I WON”T CRY – domestic violence song
Regardless of how we are raised, childhood experiences always impact
our future lifestyle choices. We are all products of our environment.
Sure, our genes play a crucial role in molding our personality but our
environment also has an undeniable influence. For children exposed to
violent, abusive upbringings, the lifelong pattern of dysfunctional
behavior is almost impossible to break.
Children rarely talk about how they are treated at home.
Why would they when they simply assume and imagine that it is no
different for them than it is in any other household? In addition,
children living in abusive households also carry the fear that they or
their parent will get in trouble if they tell anyone what is going on at
home. Therefore, the abuse usually remains secret throughout childhood
unless it is revealed by chance.
In the meantime, children accept the abuse and are usually just
relieved at the beginning of each new day when their parents are not
angry. They interpret this lull to mean they are “still” loved, and they
are grateful. Without ever having their feelings acknowledged, they
just assume they are to blame for situations and that they’ve done
something to deserve the way they are treated. Regardless of the fact
that it may be due to a parents lack of child-rearing knowledge, those
early experiences of abuse still impact and influence the course of the
child’s life and relationships.
This type of upbringing teaches children to never
question why. In addition, they learn to have unrealistic faith and hope
in harmful, hopeless relationships. As adults they are often victims of
domestic violence, finding themselves in abusive relationships very
similar to what they experienced in their childhoods. Similar to child
abuse, domestic violence follows a pattern known as the cycle of abuse.
This cycle almost always includes remorse from the abuser after an
abusive incident, which in turn fosters a delusion of hope in the
victim. The cycle of abuse, with its grand promises, is an illusion that
keeps many locked into unhealthy, destructive relationships.
Domestic violence usually follows a familiar pattern known as the cycle of abuse. This pattern is described by Domesticviolence.org in four steps:
- An initial abusive incident occurs (can be sexual, physical, or emotional)
- Tension builds, with the abuser trying to quell their violent
tendency and the abusee trying to “keep the peace” until, finally,
another incident happens
- Make-up: the abuser apologizes, often promising never to do it
again or, conversely, trying to shed blame by saying that the victim
“asked for it” or is “making a big deal out of nothing”
- Calm: both parties act as if nothing is wrong, and do their best to ignore the mounting problem.
Although abusive relationships can be incredibly difficult to end,
this is especially true for those people who have also experienced abuse
in their childhood. Regardless of the fact that these relationships are
harmful, without knowledge or memory of how else to live, child abuse
victims often find themselves repeating patterns of behavior that mimic
what they knew growing up.
Ann Veilleux, MSSW, LSCW gives this explanation of why women stay in abusive relationships, from: Why Women Stay “Women that stay with abusive partners very often have had abusive
parents. To them it’s normal to get hurt by the people you love. Their
self esteem is very low from childhood mistreatment and is further
undermined by violence from their partners. No wonder women can’t give a
good reason for why they stay: It would take therapy (and education) to
understand it themselves. If they had good therapy, they could learn
that they didn’t cause or deserve the abuse. Then they would leave.”
The truth is that the
experiences in my childhood are the framework for how I perceive myself and my
world, and they are also the foundation for the choices I’ve made in my
life. As a child, I never talked about how badly I’d been treated, no matter
how traumatic the incidents were. I simply buried the hurt and never brought it
up to anyone. I was just glad at the beginning of each new day that my parents
still seemed to love me. This went on throughout my formative years without
anyone acknowledging my feelings or that what was happening was wrong; I just
assumed it was always my fault, and that I’d done something to deserve the way
I was treated. Although it may have been
my parents’ lack of knowledge on how to properly raise a child, ignorance is no
excuse for cruelty.
The first boyfriend I ever had I married. I met him when I was 14 years
old. We married just as I turned 18 years old, a few months after I learned I
was carrying his child. I wish I could say that he changed and became abusive
after we married because that would make this so much easier to understand,
but, the reality is that in the four years that we dated through high school I
was subjected continually to his physical, emotional, and mental abuse on every
level. I tried over and over again to end our relationship but the sweet talk,
promises and fear of abandonment always brought me back with him. My upbringing taught me to never stay angry
with someone who “loved” me, and that I should just be grateful if someone
wanted to be nice to me after mistreating me.
I just hid how I felt, pretended it didn’t happen and never mentioned it
again for fear of being hurt again. My
upbringing also taught me about hope because in the cycle of violence the abuser
almost always exhibits remorse after an abusive incident; this remorse in turn fosters
a sense of hope.
I stayed with my husband for the next 28 years, and so did the cycle of
violence. We built a life, which included four children and several successful
family businesses. Honestly though, simmering just beneath the surface of
everything in my life was my fear of him.
I honestly thought I loved him and could not live without him. Classic battered women’s syndrome.
The dynamic of power and control between my husband and I was
established at the beginning of our relationship. It was a cycle that we both participated
in, and it prevented us from ever experiencing a “healthy”
relationship with each other. Throughout our tumultuous marriage there were
three restraining orders, four stays at abused women shelters, visits to the
emergency room, and numerous visits to marriage counselors. We were locked into
a never-ending pattern that neither one of us was strong enough to break. It
always came back around to him being physically and mentally abusive toward me,
and also to our children. The cycle of violence, with its false sense of hope,
prevented me from ever give up on trying to make our relationship work. I
always wanted to believe his remorse was sincere and believe in hope, and I did
not want to live my life without him in it. This was all I knew.
Prompted by physical abuse which escalated to a very dangerous level for
me (and included a grand jury indictment against him for rape and assault), I finally divorced my husband in 2006. Yet, even as we stood there in
court, I wondered why he could not change his ways, enabling us to save our
marriage and all the years we’d spent together.
I wondered how he could let things end this way. I still hoped, even
after the judge accepted our application for divorce, that my husband would
find the strength somewhere inside of himself to change. Regardless of the hurt
he inflicted, the loss I felt from being separated from someone I’d been with
since I was 14 years old was emotionally devastating. I still, even after
everything we’d been through, had not given up the hope that one day he’d
After the divorce we still tried to be “just friends.” This
proved to be a frustrating and impossible arrangement based upon the history we
had together, and the fact that the dynamic was still there between us. Yet,
even though we both knew this to be true and even though we were already
divorced, it would take a tragedy of incomparable depth to finally and
completely sever our relationship.
The life-altering, random day was August 7, 2008. Our 20 year old son
(the youngest of our four children) was driving home from work. He lost control
of his car, crashed into a tree and died instantly. For several months after
the accident we did spend more time together consoling each other; however it
was soon apparent to both of us that there was nothing left between us to hope
for. My hope that we could ever share life together again was finally gone. It
took our son’s death to help the both of us move on and thankfully we haven’t
spoken to or seen each other in over three years.
I started writing and recording songs after my son died and have
produced two cds in the past two years, Whisper On the Wind (which is dedicated
to my late son) and From My Heart To Yours, both of which are available on
iTunes, Cd Baby, and on my website. One of the songs I wrote after producing my
son’s cd is called, I WON’T CRY and it deals with my experiences living with
I remember back two years ago how terrified I was to actually go into
the studio to record my song. It was with tremendous fear and determination I
recorded that day, along with taping a video of me singing. While I recorded my
song a marvelous feeling of empowerment came over me, stronger than anything
I’d ever felt before. The song is a testament to the truth that early childhood
traumas, experiences, and conditioning can and often do determine the way a
person lives their adult life. But even more important, my song is one of
strength and survival. I sing for myself and for anyone looking for the
strength to end an abusive relationship. I pray that my song will help others
find peace, loving light, and courage in their journey.
Sharen Wendy Robertson owns the copyright to all posts on this Blog.