Read about my very first solo trip! Parts 1 and 2 listed below!
https://singlemomsolotravels.blogspot.com/2017/04/about-my-very-first-solo-trip.html
https://singlemomsolotravels.blogspot.com/2017/07/about-my-very-first-solo-trip-pt-2.html
Showing posts with label black feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label black feminism. Show all posts
Friday, July 21, 2017
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Harassed By An Uber Driver For Being A Single Mother
An update was in the works... (It's still coming and very exciting!) But I felt it necessary to share my not so good experiences with Uber.
**************************************************
So this evening I decided to take a trip to the movies with a friend of mine because I needed a little time away with adults.
I caught an Uber to the theater to meet up with my friend all the while anticipating a bomb ass show.
So imagine my anger when a very light conversation turned into my driver shaming me.
It started with me apologizing for running a minute late out of the house. He didn't DESERVE an explanation, but I lightheartedly told him that my brother was a little behind in getting to my house to watch my kids. Innocent enough, right?
He goes and asks, "Are you a single mother?"
I answered.... "Ummm... yes?"
And it was all downhill from there. I spent an entire ride listening to him tell me how it's a woman's fault for deciding to have kids with someone who willingly up and leaves. Mind you he has no clue about my situation as I hadn't volunteered any in depth information about why I'm a single mother. He doesn't know if whether my kids father has died, if whether I'm a victim of rape, etc. He just doesn't know.
He goes on to tell me that I need to look in the mirror and figure out why he left because having kids is 90% a woman's choice. And he was very vulgar while saying this.
Could I have said something? Yep. I almost bit a hole thru my tongue though. Why? Because I don't know this "man" from shit. My protest could have got me missing. And going by his tone I felt forced to stay silent.
When I finally made it to the theater I was shaking mad. I'm sure my friend could see it. I spent the entire preview time trying to write up this report.
Luckily I enjoyed myself at the movies despite it all.
When I got in the car with my friend, I received a message from Uber saying that they are sorry for my experience and that they'll credit my $5 towards a trip. 5??? I want my entire trip fare back for having to endure such harassment.
How tf does Uber even think that was acceptable? I don't want a credit. I want my money back and that fool to be dealt with.
**Update** I wrote Uber back saying this: "A $5 credit is unacceptable. This is not the first time I've experienced inappropriate behavior from an Uber driver, but today is the first time I've reported. Today was the last straw and ruined what should have been a good time. Instead of enjoying myself I was busy trying to calm myself down from a confusing, hostile and hurtful experience and missing parts of the movie to try to recount my horrible experience. The very least you could do is refund me my entire trip. He also needs to be let go. He does not know me at all. And the fact that he felt comfortable enough to talk to me this way is a huge problem. There's no telling what other type vile and hurtful things he's said to other women passengers"
Uber's response? That they'll credit me an extra $10.
No! Still not good enough. I want accountability for your driver and for you all to refund me back my money because I plan to never use Uber again!
I listen to (as I'm sure other single mothers listen to) and read from people everyday how they are to blame for this and that.... How they are unlovable, damaged, etc. While I don't need not a one damn man to prove my worth or to have around just to say there's a physical presence of a male.... That experience sent me to a place that I've worked hard for years to get out of for so many reasons that ppl have no clue about.
Uber and this bitch ass nigga owe down
Uber and this bitch ass nigga owe down
To those who are reading I'm open to listening to your stories. Uber must be held accountable.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
A Not So Happy Mother's Day
First off I want to say Happy Mothers Day to everyone!
Unfortunately I'll be spending my Mother's Day in a huge corporate office alone because the "father" of my oldest daughter continues to drag me to court. In order for me to make my hearing tomorrow and not use PTO I will have to make up my hours on Mothers Day instead.
What I wanted to focus on in this post though is this need by both men and women to degrade and shame women on a day that's meant to acknowledge their hard work and sacrifice.
I want to preface this post by saying that I'm not without fault because I used to do this too. I used to dedicate about 4 or 5 posts as well as invite myself onto other people's post to debate them. Out of order and out of line. I'm sure if you were to go back far enough on my facebook profile you'll find those very posts.
Being forced to realize things for what they are due to my current situation has taught me that I did not know what the fuck I was talking about.
I have no right to tell a woman how she should identify herself and what she should call herself because I for damn sure know that a mother does not one day wake up and say, "I think I'm going to boot my child's father out of her life and start calling myself her father instead."
That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works!
This belief by those who are adamant about telling women who they are and aren't is usually followed up by, "You knew who he was when you decided to have a baby. You chose him! Deal with it!"
This hurts me and in turn I hurt for all who have been abused, whose children's lives have been in danger, those who are being manipulated in ways by the father that makes it difficult to give their children what they need. At this point it doesn't matter who chose who. We will NOT make the mother the reason for a deadbeat being a deadbeat.
In my instance my child's father chose me. What do I mean by that? I mean he preyed on me. When I became of age he raped me. My daughter is a result of this. My entire story is explained here: http://sbmmemoirs.blogspot.com/2016/04/i-was-raped-by-my-daughters-father.html
Furthermore I get minimal help on his behalf and am being tormented with multiple court hearings in an effort for him not to care for his daughter. I have earned every right to call myself both mother and father whenever I feel like it.
Some of you need to get the fuck out of your self righteous feelings and realize that your crusade to shame women for something that you didn't have to go through is problematic as fuck.
Unfortunately I'll be spending my Mother's Day in a huge corporate office alone because the "father" of my oldest daughter continues to drag me to court. In order for me to make my hearing tomorrow and not use PTO I will have to make up my hours on Mothers Day instead.
What I wanted to focus on in this post though is this need by both men and women to degrade and shame women on a day that's meant to acknowledge their hard work and sacrifice.
I want to preface this post by saying that I'm not without fault because I used to do this too. I used to dedicate about 4 or 5 posts as well as invite myself onto other people's post to debate them. Out of order and out of line. I'm sure if you were to go back far enough on my facebook profile you'll find those very posts.
Being forced to realize things for what they are due to my current situation has taught me that I did not know what the fuck I was talking about.
I have no right to tell a woman how she should identify herself and what she should call herself because I for damn sure know that a mother does not one day wake up and say, "I think I'm going to boot my child's father out of her life and start calling myself her father instead."
That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works!
This belief by those who are adamant about telling women who they are and aren't is usually followed up by, "You knew who he was when you decided to have a baby. You chose him! Deal with it!"
This hurts me and in turn I hurt for all who have been abused, whose children's lives have been in danger, those who are being manipulated in ways by the father that makes it difficult to give their children what they need. At this point it doesn't matter who chose who. We will NOT make the mother the reason for a deadbeat being a deadbeat.
In my instance my child's father chose me. What do I mean by that? I mean he preyed on me. When I became of age he raped me. My daughter is a result of this. My entire story is explained here: http://sbmmemoirs.blogspot.com/2016/04/i-was-raped-by-my-daughters-father.html
Furthermore I get minimal help on his behalf and am being tormented with multiple court hearings in an effort for him not to care for his daughter. I have earned every right to call myself both mother and father whenever I feel like it.
Some of you need to get the fuck out of your self righteous feelings and realize that your crusade to shame women for something that you didn't have to go through is problematic as fuck.
Thursday, April 28, 2016
I Was Raped By My Daughter's Father
First I want to label this entry with a *TRIGGER WARNING* as it will be touching on the subject of rape....
This is really difficult to tell because I am just now coming to terms with the severity of the situation that is having a really negative effect on my life. Especially now. But I feel it's really important to tell because my experience (as with many women and girls) is not what people typically define as rape. Yet it is rape nonetheless.
My story:
I was 16 when I met a guy on a social media website. This was long before the days of Facebook, Tinder, and things of the likes. These were the Myspace, Cincy Peeps, and Blackplanet days. I met this particular guy on Blackplanet. Clearly he was only looking for a sexual encounter as I was too. A few messages later we met up and did what we came to do.
I learned before even meeting him that he was in his early 20's. I didn't care though. He was well aware that I was in high school and disturbingly he did not care either.
We were sexually involved with each other from the age of 16 up until I was 20.
This guy had a friend that he always referred to as DJ. DJ was about the same age as he was. Per usual I decided to sneak out of the house to meet the guy from the website. He asked me if I had a friend for DJ. I told him that I did and I gave her a call. My friend said yes she'd link up with us and we all rode to her house to get her.
These older men were all over us girls who were at the time 17 years old. Our nite ended quickly because I was caught outside of the house by my aunt when I wasn't supposed to be.
Afterward I found myself a little jealous. I found DJ attractive and I wanted him. I didn't tell her this though. The next day at school I asked how she liked DJ. She said that he was kind of cute, but she wasn't really feeling him. I was so excited to know this because I knew that I could try him without her getting upset.
Another year goes by and I'm still heavily involved with the guy that I met online.
I finally turned 18 and graduated from high school. That was my chance to be free. I didn't owe anybody an explanation for what I wanted to do because I was "grown." I was legally an adult.
The summer following my high school graduation I immediately began attending the city's local university through a high school enrichment program that allowed it's senior participants to take college classes as well as live on campus.
Well, during that stay I got an unexpected call from DJ. It was really odd because I hadn't seen, heard from, or spoken to him since the time my friend and I met up with him when we were 17. I answered and he asked if we could chill. I said yes.
He picked me up from my dorm and we drove around the city just engaging in small talk. He was drinking liquor and asked if I wanted some. I told him no.
I was a little nervous hoping that he wouldn't cause an accident. Worst case scenario I didn't want to end up dying!
We made it to our destination safely, but the destination wasn't what I expected at all. I thought we were going to chill as in go somewhere and do something in a public setting. Not a local motel.
I began feeling weird, but I followed his lead.
When we got inside he had more to drink and asked again, "You sure you don't want none?" I told him no.
He went to sit on the bed and told me to come here. I walked over hesitantly and he leaned over and kissed me. I could smell and taste the apple pucker on his breath. I did not enjoy the kiss at all, but I did it because I felt obligated somehow.
He began undressing me and undressing himself.
I just wasn't feeling it anymore, but I figured I'd go ahead and let him fuck and afterward he'd take me home that evening and I'd never have to see him again. So I played along.
He took his boxers off and attempted to penetrate me, but I was so turned off that I couldn't even fake it. I don't know what his deal was either because he was clearly soft no matter how excited he appeared to be.
He told me to give him head because, "I know that's what you do." And he forcefully pushed my head down. I did what I was told because at this point I didn't know what he was capable of. He was smaller in stature than most guys that I dealt with, but he was still a guy and much stronger than I was.
I was really disgusted and tried to hurry and get it over, but he was still soft. I decided that I didn't want to do it anymore so I stopped.
He then told me to lay down and he tried to penetrate me again. I guess he was aroused just enough to actually get it in. Meanwhile I was praying that this would quickly end.
With each pump I began regretting even being there. Regretting accepting the invitation. Regretting accepting his phone call.
My leg began to hurt so I told DJ to let me get up for a minute. He ignored me. So I waited and then said again, "Let me get up. I need to get up."
DJ said, "No not til I'm done."
This is when I really got scared. I wasn't well versed on consent at the time, but I knew that no meant no.... No matter what. I told him no and he would not stop!
I tried to force myself from up under him and he put me in a hold where his arm wrapped around the back of my neck up to the front of my neck. I couldn't move. I couldn't go anywhere. I just laid there. I was so scared. There wasn't anybody that I could call. There was simply nothing that I could do, but take it.
When he was done he got up and went to the bathroom.
I contemplated quickly getting dressed and running out of the room. I contemplated taking his wallet and using whatever cash he had to get back to campus.
Unfortunately my cell phone was dead so I couldn't use it to call a cab. I wasn't familiar with the part of town I was in and it was dark. I was just too scared. I also thought that he could potentially go searching for me and doing something worse. So I instead just sat in the bed.
I didn't say much of anything to him afterward. I just wanted to go home.
He fell asleep. I on the other hand stayed up most of the nite trying to make sense of what happened. I was so confused. I felt violated. I felt hurt. I felt stuck.
After losing my fight with sleep I dozed for a couple of hours. I woke up before he did and tried to get up figuring that this would be my chance to now leave, but he had his arm cradling my body in a way that I could not get up.
I wanted to cry.
I tried to suck it up and play nice while attempting to wake him up.
We finally made it out of the motel and he drove me back to campus.
I was completely silent. I didn't say a word.
When he dropped me off he gave me a hug and drove off.
When I got back to my dorm I couldn't even muster up the energy to speak with my roommates. I walked directly to the shower and tried my hardest to process what happened in that room. My roommates knew that something was up, but I just couldn't tell them. I got dressed for bed and went to sleep.
I went about the remainder of my summer term as if nothing happened.
I finally got the courage to tell my close friend (which was actually the one that was supposed to hook up with DJ when we were 17). I candidly told her what happened then ended with, "He raped me." The look on her face when I concluded my story was one that didn't seem convinced. She didn't tell me that I was lying, but I could tell what she was thinking so I refused to tell anyone else.
5 months after my summer term ended I found out that I was pregnant. And when I say pregnant I mean VERY pregnant. Yes, 5 months pregnant. Since I found out so late I couldn't really pinpoint at the time who the father was.
I was devastated because I was looking forward to attending college in Louisiana at Grambling State University to pursue a degree in music composition in hopes to ultimately become a band director.
By that time I was back together with a long term on again/off again boyfriend (who would later become the father to my other 2 daughters). I revealed to him that I was raped and he shamed and beat me for it.
That was it!
I convinced myself that it wasn't rape. How could someone rape me if I willingly accepted his invitation? I can't cry rape. I pushed the notion completely out of my mind.
Years later after doing some serious searching and some calculation from the date I tracked DJ down and submitted his information so that he could be tested.
It came back that he was the dad.
At the time I was simply happy to find my daughter's bio dad. Especially after finding out that she had inherited sickle cell trait. It was important to know the history of such. Furthermore it was my opportunity to get more help on behalf of our now daughter.
I met him for the first time since our last encounter. I was actually not upset, sad, or anything else. Maybe that was because I had totally erased what happened from my mind.
We had a hearing for child support where he lied about working. He said that he didn't work at all. The hearing officer caught him in the lie and said that they had all of his work information as well as wages earned. She asked why did he lie. His response was to beg and plead with the hearing officer that he takes good care of his kids and he didn't want to be made to look like he doesn't. This didn't make sense to me. The hearing officer then gave me the option to forgo the financial support and only require medical support. A decision that I had to make on the spot.
I was reminded of the weak argument that financial obligation to a child causes fathers to be absent from their children's lives. I didn't want to be seen as the person who kept a father away from his child so I agreed to medical support. I wish I had more support on that behalf otherwise I would not have agreed to medical support only.
The hearing officer assured me that if at any time I felt that he wasn't properly financially supporting her then I could make a call to have it reinstated.
At the beginning DJ did what I felt he needed to do for her. He bought her clothes and shoes. He picked her up on the weekends. I figured that this was great parenting. It at least sufficed during her preschool years up until early elementary.
Once I started being vocal about what she needs from him and how he could be of more assistance he began pushing back and basically faulting me for what was going on.
His financial support was not consistent and I began getting tired of having to remind him to cover her recurring expenses.
I finally had enough and decided to reinstate the financial support order as it's not my responsibility to remind a grown man to consistently support his child.
Around that time I joined a black feminist Facebook group. They had a specific thread touching on the topic of consent when it comes to sex. In short it stated that if a person does not stop after you've revoked your consent then it is rape. He doesn't have to fight you. He doesn't have to chase you down. It is still rape.
That notion turned my entire world upside down and caused me to cry as I responded to the thread. I'd been in denial for so long. And that I was initially right. I was raped by my daughter's father.
Through eyes blurred with tears I recounted what happened. They confirmed that this was indeed rape. I was angry. I was upset. I was sad. I felt helpless.
I wanted to press charges, but I knew that the system would not be on my side given the circumstances and the fact that it's been 12 years since it's happened.
About a month later (a few days before my birthday) I received a summons to court. My daughter's dad was filing for sole custody citing complete lies. This is all over the fact that I reinstated child support.
I felt my chest tighten. Not only did he have the ability to violate me sexually and get away with it he now has the ability to legally torment me.
I was told often by many people not to worry about it. "He won't be able to get custody of her." But at this point it's not about him getting custody which I'm sure he wont get no matter how long he draws things out.
I am more concerned with my emotional well being. This man raped me. I revoked my consent and he did not stop. I in so many words forgave him and attempted to co-parent with him. When I decided to put my foot down for what my daughter needed he became really nasty towards me and degraded me.
He told me that I'm incapable of properly raising her. That I'm incapable of giving her the tools to properly succeed in life. To hear this from someone who fucking raped me? To know that my daughter has created a bond with the guy who fucking raped me!
These days I really want to give up. It's really depressing. I cry a lot out of frustration, out of anger, out of hate for him. I often think maybe I should just allow him to get her so that it would all be over, but I can't bear to know that he could have even more leverage over me if I allow for that to happen.
Because of all of this I am forced to not display my emotions. When my daughter pushes back and capes for her dad I have to keep my mouth sealed shut because any information that she may volunteer to her dad can and will be used against me. What hurts most is that she loves my abuser.
I got a new job to better support my children, but I risk not keeping it each time I am dragged to hearings. This is unfair and there's nothing that I can do about it. I can't afford a lawyer.
I am left to pretend to be emotionally put together when I feel dead inside. I'm left to scramble to continuously provide for her while her dad shells out thousands of dollars to an attorney in an effort to evade paying child support that he hasn't paid in 11 years. And if I do anything the least bit questionable I am scrutinized. I'm so tired.
This is my story and I'm no longer going to suffer my pain in silence.
This is really difficult to tell because I am just now coming to terms with the severity of the situation that is having a really negative effect on my life. Especially now. But I feel it's really important to tell because my experience (as with many women and girls) is not what people typically define as rape. Yet it is rape nonetheless.
My story:
I was 16 when I met a guy on a social media website. This was long before the days of Facebook, Tinder, and things of the likes. These were the Myspace, Cincy Peeps, and Blackplanet days. I met this particular guy on Blackplanet. Clearly he was only looking for a sexual encounter as I was too. A few messages later we met up and did what we came to do.
I learned before even meeting him that he was in his early 20's. I didn't care though. He was well aware that I was in high school and disturbingly he did not care either.
We were sexually involved with each other from the age of 16 up until I was 20.
This guy had a friend that he always referred to as DJ. DJ was about the same age as he was. Per usual I decided to sneak out of the house to meet the guy from the website. He asked me if I had a friend for DJ. I told him that I did and I gave her a call. My friend said yes she'd link up with us and we all rode to her house to get her.
These older men were all over us girls who were at the time 17 years old. Our nite ended quickly because I was caught outside of the house by my aunt when I wasn't supposed to be.
Afterward I found myself a little jealous. I found DJ attractive and I wanted him. I didn't tell her this though. The next day at school I asked how she liked DJ. She said that he was kind of cute, but she wasn't really feeling him. I was so excited to know this because I knew that I could try him without her getting upset.
Another year goes by and I'm still heavily involved with the guy that I met online.
I finally turned 18 and graduated from high school. That was my chance to be free. I didn't owe anybody an explanation for what I wanted to do because I was "grown." I was legally an adult.
The summer following my high school graduation I immediately began attending the city's local university through a high school enrichment program that allowed it's senior participants to take college classes as well as live on campus.
Well, during that stay I got an unexpected call from DJ. It was really odd because I hadn't seen, heard from, or spoken to him since the time my friend and I met up with him when we were 17. I answered and he asked if we could chill. I said yes.
He picked me up from my dorm and we drove around the city just engaging in small talk. He was drinking liquor and asked if I wanted some. I told him no.
I was a little nervous hoping that he wouldn't cause an accident. Worst case scenario I didn't want to end up dying!
We made it to our destination safely, but the destination wasn't what I expected at all. I thought we were going to chill as in go somewhere and do something in a public setting. Not a local motel.
I began feeling weird, but I followed his lead.
When we got inside he had more to drink and asked again, "You sure you don't want none?" I told him no.
He went to sit on the bed and told me to come here. I walked over hesitantly and he leaned over and kissed me. I could smell and taste the apple pucker on his breath. I did not enjoy the kiss at all, but I did it because I felt obligated somehow.
He began undressing me and undressing himself.
I just wasn't feeling it anymore, but I figured I'd go ahead and let him fuck and afterward he'd take me home that evening and I'd never have to see him again. So I played along.
He took his boxers off and attempted to penetrate me, but I was so turned off that I couldn't even fake it. I don't know what his deal was either because he was clearly soft no matter how excited he appeared to be.
He told me to give him head because, "I know that's what you do." And he forcefully pushed my head down. I did what I was told because at this point I didn't know what he was capable of. He was smaller in stature than most guys that I dealt with, but he was still a guy and much stronger than I was.
I was really disgusted and tried to hurry and get it over, but he was still soft. I decided that I didn't want to do it anymore so I stopped.
He then told me to lay down and he tried to penetrate me again. I guess he was aroused just enough to actually get it in. Meanwhile I was praying that this would quickly end.
With each pump I began regretting even being there. Regretting accepting the invitation. Regretting accepting his phone call.
My leg began to hurt so I told DJ to let me get up for a minute. He ignored me. So I waited and then said again, "Let me get up. I need to get up."
DJ said, "No not til I'm done."
This is when I really got scared. I wasn't well versed on consent at the time, but I knew that no meant no.... No matter what. I told him no and he would not stop!
I tried to force myself from up under him and he put me in a hold where his arm wrapped around the back of my neck up to the front of my neck. I couldn't move. I couldn't go anywhere. I just laid there. I was so scared. There wasn't anybody that I could call. There was simply nothing that I could do, but take it.
When he was done he got up and went to the bathroom.
I contemplated quickly getting dressed and running out of the room. I contemplated taking his wallet and using whatever cash he had to get back to campus.
Unfortunately my cell phone was dead so I couldn't use it to call a cab. I wasn't familiar with the part of town I was in and it was dark. I was just too scared. I also thought that he could potentially go searching for me and doing something worse. So I instead just sat in the bed.
I didn't say much of anything to him afterward. I just wanted to go home.
He fell asleep. I on the other hand stayed up most of the nite trying to make sense of what happened. I was so confused. I felt violated. I felt hurt. I felt stuck.
After losing my fight with sleep I dozed for a couple of hours. I woke up before he did and tried to get up figuring that this would be my chance to now leave, but he had his arm cradling my body in a way that I could not get up.
I wanted to cry.
I tried to suck it up and play nice while attempting to wake him up.
We finally made it out of the motel and he drove me back to campus.
I was completely silent. I didn't say a word.
When he dropped me off he gave me a hug and drove off.
When I got back to my dorm I couldn't even muster up the energy to speak with my roommates. I walked directly to the shower and tried my hardest to process what happened in that room. My roommates knew that something was up, but I just couldn't tell them. I got dressed for bed and went to sleep.
I went about the remainder of my summer term as if nothing happened.
I finally got the courage to tell my close friend (which was actually the one that was supposed to hook up with DJ when we were 17). I candidly told her what happened then ended with, "He raped me." The look on her face when I concluded my story was one that didn't seem convinced. She didn't tell me that I was lying, but I could tell what she was thinking so I refused to tell anyone else.
5 months after my summer term ended I found out that I was pregnant. And when I say pregnant I mean VERY pregnant. Yes, 5 months pregnant. Since I found out so late I couldn't really pinpoint at the time who the father was.
I was devastated because I was looking forward to attending college in Louisiana at Grambling State University to pursue a degree in music composition in hopes to ultimately become a band director.
By that time I was back together with a long term on again/off again boyfriend (who would later become the father to my other 2 daughters). I revealed to him that I was raped and he shamed and beat me for it.
That was it!
I convinced myself that it wasn't rape. How could someone rape me if I willingly accepted his invitation? I can't cry rape. I pushed the notion completely out of my mind.
Years later after doing some serious searching and some calculation from the date I tracked DJ down and submitted his information so that he could be tested.
It came back that he was the dad.
At the time I was simply happy to find my daughter's bio dad. Especially after finding out that she had inherited sickle cell trait. It was important to know the history of such. Furthermore it was my opportunity to get more help on behalf of our now daughter.
I met him for the first time since our last encounter. I was actually not upset, sad, or anything else. Maybe that was because I had totally erased what happened from my mind.
We had a hearing for child support where he lied about working. He said that he didn't work at all. The hearing officer caught him in the lie and said that they had all of his work information as well as wages earned. She asked why did he lie. His response was to beg and plead with the hearing officer that he takes good care of his kids and he didn't want to be made to look like he doesn't. This didn't make sense to me. The hearing officer then gave me the option to forgo the financial support and only require medical support. A decision that I had to make on the spot.
I was reminded of the weak argument that financial obligation to a child causes fathers to be absent from their children's lives. I didn't want to be seen as the person who kept a father away from his child so I agreed to medical support. I wish I had more support on that behalf otherwise I would not have agreed to medical support only.
The hearing officer assured me that if at any time I felt that he wasn't properly financially supporting her then I could make a call to have it reinstated.
At the beginning DJ did what I felt he needed to do for her. He bought her clothes and shoes. He picked her up on the weekends. I figured that this was great parenting. It at least sufficed during her preschool years up until early elementary.
Once I started being vocal about what she needs from him and how he could be of more assistance he began pushing back and basically faulting me for what was going on.
His financial support was not consistent and I began getting tired of having to remind him to cover her recurring expenses.
I finally had enough and decided to reinstate the financial support order as it's not my responsibility to remind a grown man to consistently support his child.
Around that time I joined a black feminist Facebook group. They had a specific thread touching on the topic of consent when it comes to sex. In short it stated that if a person does not stop after you've revoked your consent then it is rape. He doesn't have to fight you. He doesn't have to chase you down. It is still rape.
That notion turned my entire world upside down and caused me to cry as I responded to the thread. I'd been in denial for so long. And that I was initially right. I was raped by my daughter's father.
Through eyes blurred with tears I recounted what happened. They confirmed that this was indeed rape. I was angry. I was upset. I was sad. I felt helpless.
I wanted to press charges, but I knew that the system would not be on my side given the circumstances and the fact that it's been 12 years since it's happened.
About a month later (a few days before my birthday) I received a summons to court. My daughter's dad was filing for sole custody citing complete lies. This is all over the fact that I reinstated child support.
I felt my chest tighten. Not only did he have the ability to violate me sexually and get away with it he now has the ability to legally torment me.
I was told often by many people not to worry about it. "He won't be able to get custody of her." But at this point it's not about him getting custody which I'm sure he wont get no matter how long he draws things out.
I am more concerned with my emotional well being. This man raped me. I revoked my consent and he did not stop. I in so many words forgave him and attempted to co-parent with him. When I decided to put my foot down for what my daughter needed he became really nasty towards me and degraded me.
He told me that I'm incapable of properly raising her. That I'm incapable of giving her the tools to properly succeed in life. To hear this from someone who fucking raped me? To know that my daughter has created a bond with the guy who fucking raped me!
These days I really want to give up. It's really depressing. I cry a lot out of frustration, out of anger, out of hate for him. I often think maybe I should just allow him to get her so that it would all be over, but I can't bear to know that he could have even more leverage over me if I allow for that to happen.
Because of all of this I am forced to not display my emotions. When my daughter pushes back and capes for her dad I have to keep my mouth sealed shut because any information that she may volunteer to her dad can and will be used against me. What hurts most is that she loves my abuser.
I got a new job to better support my children, but I risk not keeping it each time I am dragged to hearings. This is unfair and there's nothing that I can do about it. I can't afford a lawyer.
I am left to pretend to be emotionally put together when I feel dead inside. I'm left to scramble to continuously provide for her while her dad shells out thousands of dollars to an attorney in an effort to evade paying child support that he hasn't paid in 11 years. And if I do anything the least bit questionable I am scrutinized. I'm so tired.
This is my story and I'm no longer going to suffer my pain in silence.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
I Just Wanna Give Up!
I have a friend on Facebook who is also a single mother of color. She is very open and honest about her struggles with being a single mother and I adore her for being brave enough to post what I'm afraid to say as it relates to motherhood/single parenthood.
Amid her bravery it really hurt me to see the struggle she has to endure. It really hit me hard last nite to see that she was having a very difficult time trying to stay afloat financially and mentally. I could identify with her frustration and pain so much and in return felt horrible that I couldn't assist.
It also made me reflect on what I'm going through.... The whole being forced to care for my daughter alone and then punished and retaliated against when I decide to put my foot down and demand from my daughter's father what she needs. How he routinely gaslights me and puts me down (as he did last nite as well). Knowing that he can legally involve my daughter in a matter that can and has emotionally traumatized her in order to get out of providing for her as he should.
I've dealt with abuse, rape, shame, and so much more from childhood up until now. The most of my advice is to "not focus on the negative," "there are people who have it worse than you," "you're overreacting" "be happy that you're simply alive" How can I be happy to be alive when I feel as though I'm dying inside? I am tired and just want to give up.
But you know what I'm going to do? Keep going. Not because I'm not tired.... Not because I'm happy.... It's because a mother (especially a single mother of color) being open about her struggles are so demonized that if I show any sign of distress that I'll be punished for saying so.
What a fucked up world we live in.
Amid her bravery it really hurt me to see the struggle she has to endure. It really hit me hard last nite to see that she was having a very difficult time trying to stay afloat financially and mentally. I could identify with her frustration and pain so much and in return felt horrible that I couldn't assist.
It also made me reflect on what I'm going through.... The whole being forced to care for my daughter alone and then punished and retaliated against when I decide to put my foot down and demand from my daughter's father what she needs. How he routinely gaslights me and puts me down (as he did last nite as well). Knowing that he can legally involve my daughter in a matter that can and has emotionally traumatized her in order to get out of providing for her as he should.
I've dealt with abuse, rape, shame, and so much more from childhood up until now. The most of my advice is to "not focus on the negative," "there are people who have it worse than you," "you're overreacting" "be happy that you're simply alive" How can I be happy to be alive when I feel as though I'm dying inside? I am tired and just want to give up.
But you know what I'm going to do? Keep going. Not because I'm not tired.... Not because I'm happy.... It's because a mother (especially a single mother of color) being open about her struggles are so demonized that if I show any sign of distress that I'll be punished for saying so.
What a fucked up world we live in.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Don't Sexualize My Daughter... The Reality of Raising Young Black Girls
When I finally think I got this parenting thing down I'm always hit with something that I didn't see coming... You know, growing up as a girl into a woman I was always pulled to the side and told "Don't dress like that because I don't want grown men looking at you." "You don't need to be around those boys. Go find some girls to play with." "Here, go change into these clothes." *hands me oversized tshirt and baggy shorts* "Stop being fast and get off of the phone with those boys." *gets hair cut short* "You look grown." *watching news report of molestation of a young girl* "See, thats why girls need to stop dressing like this/acting like that. Then these things would stop happening."
*sigh* I could go on and on with my own personal experiences as growing up as a young girl... A young black girl. I'm sure many of you (now women) can say that you've heard the same things growing up. I can also say that many hold true to those things as damaging as they are.
It wasn't until recently, that I began wondering "How did I make it to womanhood unscathed despite the constant shame?" I'd be lying to say that that I was unscathed. In fact I'm still trying to deconstruct my mind from the years and years of shame that was hurled at me under the guise of protection and learning what it takes to become a woman.
I never knew that adults were to be held accountable for their actions towards a child. I never knew that even if she "wanted it" it was indeed sexual abuse to engage sexually with a child. I never knew that it's always rape and sexual misconduct even if she wore something revealing or if she didn't have to be physically forced. I never knew.
Despite all of the shame disguised as protection, the truth was that I was vulnerable. So vulnerable that I would have been likely to blame myself if I were to have been taken advantage of by an adult.
Fast forward to now...
The reality of this problem didn't fully come to a head until I allowed my daughter to dance. This girl LOVES to dance. She's not on a dance team at the moment because I have other priorities to tend to, but you wouldn't know it by looking at her. She is constantly dancing. She will dance in the grocery store, on our walk to school, at home. She'd dance herself to sleep if I let her!
She often says, and I quote, "Dancing is my life!"
So you can imagine how my blood boiled when I was approached by this guy that I know who found my facebook page. At the time I had a picture of my daughter in some pants and her dance team's crop top as my profile picture. He proceeded to give me his unsolicited opinion... "That's why I don't let my daughter do this kind of stuff. These girls are too fast. I don't like that. I don't want grown men looking at her. My daughter could never do that and dress like that."
My response to him was.... "I'm sorry that your daughter will never be able to experience anything like dance. I feel bad for her that her daddy would rather make it seem as if young girls are only dancing and dressing up to turn men on rather than dancing because it's something that they enjoy. Please stay away from my page."
In that moment I was reminded of everything that was pounded in my head as soon as my parents noticed my growing body and new interests. I was never allowed to cheerlead for the same perverted reasons that this guy said he'd never allow his daughter to dance.
For these reasons I gave up on a lot as a young girl, because my innocence was so sexualized that I could not take pride in things that interested me.
I refuse to be the reason why my daughter gives up on her dream of being a dance teacher.
I refuse to sexualize or shame my children's actions.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)