March 28: Walking for SMD

The walking trail took me along the river today and as I was walking, I was really thinking about how life is filled with hardships and with choices.  SMD has had numerous hardships and has survived both childhood abuse and neglect as well as abusive relationships.  Today, SMD is a survivor that is thriving.

One thing that really struck me is that one brush of violence leave ripples across an entire lifetime. One swipe can eat away at the heart and the mind and can cause us to make bad choices without us even realizing it.  We move forward, sometimes remember every detail of that violence and other times forgetting it, but the ripple is there, growing larger and larger like a pebble thrown into a river.

But this pebble isn't small, it is a large bolder that makes itself known and it becomes a cycle of abuse that is very hard to break.  The cycle can be broken, the ripples from that rock can be stilled, life can become beautiful and be filled with meaning.

SMD has dealt with that ripple and while I would love to go on about her story, there really is just a few lines that I would love for her to see. These are:

You are a strong woman who I am honored to know.  You care deeply for others, you are intelligent and you deserve happiness. Thank you for sharing your story with me and I am honored that you allowed me to walk with you.  I know that you have overcome so much to be the wonderful woman that you are today.

So these miles are for you SMD!

Mileage: 4.365
Total: 11.939

Due to a few commitments, I was not able to walk during Saturday and on Sunday, I didn't have as much time as I would have liked so I simply walked for survivors again.

If you would like me to walk for someone, please email me at sirena.van@sympatico.ca

My 1000 miles challenge was inspired by Angela Giles Klocke and her own 1000 miles journey.  You can find Angela's journey at Scars and Tiaras.  Please visit her site and her facebook page to learn more about how you can get involved in the 1000 miles challenge.

March 27: Walking for Family

Today was a hard day.  I put off walking until late in the afternoon, finally forcing myself out the door at 4pm.  I had a dozen excuses not to walk. My legs hurt from the last two days.  The weather was horrible with a mixture of rain and snow. It was too cold in the morning; too wet in the afternoon. But while I had a lot of excuses, I knew the one excuse was that today I was walking for my family.

And the family wasn't my kids or husband; it was my siblings and my mom, my aunts and uncles, anyone in my family that had been touched by violence in one way or another.  I hesitated this morning because I wasn't sure if I should walk for them.  I wasn't sure if they wanted me to or not but I finally decided to do it.  As you can tell, doubts still affect me and it was a test to overcome the doubt of my family.

But families do deserve to be recognized, not just mine but every survivor's family. That is something that we often forget...every survivor has a family and regardless of how insular the violence can be, others can't help but be touched by it.  I have seen it in the face of a friend/coworker whose sister was murdered.  They never caught the murderer but I saw the haunted pain in her eyes as she would talk to me about it on her breaks.  I have seen it in the words of another woman I knew, who wanted her adult children to know about the horrible rape she had suffered at the age of 16. She was hurt that her family couldn't speak to her about it, devastated that they turned away, tears in their eyes begging her to stop, that they didn't want to know. But her counselor had said something that stuck with me as well...it is not the duty of our children to bear our past because the weight of the future is more than enough.

I guess that is why I was hesitant to walk for my family, because I was witness to their pain but it is not my story to tell.  I did tell part of it though.  Nine years ago, I sat down and wrote my childhood down. It was painful at times but it was also cathartic.  For me, writing down my story was what I needed to move past it and I just wrote the bad memories.

What was left in me were the happy memories.  The laughter, the love that we shared.  It wasn't that the bad memories were erased but they were exorcised.  They didn't hold onto me like they used to and I could laugh.  I could tell silly stories of me falling asleep on my bike and both my brother and I falling onto the gravel road.  Or how my oldest brother taught me how to use nun chucks, managing to bash me in the head in the process; I had a dark purple goose egg at my temple for several weeks after that.

I remember the days drifting lazily in the water of the lake with my sister or how the first time she convinced me to swim across it, she told me it was bottomless in the middle.  My kids laughed when I told them how I had forced her to walk through dense forest and then down a highway for about a mile in nothing but our bathing suits and bare feet after we finally made it all the way across.  There was no way I could swim after that (although the second time she convinced me, I made it both ways and it created a daily ritual for me).

I could remember the memories of my mom and how every kid in town called her mom when she owned her own arcade.  How one day a man came into the arcade to rob her.  She didn't know what he had planned but the kindness of her heart made her offer him free hot dogs, donuts and coffee.  She even gave him a brown paper bag that he took to the convenience store  and had them fill with their cash register.  While she felt awful about the convenience store, it showed how kindness can change an action.

Writing that story made it possible to see that there were times when we were happy.

So today, when I walked for my family, I walked with happy memories running through my mind.  I walked knowing that regardless of how far away we are that I will always love them and they will always be in my heart. Thank you for everything that you have done and the strength you have given me to be who I am today.

Mileage: 2.563
Total: 7.574

If you would like me to walk for someone, please email me at sirena.van@sympatico.ca

My 1000 miles challenge was inspired by Angela Giles Klocke and her own 1000 miles journey.  You can find Angela's journey at Scars and Tiaras.  Please visit her site and her facebook page to learn more about how you can get involved in the 1000 miles challenge.

March 26: Walking for Victims and Survivors of Violence and Abuse

Today marked the first day in the walk that I was walking for someone other than myself.  I didn't pick a name today, instead, I chose to walk for everyone who has been touched by violence or abuse in some way; whether you are a victim, a survivor or someone you love is a survivor.

One thing that I thought about as I set out on my walk is that we often think that we are alone.  If we disclose, everyone we know will abandon us or not believe us.  In some cases, some of the people that we rely on do, in fact, leave but it is never about you. It is simply that they cannot grasp the pain that is endured by many around the world.  It is more about them and their foibles than it is about you and if they cannot be there for you when you need them most, then they were never there in the first place.

But those are not the people that we look at.  The people that matter will be there for you and there are always other people; survivors, counselors, loved ones, and even strangers, that will be there for you.  They will help you overcome the pain of your past and lead you to a future that you deserve.

So today I walked for all of you and I wasn't alone in my walk.  Instead, I walked with you in my head and heart; the steady thump of my dog's feet at my side.  The world opened up around me.  It started off gray, we are still in the grip of winter, but as I walked through the trees, sunlight trickled down onto us.  The snow is still here, the trees still barren but as I walked, I noticed the spaces where I can see grass.  As I walked, I could feel the warmth of the sunlight and see the squirrels scurrying over the snow.  As I walked, I could hear the birds singing and all of it felt like hope.

And that is where my walk took me today...to the realization that no matter how dark the winter, spring will come and with it hope.

Mileage: 2.741

Total: 5.011/1,000

Daisy standing guard while I took the photo.

If you would like me to walk for someone, please email me at sirena.van@sympatico.ca

My 1000 miles challenge was inspired by Angela Giles Klocke and her own 1000 miles journey.  You can find Angela's journey at Scars and Tiaras.  Please visit her site and her facebook page to learn more about how you can get involved in the 1000 miles challenge.

1000 Miles: The First Miles are For Me 2.270

The first miles are for me.  That is how I started this project and it was inspired by Angela Giles Klocke who started her journey in January.  You can read about her journey and her challenge at http://scarsandtiaras.com/1000-miles. 

My journey started yesterday with me walking 2.270 miles.  I had planned on only starting with a mile but I continued on after that first mile and kept walking.  I wanted to start right but I wasn’t sure if I could continue walking after that first mile.  Still, I made it and over and felt proud of myself. It was a challenge and like many aspects of my past, I overcame it.

But why am I walking?  If you haven’t read the scars and tiaras blog, I am walking for the same reason as Angela Giles Klocke...to honor those who have been lost, those who have been victimized, those who have survived and those who are on the path to thriving from the effects of abuse, violence, neglect and mistreatment. 

Every step that I take in this journey will be for others but these first miles are for me.  If you haven’t realized from much of my blog, I suffered from childhood abuse.  It was hard coming to terms with all that I had suffered but after seeking counselling for it in my 20’s, I was able to overcome many of the feelings of self doubt that I had.  However, the journey from survivor to someone who thrives is not an easy one and there are times that my self confidence is hit hard, the scars that have healed will, at times, hurt from past memories but every year, as I build up my confidence, they don’t hurt as often or as much.

I am blessed to have a loving husband that has helped me through much of my healing process and I am blessed to be a mother.  The things I want for my children are so much more than what I had for myself and every part of me goes into creating a better life for my family.

And they are thrilled that I am doing this.  My own children have asked to come along on some of the walks, especially on the weekends, and I will be taking the journey with my own companion.  For shorter days, I will be walking with my English Mastiff and for longer days, I will be walking with my Labrador Retriever. 

So What Are You Doing Exactly?

Like Angela GilesKlocke, every day, I will be walking for someone whose life has been touched by abuse or violence.  I will place their name or initials on a note card and I will carry their name as I walk.

During the walk, I will take a picture of the card and post it here on the blog, on the facebook page and also on my twitter account.  I will share stories if I am asked to. 

Each walk will be dedicated to one person or one family and I will not carry more than one so that each walk is special to those people. 

How Long will You Walk?

Every day will be different and will depend on the weather, how I am feeling, my commitments during that day and also the day of the week.  I hope to walk at least 2 miles every day but there will be days when the walk will be shorter and days when the walk will be longer.

In total, my goal is to walk 1000 miles in honor of victims and survivors of abuse and violence in one year.  So by March 25^th, 2015, I will have 1000 miles down.  

Will You Walk for Me or My Loved One?

Yes, I would be honored to walk for you or your loved one.  Simply send me a message to sirena.van@sympatico.ca with the following:

Subject: Please Walk for _____________

In the body of the email, let me know any information that you would like me to share on the blog post.  In addition, please let me know if you would like me to write something important on the card such as “Survivor” or “RIP”.   You can use initials or first name, or a full name.  You can also share a bit of the history or nothing at all. This is completely up to you.   

What will Happen If You Don’t Have Anyone to Walk For?

Sadly, there is always someone to walk for and if it comes down to me not having a name on my list for someone to walk for, then I will find a name in the news. On those days, I will write down the name and will walk in honor of that person. 

Does It Cost Money for you to Walk in My Honor?

No, I am not asking for any monetary compensation so please do not send me any. If you would like to donate, please donate to a local charity for survivors of violence and abuse.

Since this campaign was inspired by Angela’s Scars and Tiaras walk, if you are not sure of a charity to give to but would like to donate to one, please use the charity that Angela is directing funds to.  This is the Tellar Safe Habor, which is trying to fund the creation of a safe house in their area.  You can donate to them here http://tellercountysafehouse.org/help.html.

How do you Track your Mileage?

I am using both a pedometer and I am charting my course on a map site before I head out.  Every day, I will start from my front door and take a different route before returning home. 

If you have any questions for me, please let me know.  I have already started my 1000 miles with 2.270 miles being finished.  Yesterday, I walked for me, today, I will be walking for all the victims of violence and abuse but I have already started adding names for my walk.  If you would like me to walk in honor of you or someone you know, please send me an email.

Thank you for your support as I walk these 1000 miles.

Who I am walking for this week

March 25: Sirena Van Schaik

March 26: Survivors and Victims of Violence and Abuse

March 27: Family

March 28: SMD - Survivor of Childhood Neglect, Rape and Spousal Abuse

March 29: 

March 30: Lisa Seeber - RIP March 22, 2014, Victim of Murder/Suicide

My 15th Wedding Anniversary

15 years ago, I said I do to my true love.

I met him when I was 16 and when people ask how we met, I don’t have the romantic story, the meet cute as it were.  I merely stumbled into the room, the bravado of youth on my lips as my 18 year old, best friend remarked at my appearance, “Sirena, you look like shit.”

I want to say that I answered the statement with decorum and grace but I didn’t.  I was a 16 year old girl after all and I had been running around gathering the supplies for said friend’s baby shower.  So my reply was as colorful as the gift wrapped presents in my bag, “Of course I look like shit. I have been running my ass all over this fucking town for you.”

And with that said, I turned to find three, very stunned people standing behind me.  James, his sister and his mother, all of them down from Ontario for the baby shower.  I remember my face turning 50 shades of red as I murmured an apology and I felt flustered as James stared at me, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth.  He has told me over the years that he fell in love with me at that moment.  I have always laughed and said, “Well, at least you knew what you were getting before you bought it.”

James had come down to British Columbia to meet his baby nephew.  We spent the next 2 weeks getting to know each other and while we didn’t say much, I felt a connection to him.  The morning he left to go back to Ontario, I felt my heart break and I couldn’t explain why.  I cried for the opportunity I was losing and I spent the hours before everyone woke up wishing that I could see him again.

I did, within a month, James had moved to BC and within a few weeks, we were dating.  He didn’t ask me out.  There were no dates.  One day we weren’t together, playing sword fights in the autumn sun with a large group of friends; laughing as the empty, 2 litre pop bottles that we were brandishing as swords smashed against one another.  And then we were; walking together as the warmth of the autumn day disappeared into a crisp evening and he wrapped his arms around me to fight off the chill.  And I realized then that I had found something special, something that meant so much more than the school girl crushes that I had had before.

When I was 17, I moved in with James, much to the dismay of my mother but I ignored her words and in the middle of our latest fight, I packed my bags and stormed out.  Maybe it wasn’t the best way to start my life with James but things are what they are.

It wasn’t right for me to start it the other way either, when I stood in front of him, telling him all the things that I wouldn’t put up with...

“If you hit me, I’ll leave you...”

“If we have kids together and you hit them, we’ll leave you and you will never see them again...”

“If you cheat on me, if you had loved me at all, don’t lie to me; tell me so we can let each other go...”

“I won’t marry you...ever...so don’t ask.”

Scars rained down on him with my words.  All the pain, hurt, distrust that had broken me by this point were laid bare at his feet and all he could say to me was,

“I won’t hit you; I love you.”

“I won’t hit my kids; I love you.”

“I won’t cheat; I love you.”

“And maybe someday...”

And during those first few months together, when I would wake up in the middle of the night, tears wracking my body, he wouldn’t pull me close.  He would lie still, staring at my back as I cried and it was in those moments that I felt safest.  He didn’t touch me, didn’t force me to take comfort from him.  On nights when I wanted to rail against the world, against him, he would quietly accept it, rising to the challenge of my fight.   James knew from the very beginning what I needed and he would wait patiently for me to return to bed.  To fall asleep against him as his arms were finally able to wrap themselves around me and protect me from all the hurt that plagued my dreams. I fell in love with him more every day as I realized that his words and actions were the same.

By 18, James realized BC was not where he wanted to be and he made the decision to move back to Ontario.  He asked me to go with him.  At first I said no, but at the thought of losing him, of not taking that step wrenched my heart from me and I said yes.  Waiting for the plane was one of the scariest moments of my life.  I was giving myself completely to the man sitting beside me and I was trusting in him to keep me safe in the strange place I was heading.

And life went on. I learned new things, met new people and I realized that my home didn’t have to be in BC.  It was here with the man I loved.  But still, I couldn’t make the commitment.  He would ask and I would say no, I am not getting married...

...at 18, I laughed.

...at 19, I cried.  “How could you want a girl that was already broken when you met her?”

But I wasn’t sure if I was broken anymore. I felt the scars, felt the hard lines on my soul and I knew that he was slowly fixing me. Making me trust, making me hope, making me realize that I was worth something...worth loving.

So I didn’t scoff at his idea of marriage as much and when we decided to get married, it wasn’t him getting down on bended knee; he knew me better than I knew myself, knew that it would frighten me away.  He waited for me to say the words, to tell him that I was ready for something more.  And when I did, he jumped at the chance and we started planning our wedding.

It wasn’t until a month before our wedding that he took me out for a romantic dinner and then walked me down by the river.  He stopped by a large pine tree, its needles green with life; he got down on his knee and asked me to marry him.  In his nervousness, he slipped the ring on the wrong finger and I laughed to hide the tears in my eyes as I said, “Did you think I was going to say no this close to the day? You’re mother would kill me.”

When the wedding day arrived, I didn’t panic like I have heard other brides have done.  I went to sleep the night before, a letter of love that James had written sitting on my pillow, and I woke up feeling calm.  There were no doubts, no second thoughts that had me wondering if I should call it off. At the age of 21, a young bride to many, I was ready.  So I said I do to my true love and realized that the part I thought had been broken wasn’t anymore and it was the man standing before me that had fixed it...fixed me.

And today, as I celebrate our 15^th wedding anniversary and 20 years together, I say I do again.  The years have flown by.  We have had good times, bad times and even boring times.  We have held each other, cried together, celebrated the birth of not one, but two, amazing children.  We have found each other again and again when we have drifted apart.  Through it all, James has kept the promises that he made to that scared 17 year old girl and he has made and fulfilled new ones along the way.

I am so thankful for my life with my husband.  Thankful that he was patient with the broken girl he found swearing in a kitchen and helped her find her way.  Without him I would not be whole.  He is my everything and I could not imagine a day without him.  So James, today, I want you to know that I love you with all my soul and I am honored that you spent the last 20 years with me and look forward to 50 more.