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December 04, 2019

Natasha Medlar presents the first of our TRUTH Series; the focus of the first segment being on Men and Domestic Violence. In this segment we will hear from a few men whom have been brave enough to come forward and share their own personal stories of having survived Domestic Violence in one or more of the various forms. We will also hear from a few men on their opinions and thoughts about Domestic Violence being inflicted on women.

“My intentions for all various segments of the TRUTH series is to educate others who may not be aware of such issues, whether it’s because it has never been a challenge they themselves have faced, or whether they don’t choose to pay attention to global news, to educate those whom are aware but choose to ignore the issue/s and lastly to help encourage others in being brave in speaking out. As we know, knowledge is key.” – Natasha

As an advocate for Domestic Violence and having been an 8-year Survivor myself, I voice out time and time again that women are not the only victims; children, the elderly and MEN are also victims. The statistics may not be as considerably high as the statistics for women being abused, but there’s no denying the fact that there are many women who abuse men. Whether it be their children, their partners, their co-workers, friends and so on.

I truly commend the men featured in this series for breaking their silence and choosing to come forward on this platform. My intention by creating this series is to educate others who may not be aware of men also being victims, educating those whom are aware but choose to ignore the issue and lastly to help encourage other men to be brave in speaking out. Knowledge is key.

In this post we will be hearing from Anthony who has decided to remain anonymous, however chose to share his story in hopes of inspiring others who may be currently facing the battles he had once faced and overcame. His story touches on drug addiction, neglect, sexual gain and homelessness. His story is truly remarkable and moving, continue reading below for yourself…

 

Hearing the words “I love you” or “I am proud of you son” come out of my mother’s mouth is something I cannot recall hearing as a child growing up, nor even til now, being 31 years of age. Yet it is something I have had to learn the hard way in coming to grips with, regardless of how deeply it has affected me throughout my life thus far.

I was the unplanned baby or an “accident” as she refers to it; I was conceived in the back seat of my “father’s” truck.  My mother deeply loved my father; although they were never married, she was always referred by him as his wife. They had dated for a year and shortly after my mother fell pregnant with me, their relationship turned for the worst. My father’s cheating ways started to come to light, yet although this was already ongoing prior to my mother being pregnant with me, as she had only found out afterwards, the blame has always been put on me. According to my mother, I am the reason my father lost interest in her, I am the reason my father wanted to still have fun until I was to be born nine months later, I was the reason my father walked out on my mother.

My mother strangely enough was against abortions, however had tried to overdose on two occasions, in an attempt to be rid of me. I know this, because it was thrown in my face countless times while growing up. My mother would always tell me that if it wasn’t for me being born, my father wouldn’t have chosen to leave her a month prior. He walked out on her exactly 30 days before I was born, only to leave her with a note saying he wasn’t ready to settle down with her nor father a kid. Til this very day he has never attempted to contact either one of us; I don’t even know if he is still alive. At the same time, given the life I have had to endure, although curious of wanting to meet my dad, I decided not to pursue that avenue.

I could never understand why my mother hated me so much, no matter what I did it was never good enough nor to her standards. It would crush me inside whenever I would bring friends over after school to play / hang out and she would shower them with kindness, love and care I have never been shown til this day by her. Whenever these friends did visit or even family for that matter, she would try her best to fake smile and show fake love to me so that no one knew the truth. But they knew, it wasn’t genuine and I guess most people could see that, or maybe it was my reactions and body language towards this sudden change of treatment each time.

My mother never attended my school performances or any sporting match for that matter. Whenever people would ask where she was, some even hurtfully questioning if I really did even have a mother, I would have to lie and say she was working. When in reality she would most likely be out with her friends or at home doing nothing. She knew how heartbroken and depressed I was already not having a father nor mother present, but no care was given nor shown. To her I ruined her life and I was a constant reminder of my father, so she in turn wanted to ruin my life.

As you can imagine the result of this led me down a very dark hole from the age of 13; drug addiction, alcohol addiction and I had no care for women besides using them for sexual pleasure. It was all a thrill for me, although temporary. Once the feels were gone, I was back to my depressed state; trapped, alone and broken.  I was in and out of jobs from the age of 15 and even homeless countless times. Being homeless in severe weather conditions as hard as it was, was better than staying with my mother. I may have had no money, no clothes, no warm bed, no bedroom, I no longer had anything, but I had escaped her constant verbal and emotional abuse. This lasted on and off for a year further until I finally got back on feet.

The day I got back on my feet with a job and place to call home now secured, I was overwhelmed with tears. I cried for hours; I was now clean rid of any toxins in my body, I had been accepted for a great paying job, I had secured a room in a house share with a wonderful small group of people, I was now SOMEBODY. Somebody ready to make only the right choices in life as best as I could, no negativity surrounding me, I had gotten back on my feet without anybody’s help but the Lord above. I had learnt what stability and security was and for the first time in my life, I was finally happy, genuinely happy with a good conscious. I now felt untouchable, in a humbling way, untouchable in the sense that I swore to myself no one’s harsh words would no longer get me down. I had bettered myself and was a changed man, a man who had overcome some harsh battles.

Today I am now married to a wonderful woman who has been my rock and we have a beautiful 3-year-old son. I will admit at times it has been an adjustment in learning to accept the love and treatment my wife showers me with as I do her, but I’ve come a long way. I still have weekly sessions with a Therapist who has really helped mend me, starting from the root of the issue. I have not spoken to my mother since the age of 18 nor has she tried to reach out to me. I still live in the same neighbourhood that I did growing up as does she, so if she wanted to get in touch it wouldn’t be a difficult task. However, I have come to terms with it all and accepted it for what it is. My family is my wife and son and they have both shown me a love like I have never received nor known of and I do my best to always return it in tenfold.

Looking back 10 years ago, I would never have believed I would in future be this blessed. Life is truly what you make of it.

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