Overcoming Subversive Violence a Lesson in Singing to the Moon

It took me falling in love to learn how truly broken I was. 

You never know how many messages about loving wrong are ingested from the toxic relationships you grow up seeing, until you start performing that toxicity yourself. 
I grew up around violence. Physical and Verbal. It was there barefaced, omnipresent. I remember swearing off toxic relationships, saying that I would never love enough to be abused, that I would never hate enough to abuse. 
And I did just that, I never entered into relationships in which I was physically/ verbally abusive or abused.
But he happened. He was not the emotional abuse of my mother. He was not the physical abuse of my father. He felt like freedom, tasted like it. I fell. He became love and I thought I was healed.
But the funny thing with direct violence is that it covers all the subtle, visceral messages that the abused start to carry with them. I never knew that the batterings my mother took, became mine. 
When he would manipulate me.  I told myself it wasn’t as bad as a beating. He would lie and it wasn’t as bad as a beating. He would cheat. and still it wasn’t as bad as beating. When I said no, he did not listen. I still believed it to be better than beating. I fell deeper. For this was love. 
Then came the dreams. The memories I had hidden and buried so deeply.
My hockey stick being swung at my mother.
the indiscernible yelling
abuse being hurled at my father.
my father’s hands around my mothers throat.
Her saying no and him carrying on, because at least that was not a beating.
These memories came to me when I believed myself to be at my happiest, my most free. it was like being shook awake by own conscience. It was a painful awakening, opening a thousand wounds and I realised I could close one. So I left, I left him. But I carry him everywhere with me, he was an important lesson.  
A lesson that taught me that the scars we have engraved in our hearts, minds and memories are the hardest to heal. But that they will heal, if we recognise them first as scars.

At this stage of my life Laura Mvula’s album Sing to the Moon was the soundtrack to my life. Before I could express in words what I was feeling, before I could even allow myself to feel and confront my pain, “Sing to the Moon” were my words. 
Sing to the Moon: Laura Mvula
Hey there you, shattered in a thousand pieces
Weeping in the darkest nights
Hey there you, try to stand up on your own two feet
And stumble into the sky
When the lights go out and you’re on your own
How you’re gonna make it through till the morning sun’
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, lead you to the other side
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, heaven’s gonna turn the tide
Hey there you, looking for a brighter season
Need to lay your burden down
Hey there you, drowning in a hopeless feeling
Buried under deeper ground
When the lights go out it’s a waiting game
Never gonna see a day when your world will change
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, lead you to the other side
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, heaven’s gonna turn the tide
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, lead you to the other side
Sing to the moon and the stars will shine
Over you, heaven’s gonna turn the tide
Songwriters: Laura Mvula / Steven James Brown

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s