Birth/Day

He came all the way back to ruin my birthday.


Drove three hours.  Just for the occasion.


Of completing ignoring me.


He had been living up north for four months now in his second home in the country.


But he still kept me in his Felton house with a revolving door of housemates ~ just to not end things completely ~ to keep me financially tied to him ~ as I continued to make those monthly payments for the lawyer and bail money.


He never spoke to me all day.


I kept waiting, and he never spoke.


I made plans to see a movie with a young friend from UCSC.


But I turned down offers to see my family at night ~ thinking he would come around ~ take me out to dinner ~ speak to me.


The housemate bought chocolate frosted brownies and decorated them with those pink candied letters and flowers just like we use to have on our cakes as kids.  She called us into the kitchen to sing "Happy Birthday" to me.  And he just stood there in silence.


I called the hotline that day and cried.


And I later I checked my "secret voicemail" ~ the one I have to this day ~ and listened to all the domestic violence advocates leaving me loving messages of support and hope.


The Directer, Dee, said in only a way that a woman old enough to be your mother could say, "Honey, you're 40 now.  Pretty soon, you will be done taking this shit from him."


I went to "my room" ~ the room that Lil' Red slept in overlooking the trees that dotted the alley behind us ~ and where I retreated to after times of abuse ~ took out the tape recorder ~ looked at the clock ~ 10:17 p.m. ~ and sang "Happy Birthday to Me" as this was the exact minute I was born.  I kissed my mother's picture and held my head high ~ as I then began to take a series of self-portraits to commemorate this birthday ~ the one he could not destroy completely ~ even if he kept trying to destroy me ever other day of the year.


I vowed then that no one would ever be able to ruin my birthday ~ ever again ~ that I would now spend most of my birthdays alone ~ celebrating me ~ and my love for myself.


And even though it took another six months to finally leave permanently, something shifted that day.


I finally realized that he had zero ounce of love for me ~ to completely ignore me on my 40th birthday ~ to eventually just drive off that night and not come back until very late.


I tasted my future that day.  I knew if I could still smile and sing "Happy Birthday to Me" ~ that it did not matter how much he hated me.  I was still here.  I had been born.  My birthday still arrived even though he tried so hard to stomp it out.


I felt a glimmer of hope that day.  That Dee was right.  That being 40 ~ just in itself ~ had made me stronger ~ and that a new life was within my reach.