<-insert Xena's warrior cry here->

I need to talk about just how messed up I was up until not even a year ago.

It amazes me that I could be an inspiration to other people, such a help to other people, while simultaneously hating myself.  It amazes me that I was so out of it, so off-balance, that the only self-worth I could garner came from trying to please everyone else.

This face about sums it up.

For context, in case you haven't read my earlier blog posts, let's summarize my childhood with a single word: abuse.  Let's summarize my young adulthood with another word: rape.  Okay, I can summarize my life up until November 2010 with one word: victim.  Or, survivor.  Depending on how you look at it.

Becoming a mother was the beginning of healing for me, though things got a lot worse before they got better.  In June 2008, at the age of 27, I found out I was pregnant.  At the time, I was in a co-dependent "friendship" with a woman who conned me out of $14k over the course of six or seven years, who was also mooching off of me, living in my apartment with her then-boyfriend. 

I discovered my unplanned pregnancy the same week that I was laid off from my job, high school teacher, the thing I had always wanted to be when I grew up.  I had just started a new relationship, but was impregnated by a different man, the only "friend-with-benefits" I'd ever had. 

The moocher "friend," a woman I trusted and loved with all my heart, took off a few months into my pregnancy, leaving me a 10 page letter about what a horrible person I was and how sorry she was for my child because she was sure I'd be a horrible mother.  My baby's sperm donor had no interest in our child.  My boyfriend started treating me like crap early on, but I had already broken the lease on my apartment and moved in with him.  I felt helpless.  I felt trapped.

Don't we all look so happy together?

I tried to focus on the positive.  I had my heart set on a happy ever after...with a misogynistic deadbeat who sexually assaulted me every single night for two years - and I didn't recognize it as sexual assault until last month, when a friend who had read my memoir called it what it was!  I kept making excuses for my ex, to myself as well as to my friends, until the night he left me and my one year old son penniless and homeless, in November 2010.

Hello, rock bottom.

I was an exceedingly lucky homeless person.  I didn't have a home for a few months, but I always had a bed to sleep in, people to help me search for work and to watch my son while I searched, people giving me whatever they could spare, even if it was just love and support over the internet.  My son and I never had to sleep on the street, never went hungry, and never went without knowing that we were loved.

It still amazes me how empowering an experience it was for me.  There were dozens of people helping however they could, many of whom I barely knew, all cheering me on, encouraging me, telling me I could do it, pushing me to prove to myself that I could.  I couldn't let myself fall to pieces or give up, because I had a precious toddler depending on me.

It probably goes without saying that I was depressed as all hell during all that.  I was so scared, and so angry, but I suppressed all my negative feelings as well as I could.

Holding it all in was killing me.  The optimistic, light-hearted, playful, affectionate, nurturing woman I had been locked herself away in some hidden corner of my heart.  I felt like a hollow automaton, just going through the motions, doing whatever I had to do.

My love for my son, and my determination to give him the best possible start in life, kept me from killing myself.  My beliefs about positive, conscious parenting drove me to seek out methods of self-healing so I could be the best mother I could be.  My spiritual path and experiences provided the tools I needed to put myself back together, piece by piece, and pure Divine Love provided me with a home in the last place I ever would have thought to look.

In this home, I am loved, supported, valued, and given the space I need to heal.  Gratitude really isn't strong enough a word to express how I feel.  I truly am blessed beyond my fondest dreams.

Now, having finally learned to love myself, having finally healed to a point that I feel like a whole new person, no longer either a victim or a survivor...now I have too many friends suffering the same kinds of crap I suffered.

My inner warrior princess is shrieking her battle cry, ready to throw her chakrum and cut through all their chains, if they would just hold up their wrists at the right angle.

I want to help.  I want all that I suffered and all that I've learned from that suffering to help others, to empower them.  I wish I could just hold them in my arms and overwhelm them with self-worth, confidence, and determination to make their lives even better than they can imagine.

But I can't.  I can't make anyone feel, think, or believe anything.

All I can do is offer my unconditional love and support, guidance when they ask, and keep praying that one day soon when they look in the mirror they will see themselves as the beautiful, loved, powerful beings that they are.

But...dammit, people!  Life is too short to waste on misery!

I was spanked, and I'm NOT ok.

Let's start this off by saying if you believe in your heart and soul that there is absolutely nothing wrong with hitting a child, don't waste your time reading this, because nothing anyone says can open a closed mind, even when the mind is only closed off by denial.



I was spanked as a child.

Yes, I am a good person. I am loving, respectful, considerate, generous, responsible, and confident.

No, spanking did not make me any of those things.

I loved and trusted my parents. Like any child, I trusted them to do what was best for me...at least until I was old enough to understand that they were only human.

When they spanked me, I felt powerless, degraded, shamed, betrayed, hurt, and angry.

When I grew up, no matter how much I educated myself, no matter what I believed or practiced, I loved and trusted people who I let manipulate me, degrade me, shame me, betray me, hurt me, and piss me off. I didn't do it on purpose; I didn't even know I was doing it until the end of each relationship. But the reason I did was because from the time I was a small child, I was taught that love was something that happened between a bully and a victim.

The fact that people survive violence, neglect, and trauma and go on to do great things does not prove that violence, neglect, and trauma cause those people to be great. The fact that you were spanked and you are not in jail, or you know someone who was not spanked who DID go to jail, doesn't mean that spanking teaches respect for the law!

Respect is pride in oneself, and recognition of the inherent value of others. Respect is NOT fear of retribution.

Responsibility is self-control and desire for the good of all, NOT obedience.

Consideration is the willingness to work with others to create harmony, NOT the sacrifice of one's own needs in order to make other people happy.

Love is an exchange of encouragement, acceptance, and joy - NOT a power struggle!

I am almost thirty years old. I figured out all of this when I was in high school, I've been trying to heal myself ever since, and I am still struggling to reprogram myself, so that I don't pass on these learned behaviors to my son, or my future children.

Is spanking the only thing my parents did wrong? No, of course not. Someone who spanks out of anger, or worse, while calm, has problems. Spanking is not a technique, it's a symptom.

Spanking is a symptom of feeling a need to control, rather than cooperate; to dominate rather than educate. Spanking is a symptom of believing that children are less than human, and do not deserve the same respect and consideration that their parents expect from them.

To illustrate this concept, imagine you are a police officer, and you witness a stranger in a store get mad and throw something. How are you going to respond?

a) Walk up to him or her, calmly bend him or her over and pop him or her on the butt, while saying in a firm voice, "No! We do NOT throw things. Use your words!"
b) Get angry and proceed to beat the living crap after him or her. Maybe afterwards you'll apologize. Or maybe you'll threaten to give him or her something to cry about.
c) Arrest him or her at once.
d) Roll your eyes and walk away.
e) Ask him or her to clean up his or her mess, and talk with this person until you are sure he or she is calm. Then, teach him or her some techniques to recognize frustration before it becomes anger, how to cool his or herself off before the frustration reaches tantrum level, and make him or her laugh so you know they will remember this lesson.

Okay, there are a lot of other options. the first four options are what happened to me most often when I was a child, and what I witness most often among other parents who do not practice conscious parenting or positive discipline. The fifth option is one example of something I would do for my child. There are many, many other examples of turning conflict into a teaching tool, and into cooperation.

If you believe in treating others how you would like to be treated, and you want your kids to grow up to do the same, then spanking is counterproductive. Unless you allow your children to spank you when you make a mistake. Actually, even that can not possibly replicate the emotional and psychological damage that you cause your children when you hit them, because you will never believe that your children know what is best for you, and even when they are bigger and stronger than you, you will never be as vulnerable to them as they are to you.

Discipline means teaching. What are you teaching your child? What kind of adult do you want to populate the world with? Obedient ones, who will follow all rules without question, and let more powerful people make their decisions for them? If so, you are probably Republican.

Couldn't help myself, sorry. Okay, political jokes aside...

I want my children to grow up able to love themselves, able to give and accept love, able to say no to people, things, or activities that feel wrong to them. I want them to grow up knowing that we never stop learning, that learning is fun, and that growing up is a lifelong process - there is always something new to learn, and that bettering ourselves should be the main focus of our lives. I want them to be happy as their norm, with punctuations of stress, and the ability to understand and trust their emotions and intuition. I want them to accept responsibility for their accomplishments as well as for their mistakes, to value themselves and their contributions to the world, and to know themselves, their likes and dislikes, their hopes, dreams, and nightmares.

I intend to teach my children these skills by practicing them myself. When I lose my temper or make a mistake, I apologize. When I want to change their behavior, I show and tell them exactly what I want them to do and have them practice the new technique, and then make them laugh, keeping in mind that play is how humans and all mammals learn best. I set limits as teaching tools, and as boundaries for harmonious living, and I explain the reasons for the limits at an age-appropriate level. I read a LOT. I talk to other parents, and more importantly, observe their children and their parenting, and see the results.

I don't have to spank my two year old, or put him in time out, or yell at him in order to change his behavior. All I have to do is calm him down and show him what he should do instead, and then show him how happy I feel when he does the appropriate behavior. The times that I have lost my temper and yelled at him proved to me beyond a doubt how useless anger and violence are as teaching tools. He was too scared and hurt to learn anything until I calmed myself down and then calmed him down. He learned to give me kisses when I start getting upset, to make it all better, like I give him kisses when he is crying.

I believe that abortion should be a woman's choice. I believe the government has no business telling adults what they can do to their own bodies, or to force us to to put something into our bodies or the bodies of our children that we or they do not want. I believe the purpose of the government is to keep order so that millions of people can live literally on top of each other with as little conflict as possible - and part of that immense job is to protect us from other people's behaviors that cause bodily, emotional, and psychological harm.

Assault is threatening to hurt an adult. Just threatening to hurt an adult can put you in jail. Why is it legal to threaten and strike children, who can't defend themselves, who depend on us to protect them, keep them healthy, happy, and strong, and teach them so that they can do all of that for themselves when they are adults? How can that possibly be considered okay to a sane mind?