On the outside, my daughter is nothing like me. Her complexion is tan, her eyes are so dark they’re nearly black, and she has hair and brows so incredible they’re Instagram famous. True story. On the inside, though, I see more of myself in her every day. Not the reckless teenager I was at her age, but the woman I am today. She’s a pain in the ass, and strong-willed to a fault. She has a dry wit and she’s very cautious, only allowing a select few inside of the walls that guard her emotions. She’s one tough cookie. But recently she met a new boy at school who managed to raise every fine hair on the back of my neck; a boy who brought out in her a darkness I’d known in myself. He was a boy whose intentions I recognized from my past.
At first it seemed as if he would be the one who would finally claim her young heart. He was a handsome mixture of African-American and French heritage, incredibly smart, admittedly sensitive, and the son of a retired NFL player who showed the promise of following in his father’s footsteps. And this kid, who sucked-up to me big-time, was head-over-heels crazy about my daughter. But after only a week of stolen moments at school and ridiculously long FaceTime calls, she began to change.
One evening, I came downstairs from my office to find her huddled in the corner of the sofa in tears, a vulnerability she hardly ever shows. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, “I feel like all I do is say ‘I’m sorry’ for things I don’t even think are my fault.”
Anxiety mushroomed in my chest as I remembered that same feeling. “They’re not your fault.”
She reminded me how irritated he’d been the night she didn’t reply to a text right away because she was driving. Other than how absurd he’d behaved, I didn’t think much of it at the time, but as she continued to talk, the reason for his impatience became clearer. She then said how he’d refused to talk to her for hours after she didn’t post a photograph of the two of them together on her Instagram account as he’d instructed. He’d also told her if she truly had feelings for him, she would be more supportive when he had a bad day. And he’d had a lot of bad days, apparently.
With each manipulative scenario she shared with me, red flags exploded through my brain like fireworks on the Fourth of July. “This is how it starts,” I said, but what I found unfathomable was how soon the breakdown began. They weren’t even officially dating, and he had already shown the tell-tale signs of a potential abuser.
I freaked out as memories from a life long ago filled the space around me. Had I passed a trait on to her that left her unprotected? Was she attracted to being controlled as I had been? Was it somehow my fault she’d entered into a dysfunctional relationship?
I shook my head, vehemently telling her to walk away from him, that nothing good and everything bad would come from dating him. “You have to trust me on this.” She swore she did trust me, but she felt the need to confront him, to tell him how bad he’d made her feel. For hours, she listened to him promise he would change. He swore he would never hurt her and begged for another chance to make things right between them. And before the night was through, he’d worn her down and she gave in to his pleas.
It was a move that left this mama on high alert.
My heart understood her desire to give him one more try, but my brain and past experience warned her that she would be watched closely, that I wouldn’t hesitate to step in and end it myself if I deemed it necessary. I enlisted her brother and her best friend, asking them to watch her behavior; listen to what she said, but more importantly, what she may not have said. Her bestie, who already had a gut feeling the guy was no good, was more than happy to take on the task of watch-dog. And her very sensitive, even-tempered younger brother wanted to kick the dude’s ass.
Every day for the next week, I observed my daughter’s moods and asked how things were, if he was following through with his promises to be a better person. She said he was and that things were okay, but when I asked again, she confessed that she was afraid of him. She felt like he tried to separate her from her friends, because according to him, she listened too much to them. She said he constantly touched her and hugged her, refusing to back off when she’d said it made her uncomfortable, and he wanted to switch phones during class to prove he wasn’t talking to anyone but her. But we both knew what he really wanted was to see who she was talking to and what was said about him. At the very least, the boy had major control issues.
My hackles immediately raised and I was ready to defend my young to the death. I was determined to do my damnedest to keep her from traveling the same painful path I had, but I didn’t have the chance to. To my surprise, she did something I wasn’t capable of doing at her age. She told him she didn’t like the way she felt when she was with him, shut down his pleas, and blocked his number. I’d never been so proud of her.
As we walked our little demon-dog that same afternoon, I told her how impressed I was with how she’d handled the entire situation from start to finish. She’d realized there was a problem, and she talked about it instead of hiding it. When she felt threatened, she took charge of her well-being and removed herself from the situation. I didn’t know many sixteen year old girls who were capable of analyzing an unhealthy situation as she had. I certainly wasn’t able to. But then she caught me off-guard again, saying I was the reason she knew something was wrong so early in the relationship.
“I don’t always ignore you,” she said.
And with those sarcasm-laden words, I did something that is super hard for me to do—I cried.
As a mother (of a now college-aged daughter) I loved this. These moments are ones never forgotten and all too important.
Thank you. I just asked her yesterday if I sometimes make her uncomfortable with the things we talk about or thing I share with her. She said she was glad I don’t dance around issues like she can’t handle them.
Holy hell is your girl strong. <3 I want to give her a hug of my own, and you even more hugs.
This seriously brought tears to my eyes, for both of you. I wish I could have been strong enough to get out of a bad situation sooner, or felt like I had the support system that you provide. You two are so inspiring.
Thank you, Britt, and we will take ALL THE HUGS!
I can’t thank you enough for sharing this. As the mother of two young girls, not a day goes by without worrying that as they get older they may make some of the horrible, life-altering mistakes I did. I was an addict for many years, and addiction runs through the veins of all of my family members. As a result of this, I engaged in some truly foolish relationships. I was also raped, though it took years for most people, including my husband to believe me, since they had decided I was slut without any morals or boundaries.
Depression, anxiety and the tendency to harm ourselves is also seemingly part of the DNA of my family and I. I have healed from the most severe depression and suicidal thoughts after being raped, but mental illness, just like my physical disability and disorder is something I am mindful of, as it never disappears, it is just well managed at the moment.
The biggest fear I have at the moment is not that I had a lot of sex I never even enjoyed, or that I harmed myself for many years, but that I have been in an abusive relationship in the past, and recently my husband, the father of my daughters has become so depressed and consumed with his own addiction that he has become verbally and emotionally abusive to my daughters. They have just started counseling, even my 3-year old, because they need to be able to talk freely, but also because my own therapist said everything they say can be used against my husband in court. I was terrified by the intake counselor telling me that all abuse has to be reported to CPS, and that for failing to keep my daughters safe-according to them-I do all I can-keeping them with me at all times outside of school for my eldest-getting a cell phone for my 8-year old to call me or the police if I am at a doctor appointment and something happens-they could be taken from me. I wanted my daughters to have a safe place to talk about how their dad is behaving, and how it makes them feel, but now I’m terrified if they return and talk about his rage that CPS will be called and they will be taken from me. That will not happen. Instead, I called the police, and was told I can call at any time to have him arrested for disorderly conduct-which includes yelling loudly and making threats, which he does often, along with having an officer of the peace present to kick him out or take my girls with me to a relative’s house. What What sickens me is that his claims of loving the girls, me, and being a feminist are bull shit. I fear if we don’t escape soon my girls will equate an abusive partner with love, since that’s what he is showing them love looks like.
I’m sorry to have written so much. You are an amazing mom, and you are an inspiration for the right way to care for your kids. Thank you for the kick in the ass I needed to care for my girls the right way.
Oh, Tracy… Now I want to give you and your girls ALL THE HUGS!
What matters is that you are taking the steps to get help and to change the pattern. I applaud you for that. By getting out and moving forward, y’all will survive, but through therapy, you will heal. There is a big difference in surviving and healing–trust me, I know this to be true. Heather is the wise one who pointed that fact out to me. Love and hugs.
Tracy, as hard as it was to hear from a counselor, I would urge you to do what you can as quickly as possible to remove yourself and your children from this abusive environment. It’s not just the harm he causes but the tears in the emotional and psychological fabric caused by regular interventions of the police and child protective services officials who, acting in their official capacity, nevertheless represent the absolute breakdown of the family in the eyes of children. I don’t need to scare you with the data; I think you understand the long-term effects. But please consider that the fire that fuels you!
Please check to see whether or not there is a domestic violence shelter in your area that could counsel you on your next best steps.
All the best.
Wet cheeks … a quivering smile . . . . a wish . . . .that I’d been that smart … at that age
Thanks, sweets. I wish I’d been that smart at her age as well.
I loved this piece but but but I have to say that the title makes me EXTREMELY uncomfortable.
With so many women being blamed for the abuse they suffer, the idea that if your daughter _had_ suffered the abuse … Well, surely that article wouldn’t have been titled “My Daughter Consented to be a Victim”, right?!?!
Thanks for commenting, Tammi.
While I respect your opinion, I also have to say that “victim” SHOULD make you extremely uncomfortable, and I stand behind the title I chose. ‘Victim’ is a word we must revolve a dialogue around, and as a survivor of horrific violence myself, I can say that with unwavering certainty. No one chooses to be a victim, I didn’t, but some people are able to remove themselves from threatening situations, and because of the dialogue and tools I’ve given my daughter, she was one of them.
This was wonderful. She didn’t fall for the old,” well, if you really like (or love) me, you’d do this” bit. Yes, as boys, we learn our little manipulation tricks early. But that was the “old school.” Today’s teens are a different breed and now you know that some of them can be very responsible and work through their emotions to take charge of the outcome. Still, she remembered everything you taught her. If you had tried to forcefully step in, you wouldn’t have saw how much she had developed.
im sure you already are but you should be so proud of your daughter. I’m much older and male but I’ve been in the exact same situation in a relationship where I was heavily manipulated and made to feel bad constantly for not being the person my partner and her family wanted right there and then. Never was my own life considered and what I had going on, it was all about her and her standards. Reading that was like reading my own relationship at times.
I could go on but you get the gist. You have a centred level headed kid that won’t go far wrong with those values instilled in her.