Lorene

Lorene was my other main advocate who I developed a very close relationship during my work to get free.

While Karen's focus was to help me with my safety plan and long term escape plan, Lorene served more as a therapist in which to sort out the pain I experienced each day.

Our visits were different.  We would talk about the feelings of the moment and process the craziness of my life.  Lorene got to me start journaling which I had long stopped in high school.

One day, she presented me with a pretty journal with a red, flower-patterned fabric cover.  During our hour together, she would have me devote at least 20 minutes of free writing.  Because this journaling was usually done at the end of the session, I would not talk about what I had wrote.  Sometimes, it simply was a relection of what we had just discussed.  Other times, it was a series of untold events that had yet to be revealed to her.

So kind was Lorene that she even bought me seven stocking-stuffer type Christmas presents one year.  She treated me like a regular human being ~ which I was ~ but did not feel like at the time.  I felt abnormal, carrying around this big secret to most of my friends and family and even colleagues at work.

 Being hit in the head is an easy way to keep the evidence hidden from the outside world.

I grew to depend on Lorene.  She was amazingly beautiful with long black hair and olive skin ~ so young and petite ~ and yet so mature for someone of all of her 24 years.

We kept writing and writing in silence at the end of each session.  I never knew what she wrote about ~ maybe she wrote about her own life ~ or maybe she wrote about her concerns for me and all the other participants at the Walnut Ave Women's Center.

Like Karen, the day had come for Lorene to move on in her life.  I received a message on my secret voicemail that she was going to have a baby and would not be coming back to the center after she left a couple of months before the baby's birth.  So my time was now limited with Lorene.  I watched her belly grow for awhile knowing she would no longer be in my life fairly soon.  I made the most of the remaining time I had with her and kept on journaling right up until the end.

On our last day together, I skimmed over what I had written in the past couple of years.  And I was shocked at what I had blocked out.  I finally shared something I had not told Lorene in person.  The chilling reality of how my abuse had escalated beyond my abuser one time.

His son was now taller than me and nearly of age to drive.  And what I wrote nearly sank me to my knees right in front of Lorene:

We got out of the car, and his son started pounding his fist into my back.  And all his dad said was, "Go get your own girlfriend to abuse."

I still think about Lorene all these years later and imagine her baby growing up into a beautiful young child. What I will remember most about this dear lady is her many kindnesses, boundless compassion, and her ability to teach me ~ through journaling ~ that I need to remember, so I will not forget.