Still Crying: The pain of corporal punishment doesn’t end when the spanking is over

Last year, in the early stages of my first blog: Enigma, I wrote a post about my experiences with being beaten (spanked) as a child. I wrote about “spanking” through the eyes of my childhood memories, and it really resonated with people. I have experienced years of painful repercussions because of my parent’s choice to “spank” me. I wonder if they would have made a different choice if they had been able to see the harm they would cause.

 One of the main reasons I blog is to try and make a difference for children who live like I once did. Statistics show that in the US, 90% of children are still “spanked” by their parents. I hope a young parent somewhere will read my words and think twice about heading down the path to corporal punishment.

This week I got a bright idea. I want to compile a collection of stories from victims of spanking. I want parents of young children to be able to see the issue from words that could someday belong to their child. People who want to participate can write a short post, about 100-300 words in regards to the issue of spanking, and I will post them one at a time into an album on my blog.

You can write your post in a number of different formats.

1.)   Letter to your parents: Write a letter to your parents. Tell them how their choice to spank you has harmed you. Tell them about how it affected you then, and how it continues to affect you now. (Feel free to include any information on alternatives to spanking that you have found effective.)

2.)   Letter to parents of young children: Write a cautionary letter to parents. Tell them why and how the practice of spanking affected (and continues to affect) you. (Feel free to include any information on alternatives to spanking that you have found effective.)

3.)   Letter to parents of young children (2): Write a letter explaining why you as a parent chose to stop spanking your children. Include your experiences and the factors that most made you change your mind. (Feel free to include any information on alternatives to spanking that you have found effective.)

4.)   Informational piece: Write a few paragraphs on why you believe spanking is damaging for children. Include any personal experience, or just some facts that made you come to your conclusion. (Feel free to include any information on alternatives to spanking that you have found effective.)

5.)   Creative: If you find it hard to express yourself with just words, please feel free to submit a more unique commentary. I will accept drawings, photos, videos, art work or poetry to this project as well. (Feel free to include any information on alternatives to spanking that you have found effective.)

You may include citations if you use any sources other than your own experience. You may also request to post anonymously if you chose, or if you feel your experiences are too personal to share under your real name. If you are a blogger, (and you give me permission,) I will link your submission back to your blog when I post it.

Whether you are contributing or not, please feel free to share this project on your blog/facebook/twitter/ etc.  I would like to get as many voices on this project as possible, so get the word out!!

Please email me with any questions. Submissions for the initial post are due by July 8th, however, I will continue to accept contributions indefinitely to add to the collection.

STEPS:

1.)   Email Sarah at whoiamwithoutyou1@gmail.com with any questions, and to let me know that you are interested in contributing.

2.)   SHARE this project with anyone you think might be interested. The more voices the better!

3.)   Write your 100-300 word post (or create your artistic submissions) and email it to me at whoiamwithoutyou1@gmail.com by July 8th
4.)   Keep an eye on my blog and Facebook for your post, and posts from others like you!

5.)   This project will remain open-ended, so feel free to share or submit AFTER July 8th

1 year of blogging!

Hello Friends :)

This morning I realized I've been blogging for an entire year now. I've had my blogger ups and downs, but things are running smoothly again. If you haven't friended me on facebook yet, please do! There are some exciting things going on over at my new blog and I would love for you all to be involved.

If you don't have facebook but you would still like the URL to my new blog, feel free to email me at whoiamwithoutyou1@gmail.com. Thank you all for your encouragement and support. It means the world to me!

So much love,

-Sarah <3

On Why I Am Certain I Will Never Be Good Enough

I got a text this morning from someone who knew me as a devout evangelical Christian. Our relationship isn’t as close now, mainly because of my faith questions. The text read,

“Praying for you this morning and God asked me to share this with you. ''I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness'' Jer 31:3”

I stared at the text for about 15 minutes before responding. “Thanks, have a great day!” I’m sure this person meant for the text to be uplifting and encouraging. But all it did was bring me down. The verse itself is nice; I like the idea of unshakable, unconditional love. What irked me was the reference to this person’s morning prayers. Apparently, she got a message directly from God in which He guided her to a verse and asked her nicely to share it with me.

Really? Did the invisible, silent, and intangible god of the universe ASK YOU to share a verse with me? Not just a nudge, or a well planted idea, not even a chance breeze that turned the pages of your bible, but GOD himself physically ASKED YOU to share this verse with me?

This is how I know I will never be a good enough Christian. I was a biblical literalist, fundamentalist, God-fearing evangelical Christian for the first 18 years of my life, and never ONCE in all that time did God physically speak to me. I used to plead with my invisible, silent God for some kind of personal guidance. Everyone around me was claiming miracles and clear callings, and I just stayed home, begging “here I am Lord, send me.” And nothing.

My husband says that God doesn’t talk to him either. He gets his comfort and strength from God, he gets his moral compass from God, and then he goes about his business just like everybody else. No supernatural intervention needed. The less time I spend around evangelicals, the better I feel. I start to think that maybe God really is just an enormous force of unexplainable love that cares about people and inspires them to greater joy. I start to think that maybe I don’t need to compete with the God-whisperers. Maybe I can carry on in my quiet hopeful faith, and live side by side with other Christians, no questions asked…

And then I get texts like this one. They remind me of the Christian rat race I used to know. Everyone wants to know about your “walk” with God. Haven’t heard God’s voice lately? You’re doing something wrong. Haven’t seen any miracles lately? You must be letting sin blind you. Pray harder. Live better. YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

The God-box

Are you anything like me? Have you ever stood in front of the mirror, half horrified, and wondered who on earth is staring back at you? Who is that person with dark green eyes and lazy posture? What does she love?

                                                      What does she dream about?

                                                                                                           What does she want?

It used to be that I silenced those questions with the only answer I had ever learned: God. He was all I had been taught to want, all that I was allowed to need. I learned how to fold up my confusion, neatly like a napkin, and tuck it away in a box entitled: God. My hopes and dreams soon lived there too, stacked and dusty, next to ashes of my undeveloped identity. For 19 years they sat there, all the precious parts of me, ignored and forgotten. I walked around as a shell of a person, with the God-box strapped on my shoulders.

How did it happen? How did I come to the place where I was nothing but a shell? It started slowly.

At 8 years old I wanted to be a singer.

                    

Broadway.

My first dream.

“Theatre is not a safe place for a girl. The world is full of evil people. Trust in the Lord, he will show you how to use your talent for His glory!”

From that point on, I knew. God was the only acceptable answer to every question.

Emotions? God. 

Relationships? God.

Self worth? God.

Aspirations? God.

                                  God.

                                              God.

One day, the God-box got too heavy; so I threw it off. As it hit the ground, it shattered into a million pieces, taking part of me with it. I was told that the God-box was the perfect investment. I thought it would make me complete, I thought it would tell me who I was; I thought it would teach me to be happy. I had invested everything in the box, and it had failed me. I do not know who I am apart from God; all I know is that I should know.

And now here I am, standing in front of the mirror again, trying to guess at who is staring back at me. Every day I learn a little more, and the guilt of leaving the God-box lessens. Every day, as I pick through the rubble of my identity, I find old sparks of things that make me smile. I invite you to come along with me as I learn who I am. I am hoping to find that I am worth more than a title.

I am hoping to learn that I don’t belong in a God-box.

Teenage Identity Crisis

Every kid reaches that age where they struggle to discover who they really are. It is natural to the process of growing up. We stop defining ourselves by our family, and start defining ourselves by our friends. We naturally want to push the limits, push our bodies, and push the rules. During this time, our dreams and feelings are larger than life, and Oh-so-real. Parents often make the mistake of shrugging off the teenage years as a “faze” in which their kids are overcome by hormones. They often chuckle behind closed doors about the latest “teenage moment” and make their kids feel patronized and misunderstood. Parents long for the day that their teen’s hormone levels will normalize and they will have an adult on their hands instead of a large, moody child. Talking and listening to your teenager is the best thing you can do for them. As young adults, all we want is to be taken seriously, and to be heard. The teenage years are a beautiful, fragile time in which children become adults.

In a Fundamentalist Christian household, the teenage years can be a very different story. My parents didn’t want their daughters to grow up. Ever. We were trained to serve and submit from an early age. Pushing the limits was NEVER tolerated. Emotions were either irrelevant, or labeled as rebellion. As early as age 11, I remember having those “teenage moments” of huge emotion. Like every kid, I felt misunderstood and unjustly suppressed. Instead of being asked how I felt, or what was wrong, I was taught that my emotions were the manifestation of my sinful nature.

Tired and sore in all the wrong places? Laziness, Sloth.

Sad, depressed? = Bad Attitude, Selfishness.

Anger? = Rebellion.

Whenever I showed emotion, my mother would be disappointed. “this is isn’t the Sarah I know!” she would say. “who are you trying to imitate?” She wouldn’t let me see my friends anymore. Not even my cousins. Because I was “copying” them and not acting like the sweet happy daughter she knew. Instead of asking me what was wrong, or how I felt, she questioned my identity. As a teenager, I was already struggling to discover myself. She told me that she knew me better than anyone else. I tried so hard to be who she wanted me to be. How could she love someone who wasn’t her daughter anymore? I second guessed every word I said. I was paranoid that my motives were impure, that I was a copy cat, that I had no personality. I am still struggling to trust myself, all these years later.

 I remember at around age 13 I rolled my eyes at my dad. This was a BIG no-no. Sighing, stomping, folding my arms, and rolling my eyes were all deserving of a spanking. He grew angry and ordered me to come to him for a spanking. The injustice of it all welled up in my chest and I suddenly shouted out “No!” He was shocked. I was terrified. My legs took over and I took off running down the hall. I had never run from him before. He caught me, in what turned out to be one of my worst memories of my dad. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me into the bathroom. I tried to apologize, but he mashed my face into the corner. I screamed and I cried and I begged, and I hated myself for every “I’m sorry” and every “please stop.” I had hand prints on my arms and bruising on my face. The wooden spoon left bruises all over my newly developing body. And I hated myself. My mouth had betrayed me. If I hadn’t shouted that word this would never have happened. My body had betrayed me as well. If I hadn’t ran away, my punishment would not have been so severe.

 I hated myself for not having total control over my sin nature. I started cutting myself. I picked apart shavers with a pair of tweezers and saved the individual razor blades. It was freeing to exercise this type of control. It was like bleeding out all my emotions so they could not cause me problems throughout the day. It was freeing, it was addicting, it was frightening. My body learned to crave punishment, and I learned to oblige. When growth spurts made me so hungry it hurt, I agonize over every bite I ate. I would stare for hours in the mirror, begging for the courage to deny myself these gluttonous urges. I cut myself again and again. For every extra bite, for every surge of anger, for every misplaced tear.

My parents were happy with me. I was showing self control. I was being their sweet compliant daughter again. My mother was happy to have me back. She thought she knew me so well. Thought she had encouraged me right back into the girl I used to be. But every conversation was tailored to please. I had no idea who I was anymore. I was a bloody, torn mess, buried under a hard shell called Self Control.

 Parents, your children are going to change. Please let them. Don’t pretend to know them. Ask them questions, listen to them talk, and understand that their reality is just as important as your own. Don’t use the teenage identity crisis as an excuse to avoid meaningful conversation. You’re children will grow and change whether you want them to or not.

If you want to have any influence on the rest of their lives, embrace them for who they are.

Conservative Christian Speaks out Against Misogyny

A few months ago, Reverend Jesse Lee Peterson posted a video on youtube in which he blamed women for all of societies problems. "It's unfortunate that men are so weak that they allow these women to just run wild, and screw up everything, including their souls, and their children." He said. "And if you speak up about it, Satan got it set up, through the women, that you're going to be punished in some way." From behind the pulpit, he insisted women are incapable of leadership, and that they should not be allowed to vote. Think I'm kidding? Watch it for yourself here. When I first saw the video, it was all I could talk about for days.

About a week ago, Peterson was on the Hannity show on Fox News. I didn't see it because I don't watch Fox News. But my husband, who is a staunch conservative, watches regularly. Kirsten Powers was on Hannity at the same time, and she interrupted Hannity in the middle of a segment and asked Peterson to explain his misogynistic youtube rant. Neither Hannity nor Fox news saw fit to address the subject and the whole event was swept neatly under the rug.

My husband, who generally shrugs off my feminist tirades, surprised me today by writing a letter to Hannity, calling him out on his choice of guests and friends. He sent the letter to Fox News, Hannity himself, and the station that broadcasts the Hannity Radio program. 

Dear Mr. Hannity,

I am a 21 year old married college student and a lifelong  advocate of conservatism.  I appreciate what you have done and continue to do to advance the cause of freedom in our Country. Recently an exchange on your show between Reverend Jesse Lee Peterson and Kirsten Powers piqued my interest.  I soon found myself watching a video in which Mr. Peterson delivers a sermon filled with indefensible comments about women, including that they should have never been granted the right to vote and that women are responsible for the introduction of all the evils we face in the modern age. I do not toe the line that there is an organized war on women, and for that reason I believe a statement like this must not go unrecognized. As a Christian, I understand that every man, woman, and child is born with original sin. To suggest that women are disproportionately guilty of bringing evil into our world is not only cowardly and self serving, but poor theology. Frankly, Mr. Peterson is not fit to be on local TV network, let alone a show with your reach and influence and preaching the Word of God.  I implore you to at the very least make a statement condemning a painfully obvious example of sexism (fuel for the "war on women" argument) that originated from a conservative contributor to your very show. If you choose not to address this issue then I understand that either this man's friendship means more to you than the credibility of your show and the conservative movement, or that you yourself agree with the egregious statements made by Rev. Peterson.

Sincerely,

--------------------

 [Enigma's Husband]

 Let's see if it goes anywhere, after all, I'm sure Fox and Friends will listen more closely to a Conservative Christian man...

Raised Quiverfull

Libby Anne is publishing a new series over at her blog Love, Joy, Feminism. It is a set of questions and answers from adults who were raised in patriarchal, quiverfull, evangelical homes. Libby interviewed 9 men and women including myself, and she is publishing a new segment a few times per week. It's a great series, you should check it out!