Tag: abuse

domestic abuse

Some More Info About Molly and Her Life

carolyncordon

This is Molly.

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Molly doesn’t have a smile, not yet, and perhaps never will.

Molly may have smiled as a child, once, and got hit for doing it.

Hit by her Dad, a man with his own reasons for not smiling.

And why should he let his daughter smile, if he had nothing to smile about?

There are other people like Molly, and like her father too.

Those who smiled and learned to never smile again.

Those who saw a smile and hated seeing it, so stopped the smiler from smiling.

Don’t be like Molly was, stay away from the ones who try to stop you from smiling.

Molly doesn’t live anywhere near her dad now, but she still can’t see anything to smile about. Life is like that sometimes. It’s a sad thing. Sometimes, for some people, that’s their life. I hope that one day, it will no longer be Molly’s life, and I hope she might feel she can smile.

And don’t be like Molly’s dad. Even if you don’t feel like smiling, that doesn’t give you the right to stop other people from smiling.

The world always needs more smiles in it.

domestic abuse

Writing Lives Of Fictional People

carolyncordon

I have been looking into the life of an imaginary person, Molly, considering her life, and the reasons she looks the way she looks. I drew her, I am completely lacking in talent as a visual artist, it doesn’t come naturally to me, drawing. For this story, that doesn’t matter, my character isn’t some sweetly pretty princess, she is a sad and unsmiling abused woman.

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This person above is Molly. She is an angry person, and she doesn’t smile, not ever. Molly never has anything in her life to smile about. She has a sad and angry life, being abused for all of her life so far, in many different ways.

This writing project that I am doing with Molly, is a fictional story, but there are many ‘non fictional’ elements to this story. Abuse is a fact of life for many people, in particular, but not only women, I acknowledge that.

But I am a woman, and the people I know who have spoken about any abuse they have encountered in life, well they have almost all been women. Hence Molly, and Molly’s story. I would love it if people like Molly could find good things in their lives, so they could smile happily, and feel they can move on, ‘get over it’ and go on toward living a good life.

But women like Molly, ones who have been victims of domestic abuse for much of their lives, they struggle so much in their lives, that smiling is something they never do, because their lives are a burdensome series of punches, bruises, broken bones, harsh words, and worse, day after day, with no joy ever.

Having things to look forward to in our lives should be something for every one of us, but sadly, for women like Molly, the only thing to look forward to is to not get hit, raped, or abused in any other way.

Domestic abuse is a fact of life for many women, and for some men too. I have little experience about any domestic abuse that men face, although I have certainly heard about it happening. That isn’t my story to tell though. It isn’t Molly’s story.

I will be continuing with Molly’s story, on this website, adding a new piece I hope, every day or so. When this is finished, perhaps Molly will learn how to smile. I certainly hope she does, but that is something I can’t see happening yet. I think there is much to be discussed before Molly can smile.

If you have any thoughts or ideas about women with lives like Molly’s I welcome any discussion about this important subject. Feel free to leave a comment here.

Writing

Molly’s Story Shifted, But Back Here Again

carolyncordon

My “This is Molly” story had a brief move to another of my blogs, one which deals with abuse, sexual abuse against children initially, but other forms of abuse later on. It seemed like a better spot for Molly’s story, but on further thought, I’m back to feeling the ‘story’ should be here, on my writer blog.

That other blog, https://wordpress.com/view/damagedchildrenpreciousgems.wordpress.com got its name from the poetry collection I had published quite a few years back, and I have gained much from having written and shared the words. Life isn’t always lovely, and when you can show that bad times can have a better way to go, it can be helpful for other people, and I am glad to know of women I have helped with this book.

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This is Molly. She has had a hard life, and it shows …

 

So I’ve decided this blog is the best place for Molly and her story.

Molly has had a tough life, and Molly shows her reactions to that in her face. Molly’s face has had smiles, but that was a long, long time ago. She’d love to have a reason to smile just once as an adult, it would be a good thing, a new thing, but her smiles were as a child and they were few and far between, even then.

Keep a look out here, and you sill see some more of Molly’s story. I truly hope Molly can have a happy ending, but I can’t see it going that way, not yet. Poor Molly, domestic violence is a terrible thing, and even though there are groups and programs to help victims of DV, it is never an easy thing to get over.

Hearing about the lives of people who haven’t had things as easy as we have, may bring a better understanding to people, and empathy as well. When things are bad, you need all of the help you can get. People like Molly may not smile and say thank you, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t grateful. They may not think the help will continue, based on their life experience …

If Molly and her story are like your own story, I hope you are able to get the help you need. If not, some of these links may be of help: click here

 

 

 

Writing

Finding Meaning through Writing

carolyncordon

Life, it can be a trial at times, but of course it can also be a wonderful thing too. When the bad times are there though, it can seem like there will never, ever be those good times again.

Some of us have worse things come into our lives, than other people have.There should be no blame laid, without knowing all of the details in a person’s life, you can’t know how or why every bad thing happened.IMAG0576 (1).jpg

Sure, some of our decisions can be wrong ones, but sometimes it can be hard to see any other way or ways to go. Options aren’t considered because there needed to be an immediate decision, with no time to look around, just act right then, no time for thought.

If we do get the chance to look at life, and decisions, the important things, the things that matter the most, that’s when we can begin to make better decisions, ones that speak to the issues we actually care the most about, instead of making a rushed decision that may serve us ill in regards to what we truly want to happen.

Knowing what we want most, what we believe in, what makes our heart sing, what we most do not want to happen. These are things that will come out if we give ourselves time to think on them, write them down, explore them, and look at the consequences of what you do or don’t do. close-up-court-courthouse-534204

Through writing about our lives, we can get a better understanding about these important issues we have, what our beliefs are, what are the most important things to us, why we do what we do, what could we do differently, for a better result?

analog binder blank book
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Answering these simple questions, could have profound results, give it a try, surprise yourself …

poetry

Feminism, Marriage, Blame, Burden

carolyncordon

My word for the poetry thing for February that I’m doing ( #poemadayfeb ), is Burden. I didn’t have any difficulty at all, coming up with something to write about. The themes around what happens to women when menfolk seek sweeter pasture and younger fillies is such a common one …

I’m happy to report that my marriage is sound, and we are both happy with our thirty plus years since our wedding … Things change, but we have changed with them, doing some of the same things together, other things separately, but (almost) always meeting up again when it’s time to go to sleep.

I certainly know of other women whose experiences with husbands has been quite different to mine, and I hear stories of horrific ways that things can go wrong. When I hear about mature women who are living in their car, out of a suitcase, I am appalled.

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I can barely imagine how I may manage if I were left is such a position, and know it is highly unlikely that will happen to me. I know it could happen though, you can never really know how life may hit you, but my circle of family and friends is a wide one, and I feel secure enough.

I know there are homeless men, living in a homeless shelter, and having to move on during the day, and go back for the night. These men are easily recognisable, I see on often around the town I visit often, but I don’t notice women is similar circumstances.

There are women out there though, every day, probably, a woman may flee from the home she thought she had for the rest of her life, when her partner turns on her, and she fears for her life … I am a long way away from that position, thankfully, and I am grateful.

 

Anyway, here is my poem, based on the day’s prompt, BURDEN

thinking of burdens …

You name her a burden, that you don’t want to carry –

you riducule her, mislead, abuse and ignore.

She holds to promises folk make when they marry,

hadn’t thought this end might come, that’s for sure …

 

But she’ll soldier on, because that’s what we do,

caring for others, whether they deserve it or not

and when it’s the end, and his vows prove untrue,

who’s the one left sitting in the sweetest spot?

 

It’s him, although he’ll claim he’s been fleeced –

statistics though, will reveal the actual proof.

On break up, women usually left with the least,

many of them stranded without even a roof.

 

We carry his children, we deal with his needs;

we hope for true love, but manage with less,

he thrives, she works, she aches and bleeds

then he dumps her, because she’s looking a mess.

 

He new babe is perfect, his dumped one, a bitch,

their children confused, the hatred damaging –

she suffers the blame, his life continues, no hitch –

he’s going great, ex wife & kids barely managing …