"Teen mom" was one of the most popular TV shows,10 years ago, amongst my peers.
I was 19 with a toddler. Watching an episode of that show was like being called by a famous director after they got hands on your deeply moving autobiography [called STUCK ON PAUSE] and said "I LOVE it...but just a few tweaks....." "We have a $500 budget for the season. And GOOD NEWS, we casted KIM K as the lead. She ALREADY said K." When I reflected on my own struggles and hardships as an abuse victim and teen mother, I envisioned MERYL uttering the last ink on the chapter of my future. And in my fantasy, she was divine. That show, for me, was trash. A garbage example of what it was like. And worse, "The Secret Life of the American Teen" was its opposer. I was more Lorelei Gilmore than Farah. Any day. Small town. Stupid boys. Accidents. Betrayal. Cut to independent woman with bff mother daughter bond. I got told countless times "I don't know how you do it." I also had MANY girls come to me over the years to confide in me about the pregnancy test in their purse. Spent times talking to girls I never knew prior or never even met, face to face, via internet. Because I was OUT and STABLE as a teen mom, girls looked to me for support. Advice. Aid. And while that was beautiful and special, it was also so problematic. Girls would rather confide in a fellow survivor than their loved ones. Girls already KNEW their situation meant they needed to prepare for a harsh winter. For survival. Being a pregnant teen was not like "will Bobby still ask me to prom even though he keeps making eyes with Melanie?" It was more like "5 colleges in the entire Eastern side of the United States have family housing [permit a child on campus]. Only five. If I work 60 hours a week and save X amount for the flight, I will have exactly 86 weeks left until I can arrive in VIRGINIA. Arrive.". That is 84736256383 miles away from the restraining ordered and abusive partner than abandoned me and i have 68 days to leave before he can file a petition against me leaving. PERFECT. But being a teen mom also looked like: Giggling and blowing bubbles with my wobbly toddler on the green grass of the football field next to the daycare building between my Psych class and Dance class every wednesday [true story]. Bringing bella to club, having her sit in a corner under the table with coloring books that the leadership Advisor brought every week in a little bucket, especially for her. [Also, true story]. Bella attending night class [a 3 hour long lecture course on pregnancy and midwifery] and not even making a peep and then being carried out in a blanket at 9pm when it was over, smiles and awwws coming from peers who had no clue a little person dwelled in the back right of the stadium style seats in a Country wide known, waitlisted Professors' course [truth]. Teen motherhood was often fun. Sweet. Calm. She was my little best friend. I took her everywhere. Not just "because I had to". I wanted to bring her to my classes. To the cafeteria. To rally's and events. To the campus wide Strawberry festival--->better believe we played hookie on those big days. Having bella was the biggest joy of my life and everything else came second. Being SINGLE was amazing. Never sharing her. Never worrying how anyone else will want to spend OUR time. I grew up and she grew up. Simultaneously. We knew more beach days and mall days than she could count or I could list because it was free and local. So we did it. To fit in. To feel normal. To see Santa from the sidelines. To sign up for Godiva club just to get one sweet taste test per month [truffle sundays were also a staple truth]. We made the gosh darn best out of everything. Visited stop and shop to "pick a pumpkin" and walked the local farm stand [ probably 400 sq ft] to experience farm culture. Bella even got to take the train into NYC multiple times with me. We would walk aimlessly and explore without limits or curfews. I expanded and she expanded. Simultaneously. Thanks to local libraries, free museums, local farmers markets, and campus strolls to the duck pond. Even to work. My kid even came to work. And was treated like a princess. Now I know TV is made to be dramatic. It is entertaining right? It was entertaining for my peers to watch teenagers abuse one another, cry their eyes out on camera over heart break, exploit their children and make uneducated decisions about contraception and irresponsible legal decisions in their co-parenting situations. My peers watched teen moms on TV but would not ask me if I wanted to be joined for lunch in the cafeteria. They could never just ask me what it was like. Or even smile about it. My peers made me think we were at a funeral when I said "17" in response to their "how old are you" when staring at my kid. Wondering if I was the babysitter. Or a sister. Instead of just saying "she's cute." The AMAZING people who did ask me to eat lunch, walk to class, or even hung out with me AND my baby were a godsend. They literally saved my life. Because in the hardest of times I just felt alone. Isolated. Confined by the name "teen mom". I will never watch that show. But I do read books about other teen moms. One book brought me to tears as I read it 5 times over. MAYA ANGELOU. Another "teen mom" for the books. That is who I listen to. Who I honor. And many other women who have talked about the TRUTH behind being a young mother. And have validated the journey. The dualities. The simultaneous growth of two beings connected not just by responsibility but friendship. ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ J.S. Jaded Savior Why are you waiting to leave?
When the person closest to you is hurting you, making you miserable or unfulfilling their promises for you----> the answer is CLEAR. Crystal. Move on. There is a HUGE difference between working out a healthy relationship and stewing in toxicity. And for every excuse you make when they hurt you, for every time you stay the next day like it never happened, or for the times you call back first just to bring peace to the table ---> you are further enabling abuse and trauma into your own life. That can be hard to hear. When you have a cheating partner. An abusive partner. A spouse that emotionally abuses you with negative and judgemental statements all the time. A close sibling or family member who obsessively judges and pries, but never offers anything healthy to say. A best friend who only sees the negativity, the bullshit, and is only showing up to bitch about how hard their life is. It is all toxic. And we just need to be brave. Brave and sure of ourselves. I love myself. I truly do, inside and out. Even though I am human and I am not perfect, I embrace who I am. But in the past, I have let other people into my head and my heart who claimed otherwise. Claimed that I was stupid, I was ugly, I was a slut, I was a prude, I was a waste of space. I was emotionally abused and told how worthless I was by my own mother. And my own father would tell me I was a horrible daughter because I did not cater to him. The worst time for me, was when he said I was a "cunt just like my mother". I will never forget it. I have been in complete, head over heels love with abusers. My first love would meet up with other girls and mess around, then come back to me and kiss me right on the lips and tell me in my eyes that I was the only girl for him. That same guy told me to kill myself and kill "my baby", once I became pregnant and he essentially had no use for me. I have had friends be condescending, passive aggressive, or straight up disrespectful. I have had friends tell me not to speak out against my abusive partner, because they did not want to see the guy get hurt [say what?!] and that I probably just brought it out of him. When I was younger, through gradeschool and college, no one talked about this shit ever. No one pointed out abuse or toxic relationships. It just was part of dating". I knew no one in a healthy relationship. I did not know one man who was not emotionally or physically cheating, even guy friends. So I cut them all off. It took time to SEE who around me was a GOOD person. And every time I met a shitty person, to stand up to them. It takes work to stand up against abusive people. But a lot of the time it is not even necessary. To leave an abusive situation, you do not need to: ■ Have an exit speech ■ Prepare an explanation ■ Pay them off or owe them ■ Act extra kind or caring ■ Trick them into admitting anything ■ Explain to anyone else why you leave ■ Swear off all other forms of relationships All you really need to do when you have unhealthy people and situations in your life is LEAVE. NOW. Do yourself that favor and stop sitting wondering what will happen, who will talk, how people will feel or how your God damned abuser will react. Be smart. Be careful. But fucking run. And then, go grow you beautiful soul. I say sorry a lot. And I mean A LOT.
All day long, I apologize to my husband and kids. I even think "sorry" during situations with strangers. What do I say sorry for? HONESTLY. FUCK!!... EVERYTHING. I say sorry for sneezing, for moving slightly past someone, for wanting to ask a question, for asking someone to pass me something, for having thoughts, for tripping, for seemingly nothing. Husband: comes into the room to ask me a question. Me: .... silent....silent... [glares with fawn eyes] .. sorry. Husband: what? Me: glares {shrugs awkwardly} This is a symptom of my PTSD. As a child, I always walked on eggshells. My mother was manic, bipolar, depressed, and an alcoholic. She was a workaholic and gone every day for 10 hours, then self medicated nightly. Everything made her mad. And she always looked annoyed or just off. Resting bitch face might be a joke to all of you, but for me it was the earliest sketch I did of "my mama" as a kid. She was very skinny, standing at 5 feet tall and dressed up in turtle necks with dress slacks or womens pants suits mostly. A chanel/coach inspired business woman with imaculate makeup and hair. But her rage and emotions were like a furry. For anyone who has seen Coraline, the "other mother" is what comes to mind for me years later. As a kid I even swore she was a witch. But being serious, she was always disappointed and angry with me. Everything I did set her off and quite often made her ground me or emotionally abuse me into a corner. That went on my entire life with her. And even though I left at 16, the affects of that upbringing has lasted until now. Well into my twenties, while living with my Aunt and Uncle who took me in as a teen, I would cry easily and apologize for everything. I struggled a lot with anxiety and depression. I had a hard time making friends and adjusting to school when it came to interacting with other people. I used to always feel like everything was my fault, and I knew I would face a lot of abuse for any mistakes so I was extra cautious. I will never forget the summer I was 16 and pregnant, as a new member of my Aunts household, and spilled a glass of milk that shattered on the floor. I cried hysterically, while my aunt just blinked and stared at me. She was not even a little mad and we just wiped it up. Looking back on the many times I was fragile and afraid after moving out, I pity my younger self and wish I could have had the awareness and maturity to have gotten counseling and help. For a really long time, I thought I was pretty "together" and just focused on going to school and caring for my child. Now, at 28 while I am married with 3 kids and live with my own little family, I catch glimpses of that same fragile girl who is petrified of making mistakes. Subconsciously, I try to avoid anything that could hurt someone else or myself. I hate loud conversations, I hate confrontations, and I really cannot handle any aggressive or upsetting emotions radiating from anyone around me. It is all amplified for me. As some of you may also be able to relate, these are qualities of someone who is empathic. When it comes to saying sorry for really meaningful stuff though, I am not always sure how to. I pause. I freak out internally. I feel so bad I did something and I am nervous to approach conflicts so I mull it over and I psych myself out all the way up until saying it. And the more time or distance goes between myself and whomever I should apologize to, the more anxious and upset I get about the whole situation. A few years ago, I apologized to a friend about something that happened in middle school. I had felt so bad for years but was terrified to confront it. Yet the person was completely fine and gladly accepted, but said it was not even necessary. That made me feel so embarrassed. Even worse, I reflect now on the times I have yearned to say sorry to abusers. To exs, even when they did something horrible to me. To old friends, who cut me off or drifted away, so I could try and say sorry to fix whatever severed the relationship. I even went through a phase where I tried to sort of say sorry to each parent [both I have not seen since 16 and they were each super abusive + addicts]. Yet, I KNEW I did nothing wrong. I logically know when I do something wrong. Or I illogically think I did something wrong. Those are my two reactions in every day life situations. I now know that is completely normal for someone who has Complex PTSD and has been abused. But I went at least 25 years not knowing any of those terms and not having a true association with those words. I am working on myself currently, and I have confided in my husband about it so I could explain why I am the way that I am. Getting to know me has been a slow and eye opening process for him. But having someone so close, whom I see every day thankfully, really helps me to rationalize and identify my emotions and the way I process my life. I also get to form safety and reassurance of my decisions. Maturity + awareness of these side effects of abuse has also helped me to post about them. I know that so many people experience this and often, just like me, they lack awareness of where it stems from. Or worse, people may feel like they are broken and too damaged to ever become "normal". I know that feeling and it takes me every single day to tell myself rational thoughts to combat those fears. I have to be loving and remind myself that healing takes time. I also lean heavily on educating myself and connecting with others. I am trying to be more conscious of the word sorry and replace it with "excuse me" in the small scenarios. As for the big mistakes, I have to tell myself more often that I am human and prone to errors. In the duality of the word, I need just as much to embrace not saying sorry for being myself. I should never have to be sorry for being bold, passionate, brave, loving, adventurous, hopeful, positive, or any other positive and healthy emotion. And neither should you. One day, I am confident I will grow beyond a lot of these symptoms, but I hope by sharing my progress it may empower and inspire others struggling with the same problems. In order to become our best selves, we need to seek help and knowledge, as well as share our raw truths to validate one another. ♡ So here's to saying sorry AND not sorry, one step forward at a time. |
AuthorJean Soto, mother of 3 and wife, is a writer + artist in the Hudson Valley, NY community. Archives
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