written by an Anonymous Guest
Seeing the Truth
Little by little, day by day, as she continued her irrational behavior, my mother's abuse began to finally wear down on the affection, trust and admiration I had for her. One day we had an altercation in which she crossed the line, saying something I never thought I would hear my mother say about me. It pushed me to seek counseling and severely marred the love I had for my mother. Through counseling I was better able to handle the situation at home, but it was still very challenging. Then one day my mother crossed the line once again. After an internet search, I determined that she had a serious mental illness. Although I am not a psychiatrist and cannot officially diagnose her, a mental illness is the only way to make sense of my mother's non-sensical behavior. Although I recently made this realization, I can see in hindsight that it was prevalent throughout my life.
It was upon this realization that I picked up a book on child abuse titled, Toxic Parents by Susan Forward, PhD. Dr. Forward, who has written books on other forms of abuse, chose the word toxic purposely to make a point about the effects of abuse. In these pages, where she discussed her clients and their journey towards healing, I read my life. Here, in black and white, were accounts of other people who had similar experiences and feelings that I had. In this book was, almost word for word, things my parents had said to me, how my siblings and responded (differently) to the abuse and my own thoughts and behaviors. I was finally validated and I confirmed, for myself, that I was not crazy, that what my parents did was not only wrong but happened to many other children.
Unfortunately, this was a secular book. There are no books, websites, lecture series or even pamphlets about child abuse or mental illness in the Muslim world that I know of. Even if there are, they are not popular enough that I could find them easily. Forums discussing mental illness and child abuse are filled with, produced and moderated by non-Muslims and secular knowledge.
Another helpful book was regarding dealing with loved ones with mental illness. In the book and on their website, I found people's account of their own loved ones behaviors that exactly matched my mother's. It confirmed for me that my mother does not think or behave normally and is in fact mentally ill.
As for my father, since I always knew his behavior was abnormal and my mother had always tried to label him with a mental illness; I never made an attempt to understand him. I now see that things were not always what they seemed between him and my mother. Even though he continued hitting me into my adulthood and still has something mean to say, he has simmered down significantly. I've begun to see what seem like hints of a guilty conscience in his face, as if he is finally realizing the consequences of his crimes. He now teeters between giving me the personal space that I ask for and demanding love and admiration I feel he never planted in me. Although it can never excuse his behavior, (and though he still tries) it may be that his mind cannot truly fathom the hurt he inflicted upon me, why I feel the way that I do, or why I cannot love him the way he feels I should.
Suggestions for Solutions
Acceptance
Acceptance is the most painful but most important first step towards resolving the issues within oneself. Denial means believing that nothing is wrong and therefore that nothing must be done. In order to change the status quo, you must first believe there is something wrong with the status quo. We put our parents on such pedestals, expecting the best of them and believing they have our best interest at heart; so much so, that it is hard for us to admit our parents can be abusive. As bad as it feels for me to know that I have mentally ill and abusive parents, who I cannot trust or expect love and acceptance from, it is far worse to keep chasing the carrot on the stick in trying to please them and earn their love and acceptance. I still do my best to respect them and do some things I know will please them, but I don't do it believing it will change their behavior towards me. I know they will never change until they get the help they need and they will never get the help they need until they admit there's a problem.
I accept the qada' and qadr of Allāh; these are my parents and this is my life's challenge. I accept it even though I do not like it (and Allāh does not ask us to like our hardships). I accept that I do not enjoy my family's company nor like my parents (and If you think it is bad for a person to say they do not like their parents, imagine how it is to say it and feel it). Now I must learn how to fully accept who I am and who my parents are and to deal with them as they are. As others who have been through this can attest, it is a grieving process. Having mentally ill parents is like losing a parent who is still alive; they are physically there but mentally they are not who you thought or hoped they were. My heart aches with a lingering grief that is fed by my parents' continued hurtful behaviors.
Forgiving, but not Forgetting
Although this is probably one of the hardest things to do for someone who has been hurt as deeply as a child who was abused by their parents, forgiveness is essential for the relief of one's soul. In Toxic Parents, Susan Forward says that one does not have to forgive one's parents. I believe, as a Muslim, we should forgive those who have wronged us and that we should also know the limits of our relationship with them. We can forgive someone who robs us, for instance, but that does not mean we invite them into our house. Likewise, abused children should learn to forgive their aggressors, but know that their dealings with them cannot be like that of “normal” families. There must be boundaries, limits and some distance to protect oneself from harm and to prevent enabling of negative behavior.
I believe forgiveness is a journey, not a destination, that takes a lot of healing and personal work. I still bear some anger, resentment, and dislike for my parents and their actions, especially since they still continue their abuse, but it is significantly less than when I started my journey. Knowing that they were abused themselves and that they are suffering from mental illnesses (according to me) does not make it easier for me. In fact, I feel sadder because I know that they, too, are in pain and that if they were to seek professional help and work through the pain, they would begin to heal and get better themselves. I feel sad to think of them dying in such a state, never knowing or feeling connected with each other or their children. I feel sad to think that, if they die before me, that I will never know what it is like to truly love and be loved by a parent. This helps in my path towards forgiveness for me, but I cannot forget. They continue to be harsh and cruel and I have to place a barrier between us.
Recognition, Awareness, and Acknowledgment
Parents can and do abuse their power of authority and misuse/misinterpret verses of the Qurʾān to take advantage of their children. When nothing is mentioned about child abuse, rights of children or obligations of parents, the problem continues. From childhood to adulthood, I believed there was nothing I could do to stop my parents' behavior or to save myself from the attacks. I was told that parents can say or do anything they want and there's nothing the child can do about it (because even saying “uff” was a sin). With my parents having such rights over me, I felt I had no one to talk to and that if I tried, I would be told to be patient, to not speak ill of my parents and to try harder to please my parents. Furthermore, since my parents were known as good people in the community, who would believe me? It would be my word against my parents and, for sure, my parents would call me a liar and say how I twist the truth to make myself look like the victim (exact words my mother has said).
Many people do not recognize their parents behavior as abusive and some parents, who may have been abused themselves, do not recognize their own behavior as abusive. I have heard other people tell me that their parents call them stupid, fat, lazy, ugly, worthless, good-for-nothing and I knew that there were other families like mine in our community. I knew because my mother would tell me about them. In fact, she would compare their situation to ours and tell me “at least your father isn't as bad as so-and-so”. Nothing was ever said or done because it was a cultural norm (although my mother did admit it was wrong of my father to hit us).
When abused children grow up and have children of their own, if they believed their parents had their best interest in mind and raised them up properly, they will repeat the same mistakes their parents did. One prime example of this is Amy Chua, author of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, a memoir of her parenting techniques. She received lots of criticism when an excerpt of her book was published detailing how she pushed her children hard to be the best, accepting nothing less. Just as her parents had raised her, nothing less than an A was acceptable and she expected them to learn and master a musical instrument. In fact, she prevented her daughter from eating, drinking, sleeping or using the restroom until she perfected a musical piece. Chua called her daughter garbage, lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent and pathetic. so that she would push herself harder and never give up. She felt she was exercising good parenting that would give her children the best chances of being successful. Even if they are “successful” (by her or societal standards), the psychological damage she did to her children will most likely create emotional and mental problems.
Like Chua, many Muslims, especially immigrants, believe they are doing what is best for their child, just as their parents did to them. Chua explained that her parents, like many immigrant parents, adapted this way of parenting from their countries of origin and that it was “western” styles of parenting that were creating unsuccessful, careless adults who failed to achieve their full potential. The behavior, however acceptable in other cultures, is nothing less than abuse.
Imams and Shuyūkh need to speak about it and open their doors and hearts to those suffering in silence. We also need to have problem solving and life skill workshops for people, like me, in these situations to know how to deal with it. Telling someone to just be patient, to just forgive or to ignore it is very caustic. It is like leaving an open wound untreated and exposed to the germ-filled air – it will not heal and will only get worse. The abuse tears at a person's self-esteem and self-worth, just as water dripping on a rock slowly erodes it. Child abuse is a legacy, usually passed down from generation to generation; those who abuse their children were more likely than not abused themselves as kids. If we do not resolve to cure this disease, we allow it to let it spread and infect the ummah, killing us from within.
Even if you cannot empathize what it feels like to have abusive parents or how someone cannot like their parents, acknowledge and validate that this is true for the person going experiencing it. Understand that not all parents are as loving and caring as they should be and that it is not possible for everyone to please their parents or avoid disobeying them. No one wants to or likes to displease their parents. We seek our parents' approval in life; they are our mirrors. It is heart-wrenching to look into either parent's eyes and see disappointment. But when there is dysfunction in the brain's processes, when there is mental illness, is very challenging to please that person. They have a set standard that is difficult, if not impossible, to reach and will only lead to denial and sacrifice of one's self to achieve.
Know that when so much emphasis is put on rights of the parents, treating them with respect and not disobeying them and none on the obligations of parents and right of their children, that it creates an advantage for abusive parents and a detriment to the abused child. Just as I did growing up, they may feel lower than dirt because their parents are displeased with them simply for being different and expressing their individuality . Although I know my parents' labeling me a disobedient child is based on irrational and unattainable standards, I still feel guilt and fear when I hear that disobedience to parents is a major sin.
Counseling, Support Groups, and Books
I believe everyone can benefit from psychological counseling, regardless of whether they have been abused or live with mental illness (in one way or another). A Muslim counselor is ideal, but not always possible and, depending on the therapist, may not even be helpful. Some counselors have received sensitivity training to deal with first generation americans and/or Muslim clients.
Support groups in your area or online may also be helpful; it helped me feel less alone when I knew someone understood the pain of what I was going through. Some states have support groups for adult children of child abuse and other support groups offer help for loved ones of those suffering from mental illness. Although it was formed for people with alcoholic family members, Al-Anon has been suggested for those dealing with abuse, dysfunctional families and/or someone with a mental illness
There are many self-help books that can help a person set healthy boundaries, deal with their emotions and heal the pain. There are none for or by Muslims that I know of and this is an area which we need to become active in.
Closing Remarks
Even though I received validation from books and my counselors, I still feel isolated and unsupported by the Muslim community. I still sense that my story will be seen as another child trying to complain about or blacken their parents who are only doing what's best for their child(ren). I still believe that there are very few, if any, imams or scholars who will stand beside me and give me validation and guidance to do what is right and best for me and my health. It took us many years to finally acknowledge spousal abuse amidst our Ummah and yet we still struggle to support our sisters going through it. How long then will it take us to finally admit to the problem of child abuse in Muslim families? And while women's shelters and domestic violence programs/workshops are being developed to help women abused by their husbands to escape, what can Muslim children who are abused by their parents do? While staying with abusive parents is detrimental to their health, abused children cannot divorce their parents nor, if they are minors or financially dependent, can they leave their homes.
Alḥamdulillāh, I am one of the fortunate ones who has sought and found help through counseling. I recognize the problems within my family and myself and aspire to help others in similar situations to recognize that they are not at fault, that they can and should respect themselves by not subjecting themselves to the verbal and emotional abuse. We, as an ummah, need to begin discussing the effects of domestic violence on children; if a spouse is being abused, the children in the family may be abused as well. If the abused spouse refuses to seek help or admit that there is abuse, the children will continue to be in harm's way.
Māshā'Allāh, according to my counselor, I have made great shifts in my way of being within myself and with my family. My work with my counselor and with myself (through books and practices) are based on the goals of healing, forgiving and moving on, to undo damage that was (and is) caused by living in such a household. There is no way all the damage can be undone, but at least its impact can be lessened. I have learned to set healthy boundaries, learned to respect myself, and learned to remove myself from a harmful situation. I now know that I can respect my parents and respect my own need for safety, that honoring my parents does not mean I have to listen to them berate me, and that walking away is not a sin when it is done respectfully.
I feel a sort of catharsis from releasing what I have hid from even my most trusted and closest friends and sense some healing from using my negative experience to invoke positive change. In telling my story, I hope to raise awareness, fuel discussion and inspire others to start talking about a topic that has deeply affected my livelihood and the lives of thousands of Muslims. Although I submit this anonymously, by finally speaking out and being heard, I choose to have a voice for myself and for those who feel they cannot speak. I choose to remain anonymous to protect myself from unwanted attention and unneeded pity or sympathy, and to protect the identities of my family members. Everything written here is true and this is only a glimpse of what I went and still go through. I pray it benefits the ummah to have this brought out into the open. May Allāh protect us all from such hardships and help those of us who've lived through it to heal. Āmīn.
The post Unspoken for: The Unheard Victims of Domestic Violence Part 2 appeared first on MuslimMatters.org.