What do you see?

We each have a bias, a view, a perspective. I've heard that you can take 2 people who go through the same exact experience and get 2 different stories about what happened. We are so unique in every way, it is only reasonable to acknowledge that we will process experiences differently based on our own understanding of the world at the time of the event. What I remember is most likely different that what you experienced and remember.

One of my favorite early pictures of my brother and I. I remember these 2 kids somewhere deep in my heart. Before the world got scary.

My brother's experience of our step father was based on what he had seen and felt. He experienced more of the physical violence as a young boy. He received many beatings at a very young age. I'm sure my step father would describe them as spankings, but I won't use that word. I've seen spankings and these were different. Although the butt was the central target for the assault, there was a violence that accompanied each round that increased both the physical and emotional pain. Have you ever heard of the saying "get the boot"? We experienced that one. He would grab our arms and hold onto us long enough to kick our butts then he'd let go and we'd go flying. We also got the belt. He'd remove his leather belt from around his waist and whip us with it. I peed my pants several times and would get another beating for that offense. There was one special event at my cousins house when we got "spanked" with a cast iron frying pan. I was so very embarrassed at the time but looking back at it now, how bold he was to get a pan and come after us. If I remember it correctly, we were jumping on my cousins bed. They didn't receive the same treatment and have since indicated that their father, my stepfather's brother, wasn't violent with them at all.

An early event that stands out to me happened when I wasn't in grade school yet, so fairly young. My brother got in trouble and dad came after him. My grandmother was there, his mother, and I was SURE he wouldn't dare be so mean to us with her there. HE would be in sooo much trouble for hurting kids and I watched intently waiting for the rebuke. It never came! She stayed in the kitchen and never said a word about it. I was in shock and it changed my view of her and what faith I might have had that it would stop. Another memory of my brother's beatings was about this same time frame. In fact, it could be the same event, I am not sure. Our cousins were there and we were playing together. My brother had a robe on and was twirling the belt around in a circle showing off for us in front of a standing mirror. We giggled at his performance and that laughter brought dad into the room to see what we were up to. We all stopped in our tracks as he demanded to know what my brother was doing. We all sat silent and as he yelled to be told, my brother said "nothing" as the reply and it was not received well. My dad took him and repeatedly grabbed him, kicked him and released him and he flew across the room, then dad would walk over and grab him up again as he yelled obscenities at him. I was so afraid something really bad was going to happen to my beloved brother. The fear was ingrained and I can be triggered still today. What I learned was that it was our responsibility to walk on eggshells, be careful not to laugh too much, keep a low profile and try to keep him from getting angry.

When we were a bit older, 10 -12 ish, still in grade school, my brother read a book called "My Side of the Mountain" about a young boy who lived in the mountains and knew all the survival techniques required to keep him alive. My brother told me he knew how to keep us alive and we could run away and live on our own, just like the boy in the book. We plotted about how we could escape the house through the upstairs window, onto the porch roof and jump from there. Would we break our legs? My brother was sure we would be fine. Where would we go? Could we make it to Moab? We gathered a few belongings in makeshift backpacks and waited for the right time. We never got the nerve, but I love that we plotted it!

One time when we were in our early 30's, we discussed what it was like to be so scared and abused by our step father. My brother called him by his last name only and said he wanted nothing to do with him ever. He was nothing to him. He then told me a story. He described the room we slept in which was located in the 3rd home we lived in after moving from Moab. We moved frequently in those first few years. I'm not sure why, I should ask my mother. I would start kindergarten in that house so we were probably 5 and 6 years old. My brother recounted a time when we were supposed to asleep. We were either in the same bed or the same room in different beds, I'm not sure. He heard dad and dad's younger brother open the door and he pretended to be asleep. Dad said something to his brother and the brother said "you are a sick fuc*" and laughed. My brother decided that what our step dad had disclosed to his brother was his desire to kill us both. When he told me this I took a deep breathe and said to him "I don't think that is what he was referencing". He asked me why I thought that and I told him of the sexual assaults I had endured and it was my opinion that he probably said something sexual in nature about me or reference to that activity. We left that discussion not quite sure what he really said, but with any understanding that we both had been terrorized by this man.

I've thought a lot about that over the years. How it must have felt for my brother to be sure his "dad" wanted to kill him. How did that change him? How has he healed from his trauma? My brother is an amazing man, but he doesn't talk about those things with me. He has built a life for himself and I try to honor his choices for survival, his methods of dealing with it. He seems to have been able to deal with his fear and anger without repeating the violence on his own family and for that I am so very grateful. He loves his family deeply and works very hard to provide a loving, safe environment for them. But I know it hasn't always been easy for him and can see at times, the pain in his eyes. The pain we all tried to mask to make it all ok, so we could be ok. One of us thought we were going to die, one of us thought we were going to be raped, but both of us knew we were not safe. We were not ok.

Recently, I saw a list of class attributes on the door of the 4th grade class at my daughters school. It listed all the values of that class and the last one said "Everyone's voice matters". It hit me right in the gut. I've been battling this idea my entire life. Speaking the truth wasn't how we survived. In fact, we needed to say what he wanted to hear, that I knew for sure. Then after I grew up, it still wasn't OK to say what I wanted to say because it caused so much pain for everyone else to have to "relive" it or to have to acknowledge what had happened. But that grade school class value is there for a reason. Because we have learned that EVERYONE needs a voice and needs to feel that THEIR VOICE MATTERS. My brother's voice matters and his story matters. My mother's matters, my sisters' matters. While they might seem different, due to our different lived experiences and personal remembrance's, all of our stories and voices matter. I believe that when we give our stories life, when we tell them, they start to loosen their grip on us. I believe that we can learn from our own life story too. And that our children and grandchildren can learn from us. I am a big advocate for giving your inner self a voice. Giving story to the things that we hold tight onto, either due to pain or because they are tender and we fear being vulnerable. Brene Brown has done extensive work on what vulnerability is and how it matters in our lives. She has said "Vulnerability is hard, and it's scary, and it feels dangerous, but it's not as hard, scary or dangerous as getting to the end of our lives and having to ask ourselves, 'What if I would've shown up?' 'What if I would've said, I love you?' " Brown told the crowd. "Show up, be seen, answer the call to courage... 'cause you're worth it. You're worth being brave." I love her and I love that quote. While not every story needs to be told to everyone, we do have the right and some might say obligation, to show up, be seen and answer the call to courage. Be willing to share your story, your life lessons and by that, yourself. It will heal your spots that need healing and it will give others permission to do the same!