is Jamaica. After raising myself and my sisters in England, they moved back “home” about 6 years ago. This summer my kids and I were blessed enough to spend 10 days with them and loved every minute of it!

Usually when people I know visit Jamaica, they stay at the usual tourist hotspots…Montego Bay, Negril, Ocho Rios. They are warned to stay within the walls of the resort for their own safety. As beautiful as the resorts are, I feel that they do not allow tourists to see the Real Jamaica. Yeah, you’ll see the clear blue sea and sandy beaches. You’ll see Jamaican citizens working in the resort and hear their sing-song patois as they call out to you to buy t-shirts, wristbands or other souvenirs.

But what don’t you see? You won’t see where they live, where they shop and how they get there. You won’t see the bumpy roads they travel to get to where they need to be. You won’t see school children in their brown and blue uniforms walking to and from school. You’ll never know that children go to school in shifts rather than all day like our children do. You won’t see grown men and women standing on street corners begging for money to buy ice cream to cool down from the intense Jamaican sun. And you’ll never see cows and goats crossing the street, and the cars that slow down to let them pass just like any other pedestrian.

During my trip I was able to see the Real Jamaica. I’m not going to lie, some of it was a little scary.  Seeing people step into the street in front of my dad's car without looking both ways made me a little nervous for their safety and ours!   Being asked repeatedly to allow my son to ride a donkey on the beach was a little unnerving. (Those dudes just don't take no for an answer!)

It was also eye-opening.  While watching the children wait for a taxi to take them home after school, I noticed the differences between them and my children.  It's way deeper than the way they talk.  It's in their whole approach to life.  My children have most likely already had way more opportunities than their Jamaican counterparts and my kids have completely taken what they have for granted.  I'm not saying their ungrateful by any means.  It's just a given to them that they're able to do the things they do, whereas the children in Jamaica know they will have to work harder for what they want.  As J sat in my dad’s car listening to his mp3 player and playing his PSP, I watched the school boys staring at him curiously as they walked by. It hurt my heart that there was no connection between them, which is silly really because their eyes locked only for a fleeting moment through the barrier of the car window.  Not like they could strike up a friendship right there and then, right??

This post isn't really in line with the overall theme of my blog but it was on my mind so I decided to post it anyway.  We take so many things for granted here...water, electricity, smooth roads to drive along, access to quality (though expensive) health care...those things aren't necessarily a guarantee in other parts of the world.  I'm determined to thank God everyday for what my children and I have and to not sweat the small stuff.  I encourage you to do the same.

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How I Picked up the Pieces

On October 27, 2006 I made the biggest decision of my life.  For so long, I had thought it would be impossible for me to walk away.  But on that day, I knew I had no other choice.  For the sake of my sanity and safety, I had to go. 

I had been married for a little over 4 years.  During that time, I had changed into a person I didn't even recognize.  My family knew something was wrong but didn't know how to help because I always put on a pretense like everything was fine.  But on that day, I had finally reached my breaking point.  And like R. Kelly says, when a woman's fed up...well, you know the rest...

After a particularly abusive night, though not the worst, I made up in my mind that I was leaving the next day.  I had no idea where I was going to go or how I would deal with the aftermath.  All I could think was I needed to get out of that house before it was too late.  The next day while he was at work and my innocent little babies were at daycare oblivious as to what was about to go down, I went to the courthouse downtown and applied for an order of protection.  This is a legal document that would be served on him and prohibit him from contacting me or hurting me in any way.  If, after being served, he made an attempt to contact me, I could call the police and he would be immediately arrested. 

Once the order of protection was in place, I raced back home and picked up some clothes for myself and my kids.  A friend of mine had offered to let me stay with her and her family until I was able to get a place of my own.  Such a huge sacrifice they made to allow us to interrupt their family life and take care of us like we were a part of their family.  I am eternally grateful to them for all that they did.

I stayed with them for 3 weeks until I found a place of my own.  Having our own little space felt so good! My children and I were free to do as we pleased as long as we didn't disturb the neighbors!  Over time I regained my confidence, independence and self-esteem.  I found my voice once again and learned that it's ok to stand up for what is right for myself and my children.  I realized that my opinion does mean something and is worth being heard and I was no longer afraid or ashamed to voice it when appropriate.

I'd be lying if I said it was easy.  But I'm being completely truthful when I say it is possible to leave an unhealthy relationship and start over.  It pains me to see and hear of women who stay in unhealthy relationships because they feel they can't make it on their own.  I was there once and it is a sad, dark and lonely place.  I want to hold their hand, whisper in their ear of God's love for them, tell my story and inspire hope for a brighter future.  By writing this blog and sharing a little of my story, it is my hope that i will touch someone, somewhere and help them to take that first step toward better days.  So if you know someone who is going through a tough time right now and maybe needs to hear some encouraging words, feel free to pass this post along to them.  It might just be what they're looking for.

Charlotte

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How did I get here??

I've always been an impulsive person.  I'll get an idea in my head and run with it, only to lose interest shortly thereafter.  Over the years, I've learned to tame my impulsiveness some, but I still have my moments.  Like starting this blog, for example.  I've wanted to start a blog for years, but couldn't think what I could write about that could be of interest to others, or maybe even help provide some sort of guidance as we travel on this bumpy road called "Life".  I believe that everything happens for a reason.  The challenges we face do not come by coincidence.  Instead, they are an opportunity for growth, and teachable moments we can use to strengthen others.  So when I think about the experiences I've had in my thirty-something years on this Earth, it might actually be possible that I can share something that might be of interest to others, or even help someone along the way!  I guess we shall see...

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, there were 9.9 million single mothers living with children under the age of 18 in 2010.  I was one of them.  So how did I get here?  It's a really long story, so here's the shortened version...

I was born and raised in Birmingham, England and moved to Tennessee in June 2002.  I married an American man, but the marriage only lasted 4 years.  I chose to leave because I did not want to tolerate his controlling behavior, adultery and physical abuse anymore.  I finally realized and accepted that I would rather be alone and happy than married and miserable, so I left him and filed for a divorce.  Today actually marks 4 years since the divorce became official.  Congratulations to me!

On the bright side, the marriage produced my beautiful children: my daughter K who will be 9 in a couple of weeks, and my son J who will be 8 in a couple of weeks...yes, they are exactly 12 months and 2 days apart... but that's another story for another blog post :)  I'm not sure I want to identify them by name or put their photos on here yet.  I'm sure in the beginning most of the people reading this blog will already know them anyway.  I guess I can decide later on.

What I do know is that I want this blog to be uplifting, inspiring and humorous.  I want it to be thought-provoking and addictive so you'll be on the edge of your seat waiting for the next post.  Well maybe not the edge of your seat, but you know what I mean!  That being said, I doubt I will talk much about my actual experiences of abuse.  Going there reminds me of who I used to be and then I get angry with him all over again for treating me that way, and at myself for not taking more of a stand for myself then as I would now if faced with the same situation.  Instead, I'll talk about how I picked up the pieces after leaving, how I (try to) handle co-parenting with my children's father, and how starting a new relationship makes things even more interesting!  I hope in some way I am able to empower other women in the process!

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