It’s time for my weekly check in. Thank you all so much for putting up with me- the accountability of these Monday posts is really helping me to stay on track. I hope you’ll stick with me through all my thoughts today. I wrote most of this post last week, before the headlines that upset us all and which I will NOT BE DISCUSSING. I realize this may still be a little too much too soon for some people. Thank you for being here.

You may remember that I’m not going for thin here- I’m going for STRONG. There are a lot of reasons for that. I have kids to raise, and they are going to need protecting until they are big enough to protect themselves. While they are growing, I have to show them how to stand up for themselves and to stand tall- literally and figuratively. I have to teach them how to protect others when they need it. I cannot do those things if I’ve reduced myself to two dimensions in the hopes of looking like a picture out of a magazine.

I was looking for recommendations for fitness videos on YouTube and found a link to a YouTube channel (sorry, I’m not going to link it, you’ll just have to take my word for it) where the fitness instructor looks like a living skeleton with enormous breast implants. Ironically, she makes many references to “sexy curves.” Her featured video started to play and she was talking about how to resistance train without getting “bulky.” It made me a little sick. (I’m not trying to tear her down, I know she works hard and I believe she has great intentions. I hope there are people who’ve been inspired to make positive changes in their lives because of her. I’m not blaming her; I’m just using my reaction to her work to illustrate my point about something that’s way bigger than either of us.)

Why are we still, now, in 2012 (almost 2013) telling women that they should not be STRONG? Why are we telling each other that we wouldn’t want to “bulk up?” Unless you are taking steroids, trust me, nothing you do is going to make you look like the Terminator, so just get strong. Please. So you can stand up for yourself. So you can stand up for your kids. So you believe in you, not in some fantasy ideal that can’t exist in the real, solid world. It makes me mad that we are telling each other this, and it makes me mad that we are telling our daughters these things.

It makes me mad because every once in a while, a friend of mine confides that her husband is slapping her around. (And by “every once in a while,” I mean way too *&^%ing often. Oh, and if you are reading this and wondering if the most recent incident was YOUR wife, know that next time, it might be.) I’m not saying that this couldn’t happen if she was stronger, but I think that doing what it takes to be stronger gives women resources to draw on. Physical strength to protect themselves. Inner strength to help them through the aftermath. And, I hope and pray, a community of strong, loving people to whom they can turn for support. Because a woman in this position is going to need all the strength and support she can get.

On the one hand, when a friend confides in you that she’s not safe in her own home, you want to scream, “GET OUT. GET YOUR KIDS OUT. I’M GETTING MY KEYS. I’LL BE RIGHT THERE, and I’m bringing the FRICKING CAVALRY.” But, in your heart of hearts, you know that a woman who is in this position needs the power to make her own decisions. I also know that because of the way our courts work, she might not be able to protect her kids without a long and carefully thought out exit strategy. Prosecuting her abuser may be difficult or impossible. Taking legal actions to protect herself might push him to greater violence. Taking non-legal actions might cost her more than she can handle. There is nothing simple here.

So, if I could be talking about you, know this. You are loved. There are people who will help you. This is not your fault. Please read that again and again until you believe it. It’s not your fault. You are loved. And call me. I’ll get my keys. Or come on over. This is a safe place. I’m not judging you. Show up without shoes on your feet or diapers for the baby. It’s ok. I’ll make cake. You can have a cup of tea. Rest here a while.

And if you are the abuser-  I SEE YOU. Your wife is not invisible. Your secret is not safe with me, because your wife is not safe. I can and do feel compassion for you as a human being, but it stops the minute you put your hands on her or your kids. If you’re still sane enough to be ashamed of yourself, you can do the right thing. Call your pastor, call a doctor, call SOMEONE and tell them what you’ve done. Find a place to stay until your family is safe from you. Have the locks changed on yourself. Get help. Put your family first.

The rest of you- you’re the fricking cavalry. I’m appointing you to that position. Because until both the victims and the perpetrators of violence in the home know that we will come, every time, no questions asked, this will keep happening. Keep an eye on your friends, and if you see something that worries you, ask your friend if she is safe. Remind her that she’s loved. Tell her it’s not her fault. Don’t let her feel invisible. Tell her she shouldn’t feel ashamed and that you are listening. And come join me. Let’s get STRONGER. Let’s be that loving community of strong friends to whom she can turn, again and again.

Keep showing up even when she doesn’t leave. Keep showing up even if she goes back. Even if she defends him. Because if we don’t, we are sending the message that she’s right to give in. She is right to be afraid of her husband. She’s right not to leave her boyfriend, because he is so dangerous that even those of us who are safe in our own homes don’t have the guts to face him down. And we send HIM the message that he’s safe. That he can keep hitting or choking or kicking her and her kids every time he feels small or angry or stressed out, because we don’t care enough to do anything about it. We are sending the message that it is okay for him to do whatever he likes, even if that is something that makes our stomach turn. Even if it kills her.

And that is not okay. That’s not okay with me, and I know it’s not okay with you. So, welcome to the cavalry. I wish I could tell you it’s a happy place to be, but it’s not. It’s an angry, angry place where you have to make yourself look at things you’d rather turn away from. It’s a place that will make you hold your kids a little tighter and kiss your partner a little harder. It’ll make you uncomfortable. It’ll make you want to be STRONG.

Monday Progress Report:

I feel like I should specify here that I’m tracking my TOTAL progress. So when I say + or -, I mean vs. day 1, not since my last progress report. It helps me to keep the big picture in mind, so I don’t get discouraged on weeks where progress is smaller.

Day: 36
The scale has moved: -11 lbs
The inches have changed: -12 inches
I feel: STRONGER.
I’ve walked: 41.31 miles and counting!

I am aware that not only women are the victims of domestic violence. My personal experience only extends to women abused by their male significant others, and I wrote this from my experience. If that isn’t you but you cannot trust the ones who are supposed to love you, please know that I’m talking to you, too. You are loved. You deserve to be safe. Please, please, please get help.