BEVERLY AND JESSICA

PHOTO BY RANDY BACON

BEVERLY AND JESSICA

“For Future Generations”

BEVERLY - Names. It has taken me most of my life to change the way names have affected me. It makes me sad sometimes to think of all the wasted time living under the names I’ve been called. But I am learning not to dwell on what I can’t change. The names started when I was born, I guess. My father was not happy about having his fifth child be a girl - or that is the story I was told when I started asking questions about my blindness. When I was two weeks old, I was hit hard enough for the optic nerve in my right eye to be severed. I’ve never had vision in that eye, causing me to be declared legally blind. My father may have been trying to do away with the child he swore, until the day he died, wasn’t his biological issue. I won’t say what name he gave me, but you all know what that name would be.

My siblings took a lighter view of my one-eyedness by labeling me Cyclops. I wasn’t a fan of that one, but I was also the runt of the litter and I learned to bear all things for survival. My brother, Tommie, and I would always talk not about growing up, but of getting out. Life was loud, violent, scary and unpredictable for us runts, yet another name.

The years I spent in school were some of the best of my life. I was called smart, pleasant, helpful—names I didn’t hear at home and I began to see hope. In my sophomore year, my father had had enough of me, I guess. Since he had never felt like I was his own, he decided to add insult to injury. I won’t dignify what he did by the names society would call it—molestation, inappropriate behavior, etc. I call it attempted rape! I call it assault. I say “attempted” because for the first time, I fought. I was terrified, but I fought my way out of his grip. I left hair in his hands as I fled.

I ran for my sanity and my life. And then there were more names. Because I told. I let the cat out of the bag. I aired our dirty linen. I told the neighbor whose home I ran to and then I told my mom and sister. My sister’s reaction was very reassuring for a scared 14-year-old runt. She started looking for a baseball bat. She didn’t find one, which was a good thing. My mother was furious, too, but in a different way. She couldn’t believe I had shamed the family. More names ensued, like Stupid, Liar. I spent the rest of high school trying to pacify my mom for something I don’t understand to this day. Anyway, reporting wasn’t common back then, I guess. The only thing that changed at home was that my sister stuck to me like glue. She became my protector and STILL is. Those years caused me to take on other names that were not even close to being nurturing, formative, or encouraging. On the surface, I may have appeared successful, happy, and whole. On the inside, though, I was empty and felt nothing of myself.

Later I was married and had two small daughters. My husband was emotionally abusive towards me and my daughters for years - I didn’t realize that my daughters were also physically abused by my husband until much later. I will always feel guilty about that. When I found out that my daughters were being physically abused by my husband, I knew we had to leave. We had nothing- I had no job and I hadn’t worked in 20 years. I was frightened and afraid that I wouldn’t be able to support my family and I had no support from my community at that time. I made plans on the fly and fortunately for me, they worked. Life is good now. I have these cute little grandkids and I live with my family.

God gave me new life, a new heart, and most of all, a new set of names...Beloved, cherished, daughter, favored, protected, and the list goes on and the most important name: Forgiving. Forgiveness is not excusing the actions of someone. Forgiveness is not forgetting. Forgiveness is not ignoring, avoiding, or being indifferent to someone who has harmed us. Forgiveness is pardoning the unpardonable or it is not forgiveness at all. Forgiveness is letting go of the wrong so it doesn’t keep a hold on us, limiting us, poisoning us, hurting us over and over. Forgiveness is a choice. I choose to forgive, not because it is easy or the offense was trivial, but solely because forgiveness is the will of God.

JESSICA - My dad was emotionally abusive with my sister and I. Then, around the time we reached puberty he also became sexually abusive. The abuse made me feel like there was something about me that was wrong- something about me that made him think that what he was doing was OK to treat me more like a sex object than his child. I carried that with me for a long time, I thought it would be impossible for a man to look at me and see me as respectable, honorable and worth protecting.

I healed by focusing on how God saw me. I read some books that said that God saw me as a daughter and someone who has value and worth- so understanding that it really didn’t matter what anyone, including my father, thought of me or did to me.

I think there were a lot of people that wanted to say that the abuse wasn’t happening or that the abuse wasn’t as bad as it could have been. And I learned that you can’t let anyone tell you that your feelings or your experiences are untrue.

Some parents feel they need to stay in an abusive situation for their children. We need to take it out of the realm of, “where will the money come from?” or “God hates divorce”. The truth is that God hates abuse more. Your children will look at you and see that you made a really difficult choice for their future. That is something that I learned and what we all need to understand is that as a parent you are not just getting out of an abusive situation for yourself, but you are doing it for your kids and your grandkids and for future generations.