I Am Who I Am...Or Am I?

I am a Mother, Wife, Daughter, Sister, Aunt, Cousin and Friend.

Why am I defined by these things, and why through my own actions, do I act differently for each title?

I am the woman who gets her son up each morning, plays and feeds him all day and puts him to bed. I am his Mother.

I am the woman who ignores her husband getting out of bed in the morning for work, so she can sleep more, the woman who when he walks back in the door asks "How was your day babe, once your out of your uniform can you get the veges on for tea?", the woman who brushes off all attempts at sex, even though she wants another baby. I am his Wife.

I am the woman who loves her mother dearly, the woman who texts her every two days to make sure she's okay. The woman who would fly to the ends of the earth to be near her mother. I am her Daughter.

I am the woman who will help her siblings as much as possible, but isn't sure if she loves them. The woman who will take her sisters degrading comments, but treats her older brother like a child because he acts that way. I am their Sister.

I am the woman who has one niece she sees semi regularly, and bestows with love. I am the woman with a niece that I will never meet, and a nephew that I rarely hear about. I am their Aunt.

I am the woman who will wear a dress for their cousins' wedding. Solely and only for them. I am the woman who loves this cousin so much, that I cry at the pure love between him and his new wife. I am his Cousin.

I am the woman who will listen to all her friends complaints, the woman that will let their tears roll down her shoulder and never expect anything in return. I am their Friend.

Why is it that I feel that I am not this, I am not who they all think that I am? This mainly pertains to my relationship with my Husband.

While I love him (and I do) I feel I am not myself, or who I used to be. I know that people change, and that this is NOT his fault, not by any way, shape or mean.

But he is the receiver of this change. He doe's not know who I am or who I can be. That has been wrecked for him, by C.

C entered my life when I was 14, he was the crass, strange, oddly sexy Australian who used to come into my work and give me a devastatingly beautiful smile... fast forward a few years and 2 boyfriends to July 2005 where he becomes my boyfriend at the tender age of 17.

I the all knowing and seeing wise one that I was (yeah right) knew that he had been to jail, that he had alcohol and violence convictions. He explained those away for me, and I let it rest.

I learnt that those devastatingly gorgeous smiles, were meant for me, because he had, had a crush on me for the past 3 years, that's why he wrote to me from jail, rung me while on bail and then went straight back to jail, that's why he kept coming back to where we lived was to see me.

Which of course made me feel so special.

We had dated for 2 months before alcohol came into it. That night, he threw me across his bedroom, and then threw me out into the lounge, and broke the back door window. I wasn't allowed to leave. I had to stay with him all night other wise I would "Get the shit beaten out of me."

It was the first night I had been allowed to stay, and I was scared. I spent the whole night against the wall praying that someone would come or that I could leave. But for someone that was as drunk as he was he was a light sleeper. He didn't remember a thing the next morning.

I being the innocent that I was, knew that I couldn't tell my mother, but thought that it was a one off. I ended up moving in with him on boxing day 3 months later.

We went to work together on an orchard, where he proceeded to get drunk a lot, but didn't do anything, in fact he proposed there one drunken night. I of course accepted.

We moved in with my mother, who in turn began to notice (he had a new job) just how often he never came home, or how late he came home, drunk and reeking of marijuana, unapologetic and mean.

But again, never hurt me while living there.

We moved out of there, and into his parents place, all the while he was going to our old place, drinking, getting stoned and never coming home.

One night he decided that he had, had enough, I remember it vividly - he started stabbing the Cola bottle with a knife (while drunk obviously) and started calling me a Whore, Slut, Dog and telling me that he was going to Ibiza without me ( that was our long term plan) then he started in on his mother, slamming her hand repeatedly in the sliding door. I went to the bedroom to get away from it. He punched me. Repeatedly. To this day he can not remember that, and I have not told him.

His brother who was also living there at the time, had not previously believed me about Cs' actions and said that I must have caused them. That night I was vindicated, his brother witnessed the fact that I had said and done nothing to cause this violent outburst.

For the first time ever.. I rung the police.

I rung the police, and they came and took him away, where he assaulted one as well. I remember walking to the end of the driveway to stand next to G. (brother) to make sure that the police were okay. I watched them pepper spray my fiance to the ground to subdue him (he was a large man.) and I remember his brother pulling me into a hug and saying I'm Sorry, I had no idea.

I will always remember that apology, as it is the only one that has had the most meaning in my short lifetime.

I went to the police station the next day, and watched this sad little boy, with his shoes taken off him in case he hung himself and handed him a letter, stating that I could not go on with this relationship if he was to continue acting this way.

He cried, I wrote a letter to the judge recusing his behaviour, and he got let off with a fine and community service.

Which lead to all the other smatterings of violence, alcohol and drug abuse his community service sparked in him to go to school and learn a trade that he is still doing now, but it lead to him also meeting the drop-kicks of society.

And it is also where I lost my dignity. He strangled and choked me in front of these people. And they laughed.

He punched me over and over that night as well.

I left him not long after that night, after 18 months I had had enough.

Now know, that is only some of the abuse that he has put me through, there is physical, mental, verbal and sexual abuse that is just not what I am ready to talk about yet.

He has changed and ruined me now, I am no longer the outgoing, friendly, enthusiastic person I once was.

I am now the paranoid, panic attack ridden, shy, unconfident, body image issued person that he has caused me to be.

My husband, has received a damaged wife, and he does not know it, for while he is attentive, he's not that attentive.

My Husband and Son, could have received a bubbly, enthusiastic, confident wife and mother, instead they receive this broken shell.

This shell that hates who she is, hates what she has become, and does not know where to start to fix things. Especially those that can't be fixed.

That's 3 years ago now, 3 years that have haunted me over and over.

But 3 years ago I met this man, and I became pregnant to him, and became his wife.

I love this man, but he deserves who I used to be.

I love my son, but he deserves who I used to be.

I deserve who I used to be.