Vulnerability

Daily writing experience - day 9

Vulnerability

I was born at a time of deep uncertainty, destruction and violence.  

I was born 9 months after the most destructive earthquake in Guatemala City's recent history, and 16 years into the genocidal civil war that lasted 36 years which decimated the indigenous Mayan community, particularly in the Western Highlands.   

As a young child my deepest wish, born out of fear, was to become invisible… particularly on Friday nights. Most especially early in the month, after we'd had bountiful meals.  This meant he'd recently gotten paid, and cash was available.

This created the foreboding that my father would most likely come home drunk.   A tension would build up within our home as my mother, my two eldest siblings and I, the third child, awaited his arrival.  

Sometimes he'd come home, I'd already be asleep, and nothing disturbed my rest.  Sadly, this wasn't the “normal” progression. Other times I'd still be awake, or I'd be awakened by his loud arrival, angry words and violent actions.   

There was a heavy blanket of family shame surrounding his alcoholic binges, our vulnerability, and the accompanying domestic violence.  Our mother, and the three eldest kids physically suffered the brunt of the release of his impactful rage.  This doesn't mean the three youngest ones were spared the negative psychological impact of this pervasive pattern. 

When we arrived in Las Cruces, New Mexico, there were two adults, and six kids ages 11, 10, 9 (me), 5, 2, and a 6 month old baby.

Thanks to a neighbor who called the police when they heard what I knew as the familiar violent scene, the opportunity to overcome this tragic pattern appeared.  Our father was taken away to sober up elsewhere. He was told if this happened again, his scholarship would be removed, he'd be expelled from school, and in order to stay both he and our mother would have to receive psychological support.   

Accountability, clear consequences, and support were offered. These were the terms, and he agreed to them. 

This night changed the direction of our life.  I witnessed radical change in the ensuing years.   

My parents divorced 10 years later. The effects of the violence perpetrated against us still litter our bodies, minds and spirits as it can't be unseen, unheard or undone.   

Thankfully, I've personally found a deep desire to work to transmute the victimhood I experienced into something that can be of service to others.   This work has been very personal and hidden from public view as the deep shame surrounding domestic violence keeps us from recognizing that it's a pattern that repeats at all levels of society, in all different cultures, and within all manners of domestic relationships.   

As an adult, who's undergone a deep healing process, I can witness my father's pain, insecurity, and inability to empower himself to get outside of the violent pattern he himself grew up within his own family when he was a kid and the cultural norms he participated within.   He didn't innovate. Instead, he perpetuated the cycle.

This does not in any way condone his actions.  However, it allows me the opportunity to evaluate whether I've done my own work to keep breaking the violence cycle in all its forms. 

The hardest form to dissolve has been the internal oppression I've encountered as at some point I took over the external negative conditioning.   

And I continue to be pleasantly surprised by the human resources, resilience, and perseverance we have access to when we choose to tell the truth to ourselves and reach out for help, guidance and support to change negative patterns.

Have you had experiences that have changed the trajectory of your life?