Swearing...for good. #whiteribbonnight #domesticviolencenomore

We have all met one of these special ladies in our lives before. They adorn a bubbly, outgoing, peaceful persona with a certain ease or grace about them. They help others unconditionally; they are the women everyone in a room labels as strong; and you would be right. But behind the peaceful, friendly, helpful outlook these women, young girls, adults, middle aged women, grandmothers, are women who have suffered and dealt with the effects of domestic violence at the hands of men.

Despite all of their efforts there is one thing these women will all share in common, at one point in time they were deathly afraid, disgusted, physically sick and mentally taunted by men. The beauty, if anything can come from it, is that these women, the surviving victims of domestic violence, are reminders of the utter strength, determination and bravery of women.

Each week, each year we hear of another case of a man assaulting his wife or de facto, a family member getting his way with a young relative or a random person on the street deciding a woman is no more than a piece of meat he can have his way with. This has to stop. NOW. The only way that happens is if society, beginning with men, demand better attitudes and respect for women from their fellow man. This means bringing back the days when men would respectfully and singularly approach a bloke if he was misbehaving in a bar or speaking inappropriately to a woman. This means no more standing by and waiting to see if 'she'll be right.' It also means verbalising your commitment and reinforcing everyday that you swear to develop and uphold a society that values the lives of your women. It's about exclaiming that 9 years of jail for committing rape is a blasphemous joke when you're talking about the entire life of one of God's children being destroyed at the hands of a monster. It is never exalting people, including the famous, if they have been convicted of heinous crimes against women.

This evening, July 25 is White Ribbon Night. Tonight I want to say well done to any woman who has ever suffered and survived at the hands of domestic violence. You are the definition of a fighter. I also want to say, I am sorry to anyone reading this who has lost relatives or loved ones to this insidious crime and I am sorry for those who have experienced unspeakable pain in order to learn their inner strength. Whilst I would love to keep my focus only on this (all the time) sadly we still must emphasise how much culture in Australia, and the world, needs to change. If you detest domestic violence and value the lives of women please go to White Ribbon Australia now and pledge your support for a society free of domestic violence.

 

A welcomed distraction

This morning I took my iPad out with the intention of writing the typical blog post about how my life feels like its playing 'na na' games with a couple of simple things I wanted to be happening. Instead in 15 minutes I created a short story that goes like this...enjoy the journey...

A WELCOMED DISTRACTION

I walked into my local coffee shop nonchalantly plonked myself down at a seat facing the windows, I could see the trees blowing swiftly through the dull white back drop. The morning had been a flurry of abuse to a seemingly absent God who had so far denied me the desire of the man of my dreams by my side. As I had been going about my random chores there was no doubting the neighbors would have thought I was somewhat 'interesting' as I hurled abuse at the men who had entered my life and left it for the sake of achieving animalistic rights...though I was accompanied by no one.

As I look to my 10 o'clock, thick framed glasses, perfectly ironed blue stripped shirt, pensive look and owner of two masculine yet pleasant hands destroyed my earlier argument; that I would be giving up the idea of a man to share memories with. In a bid to refocus myself I start thinking about the Disney princesses and the hardcore task of card writing, yet I'm still distracted. My eye turns, I'm like a 13 year old girl who just discovered One Direction.

How is it that when I had somewhat convincingly agreed that a life of travel and exploration would satisfy my desire to be complete, a good looking man had to present himself? So inconvenient. In a town that plated up 40 men to 1 single female you'd think you'd have it easy right? Think again. It had seemed that over time I'd acquainted myself with men worthy of a 'indecent exposure' bumper sticker; any exposure for a long period of time was more likely to come at the expense of a public wee-fest post pub session than a second date.

I had always described to my friends the importance of being the fine dining option instead of fast food when it came to relationships, but the dating scene left me with huge statistics of most men being fast food lovers. Hence, I return to this mornings rant and how I was luckily plated up with the potential for business style fine dining. It appeared this moment of which the said man remained in serious, intellectual business conversation with a colleague, was enough to inspire perhaps another effort towards the desires from which I thought the big man upstairs had alluded to entertain me with.

An hour past, I did the regular errands and looked around at a few extra shops as if to feel like I had the money or occasion for the items I laid my eyes on. After realizing the prospect of events in the near future as opposed to things I became highly motivated to depart the shopping complex for fear of purchasing the unexpected.

As I left the store I in fact became acquainted with the unexpected again, said business man with black frames, appeared before me. It happened twice. I must have been a little bamboozled and trying to over think (as most women do) the intention for this dual sighting but I was stunted by thoughts telling me to calm the heck down as shopping centers and stores were able to be accessed frequently and in no apparent order by whomever they wish. Realizing my overreaction I headed for the ladies toilet to powder my nose and calm down some more, when I was given another unexpected surprise.

A very decent, handsome looking man also dressed in business attire. He had a cracker of a smile and was clothe grooming his black jacket. It seemed whatever was happening the God I once cursed earlier in the day was perhaps getting down to business.

Who knows what's next?


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*Please note all words are copyright of Julia Trask. Thanks for respecting the spontaneity of the nature of writing.