Post #167 – Women’s Memoirs, ScrapMoir – Matilda Butler and Kendra Bonnett
July 2011 Memoir Contest – Honorable Mention Story
This week Women’s Memoirs is pleased to publish the first of three Honorable Mention winners in our July Memoir Writing Contest, Independence Category. Congratulations Shannon Dodge for her story and for using her storytelling skills to share a piece of herself with us.
Memoir Contest Honorable Mention
UNLOCKING THE CHAINS, FREEING THE SOUL
by Shannon Dodge
When I think of the word independence, I always think of release from bondage. The release of the Hebrew nation from Pharaoh’s grasp, the colonies break from the tyranny of England. Both fought for their freedom and gained their independence. Overcoming the oppression that plagued them, they were able to become the people they were created to be. Independence in essence is freedom and we all have stories of freedom in our lives.
Freedom comes in many forms, in many different situations, and is not the same for each person. What one person grasps as her freedom, another deems oppressive. What is viewed as independence and strength can be perceived as suffocation and weakness. To all their own, but as women we must embrace and celebrate the independence and freedoms that women find in their lives.
For me, I battle for control of myself and I count any small victory a step towards complete independence. My internal battles began when I lost sight of who I was as a woman, as a person of worth and as an object of desire. I allowed someone else to control my being and in turn I gave over my soul into bondage.
When you are young, love means many different things. Mostly things you don’t understand but in your infinite wisdom believe you do understand. When someone enters your life throwing glitter and gold in your eyes it is hard to see the magic they work beneath the surface. When you are young, it is even harder to see through the charade and see what is happening to you.
He was persistent, this I will never forget. Constant in his attention and affection, giving gifts, compliments, and time. He wove his way in, making me feel unlike I had felt before. I was special. I was unique. I was the only one. Then as the noose began to tighten I tried to retreat, but found out I was pregnant. At fifteen, you don’t see yourself attending high school and pushing a stroller at the same time. My dreams and wants were replaced by bottles and diapers. I was connected to him again, this time forever.
Our relationship deepened and with this he saw his advantage, I was vulnerable and scared of the future. Who besides him would love a little slut like me? A constant reminder, he kept this in the back of my head, kept me on a string, kept me away from others, controlled my every move. He had me wrapped in chains, he swallowed the key.
It wasn’t until I started freshman year of community college that I was able to see the world truthfully. I found a place for myself and he wasn’t required. I left him then, to start my own life, but never got the key. I just took that with me and labeled it ‘control’.
I met him through a friend. He was older than me, my child wasn’t a problem. We were perfection together. Passionate and loving we became inseparable and I felt whole again. I ignored the chains that bound my soul and focused on my new life, my new love. But he had other plans. ‘I don’t want kids,’ he told me one night while I had tears streaming down my face. How could he have been with me all this time, loved my child, lived with us, to decide it wasn’t right? How could he leave me now, now that I carry his baby? I begged and pleaded and tried to hold on tight, but he left anyways with a slam of the door which cinched a second chain next to ‘control’ – ‘used’. A piece of me died with that relationship- literally and figuratively. The baby did not survive and it took my dignity with it.
I was alone and lugging all this pain, each chain link grew heavier with the passing days. I turned to him out of desperation. Fifteen years my senior, two kids, and a house- all I could see was stability and acceptance of my situation. I went seeking his maturity but all I received was his hate. I was never good enough. I was not pretty, not sexy, not a good mother, too clingy, too fat, too weak. The verbal insults bashed my shields and eventually my walls came crashing down. Each hatred flung at me was another slap across my self-esteem and I soon was suffering from fatal wounds. I became a shell of my former self; drawing all my strength inward to keep the pain at bay.
With help from the strength of my mother, I escaped. While he worked, I ran knowing that he would not let me go if he was there. For safety I left secretly, for my life I kept quiet. We stayed with my family while I picked up the pieces and tried to puzzle how they all went back together, but none of the pieces even looked like me. How was I suppose to fix something so broken that I didn’t even recognize? A third chain was lashed with the first two, I looked down to see ‘worthless’ join with ‘control’ and ‘used’.
I puzzled through tears and I attempted to become whole and shake off the controlled, used, and worthless feelings. All I could do was shake the chains that bound me down, rattle them loudly and cry out in pain. The keys were lost and I wasn’t seeking them out, I lost hope in myself. Damaged and broken, I prayed. I had lost my connection to God through all of the turmoil and I attempted as a last ditch effort to reach for something to save me. I prayed and prayed, cried and cried. No miracle occurred and I was down hearted. I am still not fully rid of ‘control’, ‘used’, and ‘worthless’ which plague my soul and weigh me down. I don’t know if I ever will be, but I know that God has lessened the burden.
I feel the three chain links become lighter as time progresses, as I reach a milestone in life, when I got married, when I had my son, as I watch my daughter grow. I know He holds the key and in due time I will unlock the hurt. But for now I can only celebrate my independence from my past – the freedom from the men who pulled me down and who caused me to lose myself. I have never turned back to a life of control, abuse, and neglect. I celebrate me.
