Showing posts with label child abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child abuse. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

A Special Thank You to An Garagiola-Bernier for Her Endorsement

"Even though we've not met in person, I believe in the things you do. From The Toilet Paper People, to The True Story of Anna Lynn Hurd, and now your work with the homeless, you use life’s obstacles as a stage. Opening people’s eyes to the ugly truths around them is not easy. Child abuse, domestic violence and women's rights are huge aspects of homelessness. Safety and security are basic human rights; thank you for defending them. Despite the fact that the majority of homeless people are women and children, there are very few shelters for women. There are even fewer for those who identify as GLBT. Outfront Minnesota is one of the few that come to mind. I admire you for using your gift of writing as a voice for those who are suppressed by society's myths about conformity. Over the summer I will be working on research; we hope to introduce a bill during the next legislative session that would bring #unconditionalhousing to MN. Keep doing what you're doing, Cherry Tigris. You are making a difference. It is only when you're doing it so successfully that the haters appear. You've made it, girl!"

An Garagiola-Bernier
Komorkis Research and Activism

Monday, April 14, 2014

REVIEW - Child Abuse Survivor.net's Mike McBride

A humble THANK YOU to Mike McBride 
(founder, childabusesurvivor.net) 
for his review of "Toilet Paper People."

http://www.amazon.com/Toilet-Paper-People-Cherry-Tigris/dp/1453855343
"The name of this particular survivor memoir is in reference to tiny people made out of toilet paper, who the author created, and made up personalities and lives for. These people became her friends, and a source of support, while she was living a childhood of horror, terror and physical abuse at the hands of her adoptive mother.
Going in, I recognize that to those who have not come from an abusive childhood this all seems rather silly, but I assure you, it is not. Having imaginary friends, altered senses of reality, and what some would call an inability to connect with real people is not really a sickness when you’re growing up as an abused child. It’s a coping mechanism. It’s what you have to do to survive.
That’s one of the things I really took away from Cherry’s book as I was reading it. The coping mechanisms might be different for all of us, but we all had our coping mechanisms. They were the things that kept us going, that helped us simply survive our childhood. While other children are learning about themselves, understanding their place in the world, and how to become adults in that world, the abuse survivors or doing just that, surviving. All of these discoveries about the outside world, our place in it, and how to navigate and succeed in it, must wait until later in our lives. 

Through the telling of her story, we can clearly see how Cherry goes from defenseless child, to doing what it takes to escape the abuse to then starting to learn about herself. Hard as it can be to see sometimes, I do feel like that is a fair representation of all survivor’s journey. We have to take the time to learn things that we should have learned as children, leaving us looking like quite the “mess” as adults, but not hopeless, just a little behind.

http://www.childabusesurvivor.net/reviews/2013/11/28/review-toilet-paper-people-cherry-tigris/
The other thing I took away was the feeling of belonging to someone else. To her abusive mother, Cherry wasn’t a person, she was a possession. I often talk about how the best thing parents can do to prevent their children from being abused if to be fully formed adults themselves, so that they can be parents, and not have codependent relationships with their own kids, but here we have an extreme example of how not being a fully formed adult herself turned “that woman” into an abuser. 

Her adopted daughter became a possession, something to control and make into something that existed for her own use. When you grow up as a pawn in someone other person’s game of life, is it any wonder that you don’t grow up with a sense of who you really are?

I’m very glad that Cherry decided to share her story with the world through this book. I hope that it helps other survivors to recognize the struggles we face as adults even after we’ve “escaped” the abuse, and that it also helps those who do not share this background to understand the very fundamental ways in which survivors are not a “mess” but just learning about themselves much later in life."

We can hope anyway. ;-)
MIKE McBRIDE
childabusesurvivor.net
(click here for more!)

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Perfect Pressure - When are Moms Going Too Far?



From the Chapter, "Jolen' and Me"
"Jolen was my own personal torture agent. She came in a large tub of crunchy cream that was rubbed and smeared over every square inch of my body and was the brand of bleach she claimed ALL women used to solve my problem of ugly, dark hair.  
The bleach should have been applied sparingly, but sparingly was not a word in 'that woman’s' vocabulary.” 



http://www.amazon.com/Toilet-Paper-People-Cherry-Tigris/dp/1453855343


We must ask ourselves, as a culture, "How far is too far when it comes to making our daughters look perfect for an imperfect world?" By subjecting impressionable tweens and teens to behaviors and beauty techniques meant for adults, we teach them a dangerous lesson in the over-valuation of looks over substance.


Most moms who engage in this perfection seeking through their daughters, are unconsciously telling their daughters that they aren't good enough. 



Do we REALLY want to convey
the message to young girls that they MUST be beautiful 
in order to gain acceptance and to find self-worth?
 
"The Sun published another interview with Campbell in which she vows to never, ever give her daughter Botox again: 'I am going to seek therapy for my obsession with looks so I will no longer push my insecurities about appearance on to her,' she said."
TIME MAGAZINE
MAY 18, 2011
 
 
While it was encouraging to find this quote from the now famed "Botox Mom," I am not at all convinced that more mothers aren't engaging in this perfection seeking behavior through the pageant community and in neighborhoods everywhere. 

We can only hope mothers recognize and take seriously the tragic repercussions of such pressure on their teenage daughters (ie: eating disorders, depression, etc.).


REFERENCES


ABC NEWS
TIME MAGAZINE
TEENS: PRESSURE TO BE PRETTY
STOP CALLING YOUR DAUGHTERS FAT
MOTHERS DAUGHTERS - HOW TO TALK TO EACH OTHER
HUMAN BARBIE BOOB JOB VOUCHER






Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Is Mercy Owed to Us?

mer·cy .

1. Compassionate treatment, especially of those under one's power; clemency.
2. A disposition to be kind and forgiving: a heart full of mercy.
3. Something for which to be thankful; a blessing:


Is mercy owed to us?

Do people "deserve" to have a happy childhood, good parents, memorable birthdays and holidays? I often wonder what my life could have been like had I not been a victim of my adopted mother. I wonder if my perception on life would change and if the idea of "forgiveness" would be a little less difficult to swallow. I have definitely let my child abuse story define me in ways that I am not so sure I have ever had control over.
 
My mother felt that I should be grateful that I had "things" in my life. She felt that I should take comfort in the peace of mind that comes from her variety of structure. Everything had to be orderly. 

Even the most mundane chores had elaborate processes attached to them. Whether her process was logical or practical was entirely beside the point. Somehow my mother had earned the right to call the shots and define her happy memories her way. Who was I to judge what happiness meant for her? I was just a child and if I didn't like it, I knew where the door was.


For many years, I bought into her process and her methods in the hopes that one day she would be happy. I thought that the happiness she would attain by my following her process would not only be noticed, but praised. Such would never be the case. Over the years, it slowly dawned on me that happiness was really not her goal to begin with. To this day, I still don't know what her goal was. 


I no longer lose sleep over the fact that I couldn't please her. Instead, I have witnessed too many women, like my mother, who have elected to be consumers of life instead of producers. Who am I to judge which roles others choose for themselves? I can only measure ME.


My mother decided that she would seek her validation from the shows she watched on television. The rush she would get from outdoing her other socialite peers was nauseating to me and reminded me  of episodes of Real Housewives of Orange County. How many people REALLY want to come from families like that? Are those ladies happy, fulfilled, solid role models, good parents? Who am I to judge?

How do you define child abuse when mercy is a matter of perspective in our culture?

In my mother's mind she was being more than merciful as she tried to make me her variety of perfect. Because she didn't feel she fit in, she tried to find a way to fit in by adopting me. When she discovered that she had no real control over making me, "perfect," she resorted to other means of control in order to feel more worthwhile.


As I got older, I knew in my heart that she just wanted me to go away. That is single-handedly the worst part of my child abuse story. In an odd way, the physical abuse was her sick way of showing me that she cared. It was when she wanted to make me invisible, that is when I feel she was her least merciful.  





Had she been merciful, I wouldn't be who I am today though. I wouldn't be able to talk about the unfairness of the word, "deserve." I wouldn't be able to identify the slackers and the underachievers. I wouldn't be outraged enough to pave the path I am creating for myself. I wouldn't be able to fully realize the pride I feel when I have REALLY changed someone's life for the better.


 
While I hate words like "owed," I am grateful because it is the easiest way to filter out people who lack a crucial lens. People who lack this lens are not able to fully appreciate the life they have. 

Those who feel like they are owed something, fight for all of the wrong reasons. 
I am not a fan of people who feel owed because most lack gratitude.


Once we start talking about what is owed or how we deserve a lifestyle or anyTHING else for that matter, I have to ask, "Why do other tremendously amazing people deserve a life of poverty or illness?" I am grateful for the way I was neglected because it prepared me for the brutal world in front of me. 

It is my job to find happiness where I can find it and when I do, I haven't earned it.. it hasn't been OWED to me. It is a deliberate choice I make to feel an emotion and nothing else. 




There are plenty of people who have "done the right thing" only to have life bitch slap them in the face. In the wake of life's disappointments, so many of us look for reasons and point fingers at those who have more than they do. So much progress is lost in our attempt at reasoning our foibles without really looking at the task at hand. 

What makes you happy?... if you can't find happiness in your life no matter what awful circumstance is presently at hand, then you are in some serious trouble. While THINGS matter little to me, positive relationships with people do. The right people won't expect you to earn their affection and the right people won't feel owed yours. Mercy isn't owed to us... neither is happiness. We are merely the mood we choose for ourselves on any given day. On the days when my adopted mom would bleach me and scream at me about how repulsive I was, I found happiness at the hands of my toilet paper people dolls. Had my mother never abused me, I wouldn't have had that experience. Being owed or earning had nothing to do with the equation. My choice to be happy despite her was all that mattered. God Bless.
ct





Thursday, February 21, 2013

Survival requires your belief in something bigger than you...


http://www.amazon.com/Toilet-Paper-People-Cherry-Tigris/dp/1453855343
When I was little, I made it a practice to ask the earth questions about what it wanted out of me… I would stare at cracks in the sidewalk or into murky mud puddles and ask “why…” The Earth always responded, “To make you ready.” I would then look up to the sky and ask it for the tools necessary to do the job. 

In response, the universe gave me the ability to witness brutality, it allowed me to be an innocent victim, it allowed me to fall down many, many times and gave me the strength to get up many, many times… it gave me the Toilet Paper People and other scrappy friends along the way… 

it gave me the confidence to weather a broken path every single day with a belief that is unflappable and TODAY after years of surviving volatile relationships that started when I was an infant and led to years of chosen homelessness and sacrifices not too many would make or who have labeled as stupid… 

I hear the peanut gallery every single day snickering, “you’re a pretty girl, why don’t you just get married…. you are choosing this suffering...” -- damn straight I am because this relationship I have with this thing that is bigger than I am is bigger than any relationship I will ever have with any one human. I am choosing what something bigger than me wants for me because one day, I might save your life.

This morning, I woke up to a car that barely makes it every time I have to go anywhere. I eat one meal a day, pretending that I’m not hungry... but MAN AM I HUNGRY to do what the Earth has asked out of me for all these years… but on days like this, I want to have the companionship of a dog. I miss the 'normal' things that other people take solace in, like houses and video games. I wonder how much more of this falling down I need to do before I stop listening to the cold hard ground. On days like today, I surrender to the lake for an hour and listen to it impatiently. I beg, “I keep doing everything you ask of me and I am scared. I’m really, really scared”… I then look up to the sky and cry, “I CAN’T DO THIS ALL BY MYSELF…” Its response was deafening, “of course you can’t” – and delivered (in spades)… TODAY.