On Survivor Identity

Um, I do identify as a survivor, I self identify as a survivor advocate. Because not only am I a survivor, I talk about it. So I think survivor is definitely a noun and a verb. It's both things. It's- it's something tangible, reachable, but always in motion. So survivor to me is- is being an ongoing process. Not like I'm a work in progress, but an ongoing process. Does that make sense? For me, it was a revelation to go from victim to survivor. It happened for me in prison because I was tired of feeling hurt.

 Hurt by everything, not just having been in a domestic violence relationship, and having killed him in trial, in prison, and lost a family and all that entails. Just the pain of day in and day out in prison- um, relationships, friendships- I got tired of being hurt, feeling hurt. And I said, you know what, I'm- I'm done. I'm done feeling hurt and wounded. And I, I kind of remembered that I am my father's daughter, you know? How the fuck am I sitting here crying? I need to be fighting. I need to show them my fangs and my claws and, and fight. And I started fighting mentally, and advocating for myself. And, and, um, trying to get out of prison, that- that's what you do when you're in prison, is you try to get out of prison. And I got hooked up with organizations that were, um, backing the survivor and, you know, incarcerated survivors.

On Disenfranchised Grief

 My friends and family are very supportive- it's a very small circle, so I don't have a lot of expectation of a lot of people. I could probably count on one hand, the amount of people I talk to, other than work, the amount of people I talk to in my personal life in a three month span, my circle's very small. On purpose.

I get out on bail in June. This was 1991, and um, my mom and I- I'm a Taurus, she's a Leo, we're so at odds, like, we're both strong earth signs- we're just so at odds. And, um, we never clicked, but we have so much love for each other. And we were in an argument, just, you know, it was very common. Um, and she said, 'What did he ever do to you to make you kill him?' And at that moment, I just felt so betrayed by her, you know? And then, when I got arrested and she told the police, um, 'I always knew one was going to kill the other, I just thought I was going to go downtown and identify my daughter's body.' she didn't think it was going to go this way.

Other than my mom, and my two sisters, and my one cousin, um, no one contacted me in 17 years. Family has let me down. I can't say in little ways, I can say in big profound moments. My mother didn't come to my sentencing. Um, she couldn't take coming to court. She asked me to move out when I was home on bail because of the, the publicity. Um, I understand she comes from a different era, and I tried to overstand why she couldn't deal with it, even though it- it hurt very, very deeply, you know? Especially when she had my dog put down, like, just things like- like that. But, my community- my community was very supportive. I had the battered women's defense committee, because back then you were a battered woman, you know, um, and ABW was ABW, right? Not Willow. And, um, so my community was, was very supportive when I was out on bail, even when I was inside, they came to visit me, you know, brought me some change for commissary.

But the criminal justice system is totally different. You know, I mean, I'm not making excuses for anyone, there's just no manual to tell you how to deal with things like this in life. There's no manual. So I see, that the people around me were doing the best they could. Or, they did nothing, and avoidance is also the best they could do.

I mean, did my mother come visit me for 17 years? Yes, she did. Did she insist? God bless her- did she insist on picking me up from prison? Yes, she did. She wanted to pick me up and take me to McDonald's for breakfast. And for 17 years, that's what she said she wanted to do. And even though my wife wanted to pick me up in a limousine and my friend, you know, like, and she wanted to do this big thing. I'm gonna pick you up in a limo. I'm gonna pick you up. And we go and go straight to the hotel and, you know, all this, you know, sexy stuff. And, you know- we hadn't been together in a long time, and she was mad. She was like, 'What do you mean your mom's picking you up?' I'm like, 'I've been promising her, since day one- that meant something to her, and I gave that to her.

So, you know, everybody else, No- Margie, my friends, all that, Nope, No, No, my mom's picking me up. And they're looking at me like, 'But didn't she let you down?' Like, they know, because I had to live with my friend Marge when my mom put me out when I was home on bail. And it didn't matter. I don't care. That's what she wanted. The small thing.

You know, she was perfect. I don't even wish she wasn't even less old fashioned. I'm so glad that she was born in 1943, and I'm so glad that she was exactly the way she was, even though a lot of what she did hurt me very deeply. A lot of what I did hurt her very deeply, too. So I think I can forgive her for that.

Grief

So before I was with Darnell, I was in an abusive marriage. And it became abusive at the end because I was out of control, our marriage was basically over and I was doing what I wanted to do and Eddie wanted to control me. So, he jumped on me a couple times. And the one time he left me laying on the living room floor, um, I said, you know, 'This marriage is over.' And he said, 'I know.' He said, 'I'm leaving.' And he packed his shit and he left. And then I jumped right into the fire with Darnell. But, um...

So, I know what it's like to be able to get out of an abusive relationship- so I thought- and then I got involved with Darnell, and the way that ended was, I ended up killing him. And, it's not the same. Like, when a friendship or relationship ends you grieve that, right? Of course, I grieved my husband, but he was my husband- that was- to me, that was a little different. We were ending a marriage. It was like, big right? It wasn't just like boyfriend girlfriend thing, and with Darnell, when he died I couldn't grieve him. I was being prosecuted for his death. I couldn't grieve him. And then sitting in- I went from killing him, to jail, to prison. I mean- I would- so, for that six months that I was home on bail, that was very hard. Because, his clothes were still hung up in my closet. His sweater still smelled like him. Um, that was very, very hard. And I wasn't able to grieve his death. Even though I caused it, it was like, the nerve of me to want to grieve something I caused. But, even if you're in a bad relationship, and you end that relationship, you still grieve that loss, even though you're the one that said goodbye, first. So I was never able to grieve it, so, to grieve his loss. And then, I realized that I didn't love him. I feared him. I did love him, but that love had turned to fear.

And through 17 years in prison, I did- um, I got a bachelor's degree in psychology. I read thousands of books looking for answers, looking for why- how could he hurt me so badly with the same hands he loved me with? How- Why? How? Why would he try to kill me? Like, Eddie just beat me up. Darnell tried to kill me. And so I just went searching. And I believe that was my grief looking for answers. And so, I mean, what I got out of it was a college degree, and you know, and, and a lot of life experience and, um, a lot of insight, but I never got my answers.

So I don't think that grief is something that you ever get over. I think, you find a place inside yourself for that pain and it stays there, but you have to find that place inside yourself where it's safe and then you're able to move on. It's almost like making peace with that pain and knowing that it's always going to be there, but you have no choice, you have to live.

On Support

 Well, there's two sides of that. There's the side of it's so accepted in our society that, um, people think that you're making a bigger deal of it. People are so desensitized to it that you- th- they think you're making a bigger deal than it is. Oh, he just pushed you. Oh, he just smacked you. Come on. That was nothing. You're fine. Look at you. There's not even a mark, you know? And so they're desensitized to it or they get tired.

They get tired of your same old story. Darnell beat you up again. You're limping because he stomped on your leg. He threw you down the stairs. He raped you. He smacked you. You got another black eye. You have too much makeup on because he bruised your face again. You know, like, I thought people couldn't see it. I thought I was doing a good job of covering it up, but I wasn't. And, um, so it goes either way. So I wish that people had had more endurance for me, because I was so broken.

And if you said you cared about me, then I felt like you were supposed to care about me. Like one night, he beat me up at one of my friend's houses and she called the police. He left. She called the police before the police got there. I left, I hauled ass. I just didn't want to deal with it. And she was like, 'Fuck you. I'll never do anything for you.' You know? And I'm like, you just don't get it. You know, it's like I'm screaming for help and I don't even know it I was so broken. I didn't even realize it. I was so empty and

The other part- everybody is so desensitized to violence, and 'it's not my business' or they make up those excuses, right? 'It's not my business', because if you acknowledge it, then you have to do something about it- and that could bring risk to yourself. And- and people just don't want to be bothered. You know, so I wish that, to have been supported better. Wish people would have more endurance. I wish people knew more about domestic violence, um, in the right way, and not just being victims of it, or- or, you know- but- but knowing what to do about it. And I wish that it was more taboo in society, you know, like when you say 'domestic violence', it should have the same taboo implications as, uh, a baby killer or a baby rapist. I was in prison with them, so, you know, those are the people you don't wanna talk to. So people don't care as much when you're grown- when you're a grown up. So I want domestic violence to be as taboo as those other words. And, and, um, I think then society as a whole could be more supportive.

On The Healing Journey

I've been home now 15 years, but I was gone 17. So I always said that when I'm home 17 years, then I'll feel like I'm home. I don't feel like I'm home yet. I feel like I'm here, but I don't feel like I'm home yet.

It's time, you know, time has to like, chop off all the fluff, you know, time, just like the ocean erodes away the shore, right? And it just erodes away until you're just down to the bare minerals. And that's what it feels like. And then after time erodes that all away, you have just these solid, bare minerals. And then you're like, okay, now I got to find a place for these because these are hot rocks, they hurt. And you find a place inside you and your soul, and you just tuck it away and you can visit it. And, you can ignore it, and you can put off acknowledging it sometimes, when- when the pain is, it rises. But, um, it's always there. It's always there.

You know, and- and grieving Darnell, I used to remember his birthday, March 13th. I used to remember December 17th, the night I shot him. Like, I used to really go through changes, like crying, heaving, can't sleep, can't eat, can't use the bathroom, can't, like everything would just shut down because of that, that overwhelming pain of just disbelief that, that he would, he would try to kill me. That it would get that far after I gave you all of me, and all you wanted to do was control me and hurt me. You know, that's- that's some shit. You know, it's like your doctor goes in to take out your appendix and rips your heart out instead and says, 'Oops, sorry', you know, well, didn't even say sorry, you know, now what are you left with? Nothing. That's how I felt. I was left with nothing of me. I was empty.

On Reclaiming

When I was first in the county jail, um, we- you know, you're talking with the girls around you and you're like, what do you like? Oh, I like steak. Oh, I like chicken. Like I used to say, 'I love steak'. You know what? I don't. He loves steak. I could eat freaking chicken wings every single day of my life, every single day of my life. Throw some boss sauce on there, girl, stop.

So I was going through these revelations, and- and, it wasn't even on purpose. Like, in talking to other people- 'What kind of movies do you like? Oh, I love scary movies. And a voice in the back of my head would be like, stupid, no you don't. You don't like scary movies. He likes scary movies. You tolerated them, you hid behind your coat. He got mad because you didn't watch half the movie and he paid for it. Every time we went to the movies, he would threaten me that I had to watch the movie.

So realizing who you are, and what you like, and that you are a person, and that your feelings matter, and that you are validated, and that you take in oxygen just like he does. You know, like, that was reclaiming myself, little tiny, tiny pieces at a time. And as far as reclaiming myself, that came in my 40s when I just started feeling more comfortable in my own skin and not giving a fuck what other people thought about me. You don't like the way I look? Bitch, don't look at me. You don't like the way I smell? Get the fuck away from me. You don't like, you know, anything- anything, get- keep it moving. Nothing to see here. Keep going. You know, and I just started shutting people down. And I took on this, this mantra in my head of don't bring no shorts, no shit, no bullshit to me. Don't bring it. I ain't got nothing for you. And I, I kind of just stopped being selfless and realized it was okay to be a little selfish. It's okay. Selfish isn't a bad word.

On Affirmations

Go get 'em, tiger. My wife says that to me every time I'm going out the door to a new job, to an interview, to something, right? Um, to a speaking engagement, if I'm going out of state for two to five to seven days for engagements or, um, she always says to me, I'll be like, 'Bye, bae, you know, I'm going to miss y'all'- her and the fur babies. And she'll say, 'Go get 'em, tiger.' And, you know, I say things like, I always throw myself a wink in the mirror. Before I do an event, I always look in the mirror, take a deep breath, throw myself a little wink and be like, get this shit, go get 'em, tiger. Go fucking get 'em. Go let 'em know how it really fucking is. Because now you have a voice. And I go out there and I rock it.

On Tools

 I drive. I love to drive. I would say, 85 percent of my dreams when I was in prison, was about driving. With music, I don't have trunk room. I have a speaker in my trunk. I have a boom. I'm the one that rattles your windows when I drive down the street if I'm in the mood. And, um, I drive and I listen to music. And I think that's it. I just, it gives me a feeling of freedom.

I love road trips. I'm the designated driver in my family- in our house. I want to feel free. I want to stop and get something to eat, if I want to. I want to stop and pee, if I have to. I want to buy sunglasses at Sunglass Hut on the throughway. I want to, I want to live. And that helps me feel alive. You know, road trips, I'm the one. You know, because I just feel in control and free, just free, free. So open the sunroof, open all the windows, let my hair fly straight up in the air, I don't care, you know, just wind, and I mean, I'll even drive in the rain. I don't care. It's just driving. That is my self care. And- and then, being able to go home. That- that's the big thing, because for so many years, all I wanted to do was go home. I just want to go home.

From Where I Speak

I speak as someone who has lost everything and come back from it. I speak as someone who is empowered by the pain that I've endured.

I speak as someone who gets love from giving love.

I speak as someone who feeds the stray cats in my neighborhood and leaves dog food out too, just in case.

I speak as someone who just wants to bring peace and comfort to those around me.

Words of Care

 One thing I would tell someone who is healing from abuse is, you are worthy of a life free from pain and fear and self doubt.

That's it.

Words of Care for Incarcerated Survivors

Something I would tell a survivor that is incarcerated is that, you are not alone. You are not forgotten. And there are people out here, fighting for you. Whether you can feel it, or believe it. Because that hole is so dark.

Just hold on. Just hang on.

Sharing Their Story

I first started this advocacy thing, um, and lobbying, um, because I wanted to help. I wanted to help others. I didn't want any other woman, and I've said this more times- if I had a nickel for every time I said this, I would be rich, but I don't want any other woman to ever have to go through what I've been through.

From the, the violent relationship, to the- the incident itself, to- I wouldn't wish that moment on my worst enemy. And... and then incarceration, and, and then coming back home and trying to find yourself and your life. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. So I started off on this venture, um, as wanting to change the world for everyone else.

Not realizing, that every time I spoke- every time I gave- it lessened the weight on my shoulders. It got some of that gunk out of me that I had stuffed for so long. Because there is no rehabilitation in prison. It's just a warehouse for people. There's no therapy. There's no- they control the masses with mental medication, Seroquel, Thorazine, Elevil, Valium, you name it.

So, for 17 years, I had a lot of stuff I stuffed and a lot of stuff I had even forgotten about. And then I found through sharing, it started lessening that burning in the pit of my soul and it started lessening the weight on my shoulders. And I even- even though I sleep okay, I slept better. And I felt more at peace with myself. And I even think I started to like myself a little more because I got it out.

And when I share with you, the pain isn't all mine anymore. And, whether you roll your eyes and walk away like, 'Ugh, God, I don't want to hear this', or, you embrace me with support- it doesn't matter. I still got it out. And you can't unhear what I said.

Like, I've talked in rooms of- of very conservative men who looked at me like, 'Ugh, god. She probably liked it. She probably asked for it.' Because he's going to go home and kick the dog and beat the wife, terrorize the kids. Who knows? Right? Drink a bottle of scotch, beat somebody up in the house, and- and you're our lawmakers. So I'm thinking if- if you could just hear my words, somehow, some way they're going to penetrate you. Maybe the next time you hit your wife, you're going to think about me. You can curse me, but you're still going to think about me. And there I'm planting the seed. Maybe when you're old, you'll feel bad about it. I don't know. But I know that every time I talk, I get more of that shit out of me. Because I wasn't supposed to have it all in the first place.

And sharing it is just that- many hands make a heavy load light. And that's how it feels. So, I started off doing it for everybody else. Through the middle, a lot of it was my own healing journey, doing it for myself and for empowerment and validation and all those words. And now, I'm comfortable in my- so comfortable in my skin and in my presence that I can do it for other people again knowingly.

Am I healed? Hell no. But, um, it's worth it. At the end of the day, when I get home and I take off my boots that hurt my feet and [laughs] you know, and you unbutton those jeans and- and you're just like, yes! It's worth it, to know that I may have helped somebody tonight. I may have related with someone. I may have let somebody know they're not alone. Because the people who talk, that's great. But the people who don't talk, that's scary.

It takes more courage to say it than to write it. It takes so much more. And I just wish this courage for everyone because it's- it's enlightening. It- it lifts your soul. You know, even though I'm a little mentally and emotionally tired after talking about all this, I feel relaxed. It's like after a good cry, the endorphins kick in and you know, like, fuck that shit. I got this.