10 Things Not To Say To Someone Leaving An Abusive Relationship

One thing harder than being in an abusive relationship is leaving. I, and a lot of other people have been there. I say people as LGBTQ people are often victims of domestic abuse and refuse to report it because of the bigotry of law enforcement, as are a lot of males. Leaving is a hurdle because it forces you to break to codependent cycle, as codependency is the addiction that kills the most people whether it is enabling the drug use or other addictive behavior of a loved one, or staying in an unhealthy relationship where your safety is at risk.

In the process of leaving a situation of codependency and abuse, here was some of the unhelpful feedback I got from well meaning people. They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions and these folks paved a highway. So I hope this helps someone out there who's either in the process of leaving an abusive partner, or someone who's trying to be of support so they are more successful in doing so.

“How Did You Let This Happen?” Well sometimes we don’t know what we sign up for until we fall into things. I take Nicole didn’t know OJ was a domestic abuser and murderer on their first date. Just like I didn’t know my charming former fiancé would attempt suicide in front of me the first time I tried to leave. Bottom line, you don’t know someone until you know them. And by the time, it might be too late. 

   “You’re Awfully Bitter and Angry.” I have been through a lot and my feelings are still fresh. But the words I prefer are honest and real. And now that we are being honest and real, if you are going to continue to give me this feedback I don’t need you or want you in my life.

 “ It Makes People Uncomfortable When You Talk About It.” Yes, this was a legit letter I got on facebook from a (straight) man of course. I will continue to talk about it and I hope it makes people uncomfortable. Because in discomfort we can have a dialogue for change in culture, and change in the legal system to help people like myself. And in this same dialogue, we can also let people (because a lot of LGBTQ people are DV folks as well) know that they are not alone.  

   “You Need To Get Over Him.” That is so cute. Thank you for your feedback. I want to move on, but kind of tough when he won’t leave my property. Kind of tough when he calls and hangs up and I have to log them. Kind of tough when he threatens the people I am trying to date. But yeah, this is all because I am so hung up on the love he gave me. (Asshole).

“What Did You Do To Him?” To answer your question I tied him to the bed, blew him for hours, and then he fucked me in the ass. Since then, the sex with me has been like napalm in the morning. But this was after I killed this dog and nailed it to the tree and then cast a love spell because I am such an awful witch.  No, I did nothing you stupid fucking waste of flesh. You are victim blaming and that is unacceptable. People like you are the curse of DV people everywhere and it has kept us from getting the help we need. Now kindly step into traffic……

  “There Are People Have It Worse Than You.” Currently I am being stalked and harassed by my former lover. Until now I didn’t understand what it was to be hunted like wild game but now I do. The legal system doesn’t protect me as I am constantly reminded of his rights. My ex chased me through the bus station and harasses and threatens my friends to find out my whereabouts. I need a PO Box and unlisted address because if he shows up I am terrified he will kill me, and his sister told me she would so my fears are based in reality. But thank you for reminding me of the starving children in Africa and people with cancer. Their lives suck, I get it, but I am entitled to my rage and pain. The cancer peeps and kids in Africa called. They hate you too.

 “I Wish A Guy Would Obsess Like This Over Me.” Now this is when I ask does it hurt to be as stupid as you are?

 “What You Need Is Another Boyfriend.” You’re well intended, I get it. But I want to take my time and don’t want to end up with someone who’s worse. Let me deal with my trauma and abuse on my own timeline. There is no set schedule to heal. And also, maybe my ex is scaring my suitors away by threatening them. Maybe I need some time to myself to get help and to heal. I will get another boyfriend, but just not when you snap your fingers because me being a DV person makes you uncomfortable.

 “Just Get A Restraining Order.” It’s not that easy. They just don’t sell them at K-Mart. There are proceedings, court hearings, lawyers, and I even need to stalk him to some extent to get his address or to find out where he’s staying. And I am constantly reminded he has rights too. (It’s how it works). And even with an Order, he can send friends and family members to harass me, and he can disobey it. An order does not fix everything. And maybe it’s an avenue I am exploring already and hitting a dead end. But yeah, thanks.

   “You Have To Be Compassionate. He’s Sick.” Yes, I am aware of his mental illness. I am well aware of his history of drug abuse and psychotic episodes. Have you ever considered that my compassion turned into enabling and that I put myself into risky situations because I mistook codependency for love? While I believe he needs compassion and professional help, I also need to take the appropriate actions to keep myself sane but most importantly, safe.  

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That Woman

Recently an old wound was reopened. They say when someone does this, it isn’t always intentional. Rather, that person is a messenger telling you to work on a part of yourself that is not yet healed. When the bandage is ripped off, the wound is reopened. The pain returns almost as if it were yesterday, oozing out of your every pour. Then you realize maybe you were not okay after all.

Monday night I had a giant reminder of my past. Yes, I am a domestic violence and stalking survivor. I have spoken openly in interviews and written about it. Heck, I even talk about it onstage in my comedy. Performance gave me an outlet to live through one of the darkest, most horrific times of my life. I maintain if it weren’t for comedy I would be dead. If my ex didn’t kill me, the pain that went with the situation would have. It’s amazing how the ability to laugh keeps people from losing their damn minds sometimes. Laughter isn’t just the best medicine sometimes, it’s the freaking miracle cure.

I had a friend read me the riot act. Mike’s like a brother. It’s not that he did it to be mean. I needed my ass handed to me. Since the relationship that left me invested in a separate mailing address, I have been very slow to trust men. I had a guy several years ago and it ended badly. Very badly. He still hates me, and I have earned his hate. His wife also has my face on a dartboard. I am not being dramatic, she does. I was a terrible partner. I know that much, and I admit it not to puff myself up but because I was. It’s the damn truth. Yeah this guy had his issues but when you’re the one with your former lover stalking you, there is no room to judge. Just saying.

I never set out to be “that woman”, but I was. Then again, no girl ever dreams of growing up and having Prince Charming turn completely psychotic when the relationship ends. No girl plays Barbies and sees Ken trying to kill himself when Barbie has had enough. It’s not the way it’s supposed to go. Cinderella and Barbie don’t have the real life ending where the dolls are damaged goods. If only Disney and Mattel lived in reality.

“It’s me or the puppets.” My ex said. I still remember the conversation like it was yesterday. He was already controlling my wardrobe and telling me who I could and couldn’t speak to. I thought he was kidding. My children were my blood, my life. I wanted to leave, but remembered when I had done so he broke a Vodka bottle, tried to dive on it, and missed. Then he took the remaining pieces of the broken glass and slit his wrists. I was terrified so I stayed.

For months I was dying inside. My friends saw the lifeblood drain out of me and begged me to get rid of him. Yet I continued to sell him like a used car. A shell of my former self, I turned into a zombie who either simply went through the motions, or when I could feel I was angry all the time. Then it was him or my family. The irony of the whole situation is that he wanted me to put away my puppets so I could become his puppet.

I was drinking alone every night, and that’s already a bad sign. To top it off I had stopped eating and lost a ton of weight. He had hit me before. I had seen female relatives walk this path and I knew how it was going to end. It was always a slow and painful demise where the woman got burned and the man walked away unscathed. More than anything, there was a part of me, my craft, my ventriloquism, my children, missing. I knew if I stayed in the relationship he was going to kill me or I was going to kill myself.

I ended it.

Needless to say it was only the beginning of another nightmare. My ex wouldn’t accept it was over. He called me terrorizing me. Sometimes he would send his friends to terrorize me. He would wander my neighborhood looking for me. Then there were times he would casually tell me he was going to kidnap me because if he couldn’t want me, no one else could have me. In the next breath he mentioned he wanted me dead. If that wasn’t getting to me, he doctored up photos of me online and wrote nasty things on them. Sometimes, he would draw photos of a girl who looked like me and she would be gutted or beheaded. The world has changed, but in those days a restraining order was much harder to get and cyberbullying was still a new crime.

I felt alone, but there were people who came to my aid. The ex was banned from several websites, and my neighbors agreed to watch out for him. Through that I was encouraged by those around me to get onstage and talk about the pain, the fear. More than anything, I was told by those closest to me that I had to reach for my puppets again.

Being a ventriloquist and woman is not easy, especially in the chauvinistic, closed minded comedy community. I heard the sexist jibes and the snide remarks that I was a prop act. However, I also had a lot of people support me as well. I knew in order to get where I needed to go my children had to become my life and they did. At times it seems we fortify ourselves against the world but hey, it’s not the worst thing.

My dream before meeting my ex was to become a professional ventriloquist. With work and effort, that has been happening for me. I have done two good shows this week. One was where I was one of over 200 performers that helped shatter a Guinness World Record. The other was for a bunch of children as part of Little Laughs at The Jalopy Theatre in Brooklyn. On both shows, I shared the stage with amazing performers who were not only dedicated to their craft but also good at it. Although the adventure left me slightly drained because things kept coming like gangbusters, I wouldn’t trade any second of it.

I have my act together onstage and off more than I ever have in my life. This past year, I have begun doing theatres and even filmed a DVD. I also have made a career enough onscreen to earn my union card, something else that felt like writing in the clouds before. Fans will write me letters and sometimes can spot me in public and ask, “Are you that puppet girl?”

Things have changed for the better. And while I was “that woman”, a title I didn’t want, I am actually quite glad it happened. My life was going down a very bad road, and once I got out of the relationship it made me realize I had some decisions to make. I was 21 and could still change course. Maybe low self-worth and desperation had taught me a tough lesson, but I could still get back on track. I did by getting a goal. Also, because of my experience, I have had other people who have been “that woman” reach out to me. It lets them know they aren’t alone, but makes me remember I am not either. Of course, I now have a spider sense and can spot “that man” from a million miles away. I can also pick out a bully from a crowd, and have a special way of not tolerating that toxic individual. And if that bully chooses to intimidate others, I come to their defense as well.

“You’re no funny and will never amount to anything as a ventriloquist.” My ex once told me. Although my life has changed dramatically and I feel so far removed from those people and that time, the words still ring fresh every once in a while when I find myself stepping onstage to a performance where I headline, a theatre gig, or as I ready myself for a TV taping. Except now those words don’t sting, instead they motivate me whenever the doubt starts to creep in. Yes, that voice that speaks like my ex that tells me I have no talent, will go no where, and don’t deserve anything good to happen to me.

“I saw you on TV and you are very funny. Don’t let anyone make you give up your puppet children.” Another voice says. It’s the voice of a fan. They say never to believe your fans all the time, but you need to listen sometimes. While the ex’s hateful words motivate me, my fans are the ones in the race that continue to cheer me on. They let me know I need to keep running, keep fighting, keep my puppet children by my side.

Over time, I have learned to forgive my ex. For as tough as it was, he was a sick person. He had a hellacious childhood that I would not wish on my worst enemy. How could I expect him to give me a healthy relationship when he had no idea what one was in the first place? Plus he never made a secret of who he was. I chose to stay. In the end, I was just as guilty as he was. I wasn’t a victim but a willing volunteer. I heard through the grapevine he is getting help and his life is coming together. In my heart I hope this is true and only wish him the best.

However, when the wound is open it still feels like yesterday I was wearing running shoes in case my ex would show up so I could make a quick escape. It still feels like I just spoke to my mother, and she requested his info so she could have it in case I disappeared. I am always my harshest critic with my career. Things never happen fast enough for me. Perhaps sometimes it’s good the wound is accidentally re-opened to show me that I need to stop being such a brat, and that things could have gone much worse. It’s a stick it note from the universe that I lucked out, and that I am doing better than I think.

It’s also a sign that while in some ways I have evolved, in others I haven’t. I still don’t have a guy. I can blame the career and puppets all day long, but it is because I am scared to death of being “that woman” again. There have been women who are “that woman” many times over and that terrifies me. I am petrified of him taking my puppets. It hasn’t happened but it could.

There are times when I want to jump inside the radio and bust the heads of rappers and male singers sprouting misogyny until the gold teeth jump out of their stupid heads. It doesn’t make me feel bad because they have millions of dollars and can get them replaced. Then I realize it’s the same thing as getting mad at my male comedian friends. Those are just words. Nothing more. Some of the most ruthless dudes onstage have been my biggest supporters and greatest friends off. It’s not a personal affront.

Still, maybe it’s because while I have forgiven my ex, I haven’t forgiven myself. I was 21 and made a mistake. I didn’t know everything, how could I? Yeah, I needed to walk this path to get where I was. Sure, it totally sucked. That being said, maybe it’s time to try to find that handsome prince who likes puppets. He’s out there. Maybe it’s time to close the wound for good. 

My Take on Ray Rice

I have been hearing a lot about Ray Rice lately, and I have been trying to look away. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to weigh in, but all the five minute activists on facebook make it so hard. Yes, I am talking about the mouth breathers who don’t care about relationship violence and probably snicker when they see a couple fighting in a restaurant. They utter the words, “Oh shit, she did not when the girl throws a glass of water in the dudes face.”

Or then some idiot guy who wants to be macho sees a man shaking and slapping a woman. He steps in wanting to be her knight and shining armor. Then he either gets his ass beat or better yet, the woman slaps him herself. Maybe she will even scream, “Stay out of my business!”

Then there is the scenario where her well intentioned friends stage an intervention to get her away, but she goes back. They are wondering what has possessed her to do so. They think she’s nice, he hits her. What is wrong with her? Maybe he sweet talked her again. Bad news, she wanted to be sweet talked.

When these things happen, these disturbing tableaus, one thing becomes apparent. At it’s core, most people do not understand relationship violence. Living ordinary lives with a moderate amount of drama, they like to believe they are far away from it. Or they judge their family member or friend who is in the trap. Then there is the school of thought where some women are made to believe it is all their fault, when in reality both people are in the boxing ring.

Then there is the other more painful and over simplified belief that women are victims and victims alone. Men in this situation are seen as brutes unable to keep their temper in check, and this woman waits on him hand and foot believing he will change. It is nothing like this. Trust me, I know.

Yes, I am a dating violence survivor. It is something I am quite vocal about. The experience is nothing short of hell, and it makes you trust less and look at life, from the mundane to the major in a whole different way. Before you feel too badly for me, and before you want to deck my ex, let me tell you a dirty little secret. I was just as bad as he was.

A dysfunctional, codependent relationship isn’t a friendship let alone partnership. It is two people who are jockeying for control that want to win at all times. Head games are played on both ends, usually more the woman than the man. Insults are hurled on the guys end, usually cruel and below the belt. Then the woman hurls more insults. That is just the beginning. The Miracle Grow is already being poured on everyone’s character flaws, and now they are bigger than ever. That is when the relationship gets physically violent, and all hell breaks loose. Yeah, he hit me, but I hit him back. Then I made the excuse that we were just passionate.

Afterwards,  there is a makeup period that is amazing. Love is pure like Romeo and Juliet, and nothing can tear you apart. He feels bad and promises never to do it again, and yes, I know you always believe him because I did. However, in my heart I also knew it wasn’t true. I now had the upper hand and wanted to keep it. He was also brainstorming so he could keep the upper hand. Sure, I was winning, but he couldn’t let this happen for too long.

Then there were times things would get so heated that yeah, I hit first. Then he hit back. We were a toxic twosome like that. When things reach that point, the relationship itself becomes like a drug. I still remember there was a high that would come from the two of us fighting, and then afterwards the pay off felt like bliss. Later on, I would find out codependency is in fact recognized as an addiction, and this bipolar makeup/breakup pattern had a name.

Like anyone with an addiction, I led a double life. My grades were still good, but as soon as I left school I entered hell. I lied so people wouldn’t know the truth about how bad my life had gotten. Whenever someone would point out this relationship was bad for me, I would either sell my ex like a used car or tell them that they didn’t know what love was. When they would insist I needed to leave him, I cut them out of my life. How dare they?

I started to change too. More often than not, I was angry. As someone who is able to get along with most people, I now found myself in constant conflict. There were times when I just felt drained and I didn’t know why. I started making stupid mistakes, and almost missed registration for classes. Then people would remark I had an acid tongue and many came to avoid me thus isolating me more. The energy created between us was vile and evil, and in return I became vile and evil.

I didn’t want to leave the relationship. Where would I go and what would I do? I knew it would be different, but I didn’t know how I would feel. So I decided to cope by any and all destructive means possible. I stopped eating and lived on diet pills, thus having my weight drop. I drank to excess. Life became hard and everything started to break open. I couldn’t do anything right because this quicksand was pulling me down.

The moment you hit rock bottom is when you get tired of digging. One day, after I felt so drained I passed out in my closet, I decided I was tired of digging. If I stayed, this was going to kill me. Yes, this. The fights were getting more violent, and it became a reality that he might kill me in the course of one because he was much bigger. Or I might accidentally kill myself because of all the stupid things I was doing to deal with him. Maybe, just maybe I might jump into traffic because my despair had become so great. I knew if I didn’t leave, I wasn’t going to. That is when I put on my big girl pants and ended it once and for all.

It was scary, but I was willing to make the plunge. Like anyone trapped in a codependent cycle I was able to get out, but it was hard. My ex didn’t want to let go, and became belligerent when I began seeing other men. For some time, I fed into him. Finally, at the urging of my support network, I blocked him on any and all social media where he continues to be blocked to this day.

Some white knight didn’t rescue me and give me a pukalicious ending. Hell to the no. Instead, I continued to tumble down the rabbit hole a tad longer, making more terrible decisions. It was tough for me to meet decent guys, because I didn’t behave like a decent person. Not to mention the level of chaos I had become used to was a ten, and my willingness to fight anytime and anywhere made most dudes run like they saw Godzilla. It wasn’t because I am a mean and nasty person, but again, you have to be a certain way in order to cope with the relationship. Now that I was back in the moving world, most decent dudes didn’t want to cope with me.

Finally after more bad decisions, I decided it was time to look at my role and my side of the street. It was time to change my behavior, and look at why I kept picking rotten tomatoes. When I did this house cleaning, and a lot of it was from working with a counselor, I became a better woman with more self esteem. These days I wouldn’t dream of repeating history.

Ray Rice was caught in a pattern, and so was his wife. Like my ex and I, they do this all the time. However, now the world knows there business, but on a larger scale, we are also educating ourselves more and more about relationship violence. Ray Rice’s wife shouldn’t have punched him, and he should have walked away. Actually, both should have walked away in separate directions never to speak again, but they can’t and won’t as they are locking horns needing to be in charge.

I am glad the Ravens suspended him. Yes, relationship violence is a serious matter and you just can’t knock someone out in a fight, especially when that person is an easy target. However she should have also behaved better. Again, it is an addictive cycle. My hope for the both of them is that they split up from each other and lead separate lives peacefully. On their own, they probably are okay people. Together, they are a power line in a lightning storm.

I feel grateful and blessed I escaped that part of my life intact. Now things are different, and in a good way. For as dark as some of my days have been, leaving that relationship was still one of the hardest things I have ever done. My hope is that everyone learns a thing or two from Ray Rice, and that everyone becomes more educated about dating violence. That way, when it touches your life you aren’t judgmental. Also, you know that the person will leave when they are ready, and unfortunately, they may never be ready. Sure, it takes two to make a thing go bad, but it only takes on adult to decide this needs to change and to walk away, breaking the cycle.

If you don’t think you can get out, you can. Does it take some work? Yeah. One thing is for sure, if you take the leap it’s frightening, but it does get better. 

Up To Now.....

When I was 21, I was exiting out of a horrific relationship. It was nearly this time eight years ago. I still remember getting the phone call. His voice was frightening, frantic. My ex begged me to take him back. I had left the relationship. Everything was wrong with us as a couple. We were physically violent towards each other, and the arrangement was mutually abusive.

The ex made me give up the one thing I loved most, my puppets. I didn't know what else to do. I was 21, and maybe I was getting too carried away with them. I still did comedy, but lacked that thing that made me myself. Not to mention I stayed hidden from friends and all else during what was supposed to be one of the most vital times in my life. I made my world very small, because I didnt want the people who were close and cared about me to know what was really going on. These days, as I let details eek, it usually upsets them quite a bit knowing that perhaps this could have and should have been stopped.

I remember my ex begging me to take him back. There was a part of me that wanted to go. I didn't know what life on the outside without him would be like. Would anyone ever love me again? Maybe we could work it out this time. I was eating, as opposed to before when I wasn't. We both swore we wouldn't drink together, a deadly combo. We talked. He told me he was sleeping with an ex of his who was working as a hair dresser abusing heroin. I knew this girl, she had tried to worm her way into our lives and get me out of the picture. Yeah, the trash pit. Looking back, her self-worth was worse than mine. She knew he still wanted to be with me, yet she was still sticking around. These days I pity her.

"I couldn't go back to something that ugly." My ex explained.

Weeks later, ironically, she sent me a letter telling me she wanted to shoot me. If only she had known about this conversation. I think the bullet might have gone a different direction.

I told my ex maybe he could move to New York, because his sponging had brought him down to North Carolina. We could work it out, play house and live with his Pops in Brooklyn. That is when he said the words that still stick with me. "If I see you I will kidnap you. That way no one else can have you and I won't ever lose you again."

That is when I knew I could never go back and had to keep going. I did. I made it my business to bust my ass as a comedian, and brought my puppets out of the trunk. As I cleaned my life up, I found opportunities presenting themselves because of my puppetry skills. When I was 23, I performed in a show produced by a former reality television star. I not only did all the puppets, but also did the voices. The following year I connected to a puppetry guild. Then the year after that, I produced a piece, somewhat of a disaster, with all puppets. Oh and then I made some puppet short films as well. And then I was a part of a weekly puppet show for children in Long Island City after that.

From there, I began performing ventriloquism once again in comedy clubs. I mixed it in with my standup. These days I make sure both are solid. Some is to give the audience a different, all around experience. Some of it is also to show I can do a set if a club doesn't book an act like mine. And if the club doesn't book an act like mine, it's their loss.

I also started doing shows for kids, something I had dreamed of doing since I was a teenager. I performed at several puppet festivals, and even several high end corporate functions. It was always a nice feeling knowing I made children happy. It also was cute whenever they either thought my puppets were real, or cracked the code by screaming, "YOU'RE MAKING THEM TALK!!"

This past summer, I was blessed to do a project with the Harvard Film Lab called The Breakup. I did the puppet work for Mortimer. It was an all day shoot where I got wet because it was filmed in the bath tub. This week, I got news our film moved to the second round of Project Greenlight, yes the Ben Affleck and Matt Damon brain child. We went from a pool of a few thousand films to a mere 200. While there is still more to be revealed, we made it past peer review which is a big deal.

I also fulfilled another dream, releasing a DVD. My DVD is now streaming online as of this week. We are working out some kinks, my webmaster and I, but I am grateful to have him on my side. It is called Broke and Semi-Famous. This contains the mixture of standup and ventriloquism I spoke about. These days I also crack jokes about the ex who used me as a punching bag, nearly made me give up the thing I love most, isolated me from my family, and wanted me dead. By laughing I win.

In a week or two, I will release a music video with you guessed it......puppets.

There is a lot of uncertainty in my world at the moment. I don't know what is next. There have been emails about possible opportunities my way. Or they have let me know I am in the running. No yeses yet. Not to mention things might or might not or Dear God lets not go there....

My stomach goes tight. This has been the past several years of my life. My puppet children and myself. My trunk that weighs as much as I do. What if these things don't happen? Maybe I will get old and be a failure.

Then I remember I am not a failure. I escaped hell with a mere brush burn, and kept going. I had a goal that kept me from going back. There are those that are not so lucky. My goals have not only made me a better woman, but they have kept me alive. Had I gone back, I have a feeling I would be dead. I do have a different mailing address so the man can never find me. The rewards I reap from my hard work, dedication, an willingness to show up are simply cherries on top of the proverbial cake. Not to mention I do what I love despite the adversity the world sometimes throws my way. I am not a failure. Rather, I am a champion.

Yeah, puppets have been good to me. I will still continue to be their mother. This fall I turn 30.....eeek. It is bad news for some women in show business. However, I write and work with puppets. It doesn't matter how old I am. I can do those things until the day I die. Add in that ironically, I look a lot better than I do when I was 21. I eat well and regularly. Don't drink. And would never dream of touching a speed based diet supplement. Coffee is my only vice. I exercise regularly, and am ageless. I look better and am wiser, perfect combo.

This dark spot in my life is far behind me, but I keep it close to my heart reminding myself things could have been drastically different. Those days I had real problems. These days I have luxury problems. May Wilson lost her shoe. Sweetie Pie Kincaid needs an upgrade. Snap Dragon, we need to work on that routine.....

Off I go.

Love
April
Check out my DVD Broke and Semi-Famous
www.aprilbrucker.com

Ten Things No One Tells You About Life After Dating Violence

It is the end of the month and I am doing my last piece with Fraternities 4 Family because the campaign is ending. I felt the need to address this issue, of life afterwards because no one ever does. Most people assume once you are away from your other half, everything will be hunky dory. Prince Charming was the whole problem, and life will resume and all the eligible suitors with jobs, careers, and a future will want you. And you will want them. After you get married and live happily ever after with your 2.5 kiddies, you will drive them to softball and make lemonade. Oh and this will all be like a bad dream.

Not so much. When I was there, I was a mess. I found it was far from happily ever after, an if anything it was just the opposite. I was out of hell but just went to a higher layer. Life was real, I was damaged, and there was some healing to be done. Here are ten things no one tells you about what happens afterwards.....For real:

You Will Be Paranoid- Every time you hear keys jangling or someone walks too close to you on the street, it will make you go nutso, especially if your ex had a habit of stalking you. Or worse yet, you might check the house to make sure no one broke in if your ex had a habit of that. Some women have even called the cops thinking someone broke into their house when there was no one there. It’s because you are used to being tortured. So yeah, you’re a little crazy right now. Don’t worry, as time passes this too shall pass. It won’t last.

You Will Feel Terminally Unique- The thing about experiencing relationship violence is you feel alone during the experience, and afterwards you feel alienated from the rest of the world. You have lost your ability to relate, and the relationship problems other people bellyache about are asinine to you. You might want to tell them, “At least he has a job and doesn’t hit you!” Truth: Whether the relationship is violent or not, everyone experiences unhealthy codependency at least once in their dating lives, not just you. The secret is to know everyone has dark times, and to get out there and keep living.

You Will Be Very Angry- Yes, you will have rage issues. This is normal, you have been through a ton of crap. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself getting road rage for no reason or snapping out at service workers because they are moving “too slow.” You have been bullied, and sometimes when someone is bullied excessively they want to take it out on everyone else. Just remember, these drivers and service people did nothing to you. They are doing what they are supposed to do. Snapping out at them will make them feel badly, and won’t make you feel better.

You Will Have a Reckless Phase- Okay, you have been through some hard stuff. It’s okay to want to cut loose. Beware, you will be cutting loose in a way you never dreamed of. As in getting drunk in any day that ends in a “y,” drug experimentation, inappropriate sex activity with strangers, overeating/under eating, or overspending. When you risk losing your job, house, car, etc it is time to put on the breaks. Seek therapy or a Twelve Step Meeting pronto. They will love you until you love yourself, and most women in there dated your ex or his clone.

You Won’t Want Nice Dudes, and They Won’t Want You- In the movies, a nice dude rescues the girl from the abusive lover. Truth: This ain’t gonna happen. When a nice dude hears abusive ex, he gets weary because he thinks you are crazy too. And he’s right, you chose to stay. Also, if your ex is stalking you, he might run because he doesn’t want to get killed. Can you blame him? If he chooses to stay, you won’t trust him because you are not used to trusting. Also, you were with a jerk, so you became a jerk in order to survive. This will get old for everyone involved. So maybe work on yourself so that the nice guys know you are sincerely open for business.

You Will Have Some Friends Consider You Persona Non Grata- Yes, some of your friends won’t stick by you. When things got bad, you cut them out. And then when you came around, you brought drama. That makes people tired. But good news is, they still love you. It killed them inside that you were going through this. Also, hurt is simply masquerading as anger. They miss you, but you messed up. So do what you have to do to repair those friendships aka be a friend again. If they see you are sincere, nine out of ten times they will be back.

You Will Have Friends and Family Try To Fix You Up- Everything thinks what you need right now is a good matchmaker and a nice guy. They couldn’t be more wrong. Every once in a while, this ends happily but most of the time this is a disaster. You might melt down mid-date, which sucks for everyone involved. Or you might dump on your date mistaking him as your therapist, which most dudes can’t deal with. This too shall pass, but you need some alone time so you can work on yourself. Seek real Therapy not a male captive or some sort of counseling so again, history does not repeat itself.

You Will Date Beneath You- One consequence of dating someone who’s abusive is your self-esteem is crushed. And you let them crush it. So therefore you will not view yourself as worthy of quality company. Instead, you will settle for someone who simply does not hit you or put you down. A race horse being a horse alone does not make it a winner. Translated, you might find yourself dating a string of unemployed idiots or ex-cons for a little bit. Again, this is why therapy is important kids.

You Will Find Some People Don’t Relate- Yes, there are men who will ask you what you did to make your ex so crazy. Some might even call you bitter, God forbid you be honest. Others might walk away because it’s “too much.” Some women might tell you that you’re a “drama queen.” Also, if they are older they might inform you that you picked him, it was your fault you couldn’t deal with him. Or they might let you know you are an idiot for picking him in the first place. Either they are forced to look at their own stuff or life hasn’t happened to them yet. Don’t worry, when it does it will be brutal.

You Will Lose Faith In Love-  This is a given, and be prepared for it to happen. You will distrust men for sometime and will believe love will never find you. You will become the cynic at Disney Movies. Yeah, it happens. But be aware that just as there are bad men, there are good men that will treat you well, too. They key is working on yourself and breaking those patterns so you find them. Also, it is not giving up hope and having faith that there will be a happily ever after. Sometimes you have to go through hell to get to heaven. 

So it's not going to be happily ever after right away. Don't get discouraged, it does get better. It isn't a presto chango thing but it does get better. You will find nice people who want to date you, and your dreams can come true. But it won't be instant. It won't be because of some man who's the right one. It will be because you worked on yourself. For more on dating violence and legal solutions go to http://www.charlesullman.com/our-firm/fraternities4family/

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com

10 Warning Signs of An Abusive Partner

Once a year, my teacher Jeanene Gannon teaches a seminar on women’s self-defense at the UFC Gym on John’s Street. As someone who is passionate about MMA/kickboxing I take the class. A fiery woman barely standing five feet tall in stocking feet, this Hell’s Kitchen native not only cares about self-defense but women. Last year, Jeanene did the same seminar with guest teacher Razor Rob McCullough, a top dog in the UFC. I can safely say as a martial artist and woman, I found it fun, physically fulfilling, and informative. Not only did my teachers care about women and their safety, but they showed us statistics. Yes, numbers. Rape, stalking, and dating violence are real. To me, the numbers hit me harder in the gut than any jab cross punch ever could, and make my reasoning for studying self-defense came a lot closer to come. 

I was 21 and found myself trapped in a relationship with a partner who was emotionally, verbally, and physically abusive. No, I wasn’t some woman in a Lifetime Movie living in a small town. I was attending NYU and had my whole life ahead of me. Suddenly I was trapped. When I tried to leave my partner threatened to kidnap and kill me. He terrorized me, men I dated after I broke up with him, and my friends. His tactics were not limited to in person but to the internet as well. This was in the days before cyberbullying was a crime mind you. Fearing for my safety, I got a different mailing address. My mother also had his name and contact info on the refrigerator in her home in case I were to vanish. Textbooks give the signs of an abusive partner, and they are not wrong. Rather, when you see those behaviors mentioned in psych class it is much too late. They have already roped you in.

Here are some red flags I experienced early on, and now that my eyes are open I warn other young women.

  He Is A Bully- Bottom line, an abusive partner is not just a jerk to you but to everyone. He belittles other people constantly, and puts others down when he can. This man never has a nice thing to say about anyone ever. Now that you see how he treats them, just imagine how he is going to treat you.

He Does Not Get Along With Other Men- Just as women can smell a female manipulator, men have the same gift. If your male friends say he is a tool, and your father and brother don’t like him, they are not just being harsh judges of character. There is a reason. They see things you don’t. Listen to them, they are on your side.

  He Will Rush You Into a Relationship- Early stage dating is when one should take their time and get to know their partner. However, a man who is quick to say I love you and wants to be your boyfriend right away, this is dangerous. It is even more dangerous if he wants to cohabitate right away. He is not looking for a life partner but rather his next victim.

    He Will Pressure You Into Sex- An abusive partner does not care about other people, only themselves. They will pressure you into physical activity long before you are ready. They will tell you this is what adults do, and they want an adult relationship. No, this is what immature people do. An adult waits until their partner is ready to take that step and has a healthy discussion beforehand.

   He Will Be A Professional Victim- Someone who is an abuser is someone who right away will tell you what a terrible childhood they had. They might even embellish it. As women, they know we are wired as caregivers, and they will use this as ammo every time they mess up so you will forgive them.

    He Will Put Down The Things You Love Doing- Right away, an abusive partner cannot stand to be outdone or overshadowed. This is not just your friends or those you love, but things you love doing. If you like painting he will tell you that you have no talent and painting is a waste of time, etc. None of this is true. It’s because painting takes you away from him, and it’s all about him.

    He Will Be Too Close For Comfort With Certain Exes- An abusive partner does not respect boundaries and is a user. They might be very close with certain ex girlfriends, and tell them much too much about your relationship. Does it make you uncomfortable? It should. He might be sleeping with some still, rolling them for money, or keeping them in the wings as a way to have power over you. We already established he’s an unhealthy dude, don’t be surprised.

  He Will Cry Crocodile Tears- An abusive partner is someone who isn’t afraid to get emotional. This is not just limited to fits of anger and rage as is the stereotype, but also he will cry. Also, don’t be surprised if he half heartedly attempts suicide when you try to leave. For him, being alone and not having a victim is worse than death. Don’t fall for this mind game.

    He Has a History of This Behavior- He tells you about an ex “things got bad with” and how she “overreacted.” He might even shamelessly detail coercive sexual behavior too. Be aware and listen with both ears. This is a pattern, and he may even have a stalking/menacing charge filed by this woman he’s not telling you about. I know mine did.

  He Will Make You Abuse Back- An abusive relationship does not play out like Tori Spelling on 90210. Rather, you will get sucked into the cycle. You might start fights as a way to make him mess up and get power later. Or when he hits you, you might hit back. You suddenly think of yourself as passionate couple and not codependent. This is dangerous.

If you are dating someone like this, get out. It will only get worse. If you are getting out of a relationship of this kind, get out and stay out. Don’t look back and keep going. And if you don’t think you will ever be able to get out and it will never get better, I can tell you it does. Also, get counseling or go to a Twelve Step Group Like Al-Anon. Figure out why you picked Mr. Wrong, because it took two to tango. Figure out how stop these patterns like an invasion of Russia in the winter so history does not repeat itself. I can say doing this helped me.

 It is over eight years later. I work as a comedian and ventriloquist in NYC. My puppet children and I have appeared on national television. I write for the Huffington Post and have published a book. Regularly, I can be seen performing my act at night around NYC as well as in hospitals for children. Tomorrow I film my DVD at The Metropolitan Room. Joan Rivers and Liza Minelli have been known to perform there. If it seems I am bragging I apologize. Rather, I am letting young women know that I got out, kept fighting, and today things are remarkably different in a good way.

I was asked to write this blog by a representative of the Fraternities For Families Campaign http://www.charlesullman.com/our-firm/fraternities4family/ They asked me to collaborate. I felt compelled not only because they were young men taking action, but rather they were aware that domestic violence was everyone’s problem. Defying the typical frat boy stereotype, they showed they care about women and want to stop this problem, too. While I can only speak as a straight woman with an abusive male partner, just as there are bad men there are also bad women. Domestic violence also happens quite a bit in the LGBTQ community and goes unchecked. However, there are also good men too. While it takes two to make a thing go bad, it also takes an adult to walk away. It takes an adult to know the warning signs, set boundaries, and have some self-respect.

I have spoken about my experiences, but every once in a while I get a dissenter. Someone tells me I should “move on” and “get over it.” I have, but I want to educate other young people that this is real. Others claim we are only hearing my side of the story. Yes, this is true, but as I said it takes two to make a thing go bad. Male dissenters inform me I am “bitter.” Translated, I struck a nerve and made them look at their own behavior. As an activist who has chosen to make herself visible, I am not here to make people comfortable. The truth is not always pleasant. I am here to educate. If I helped one person reading, I have done my job.

In the words of GI Joe, “Knowing is half the battle.”

Love
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
www.aprilbrucker.com


Come see me April 22nd @ 7pm
Metropolitan Room
34 W. 22nd st.

Devotion (Earth, Wind, and Fire)

At the age of twenty-two, I seemed awfully young but felt I lived enough for ten people. I had done enough damage that it was time to say goodbye to some vices in my life. These were big steps for me. I never thought I would do it. It went from bad, to worse, to straight up fuckery. My life had become a pattern of bad choices, bad people, and always peering over my shoulder. The true friends I had were gone. They couldn’t handle me or what had become of my life. Who needed Shakespeare in the Park when I would arrive? Now here I was, getting my crippled sea legs to walk on land again.

It was July of 2007 when this transformation occurred. They said drink as much coffee and smoke as many cigarettes as you want. I never smoked really, so I just loaded up on coffee. Hell, it was still better than the speed I had taken to lose weight. Sitting at the diner, I was slurping down another cup of coffee. I had just done a comedy spot and was crying because I was having trouble getting my rhythm onstage sober. Oh and everyone decided to remind me what an asshole I was when I drank. Far from the child my mother raised and lost, I bemoaned my life to a group of new friends. They knew Bill and Bob, friends of mine along the way. As they entertained my young and stupid, the song “Devotion” began playing. A drop top with an ethnically ambiguous couple drove by. The song was slow, smooth, and relaxing. It was serenity and peace, something you don’t know after your 8^th cup of coffee.

 “Isn’t that the Temptations?” I asked.

“No, it’s Earth, Wind, and Fire. Of course a young, white girl would get them confused.” The black queen said sipping his coffee. He eyed me up and down with a mix of curiosity and contempt. His voice was low and languid just like the music. He said his name was Lenox just like the Avenue. Lighting his cigarette, he puffed into the night. Adding to the smog that was New York in the summer, I could feel us all reaching an early grave. Our stupid choices hadn’t killed us, maybe all the second hand smoke would.

“They all wear similar outfits and have Afros. How the hell was I to know.” I replied.

To my pleasant surprise Lenox laughed. “This is very true. However, they would know how to do their lipstick and keep it in the lines.” Damn that hurt.

“Snappedy snap!” Someone yelled. It was a Puerto Rican kid who’s name I didn’t get and who disappeared after that night.

The whole table laughed now. “Maybe a more neutral shade is all I am saying.” Lenox said taking another puff of his cigarette. As a black queen, he fearlessly rocked pink. He styled hair and was obsessed with clothing. “However, I will forgive this. We could still possibly be friends. However, if you had confused the Supremes with the Vandellas, there would never be a chance, Child.”

Time went on and that summer scene became a mere memory. Things got worse as I really had to come to terms with who I was. Instead of being cool and tough like the potential girlfriend to The Marlboro Man, I was more or less a dork. I had no skills when it came to men. The fact I had left a man who hit me and made me give up my dreams also left me with some trust issues. It also left me doubting my talents as a ventriloquist and comedian. Of course there was the fact I was always on thin ice with my boss…..

Things got better. People began to see I was growing up and doors began to open. I saw I was a good puppeteer and could do shows for all ages easily. That it was okay to be sensitive, hell sometimes it is one of my best qualities. I am coy as hell when it comes to dudes, and sometimes they think it’s adorable. I also had friends who for the most part obeyed the law. So yeah.

Then things got real. Some of my friends didn’t leave the lifestyle. I saw them continue to be tornados in the paths of those they crossed, and continually screw up their own lives. The rest of us grew up as they stayed jogging in place. Then there were those who experienced the joys of homelessness and jail. Finally, there were those who the lifestyle claimed. Yes, I know people who have overdosed, been murdered, or have taken their own life. Oh and in between there I experienced money problems, career uncertainty, and things not happening on my clock.

However I refused to give up. My puppets became my children and my career my only lover. Through dedication and hardwork, I got on national television not once but several times with my kiddies. I began doing shows for all ages. People recognized me on the street or at gigs from being on TV. I wrote and published a book. As a writer I managed to get my work into places deemed hard to break into and cliquish. As a comedian, I began to do well in front of audiences I never dreamed would like me. I also started doing shows for children in hospitals with my puppets. My same boss who wanted to fire me most of the time years earlier gave me an amazing opportunity because of my writing. I went from looking like hell to selling my own calendar on my website. If I ran into the old April on the street, I probably wouldn’t know her. If I did recognize her, I would probably try to lose her like a welfare mother does her sixth kid that she gets care giver money for.

However, I ran into the old April in several different ways this week. Some of it has been people from my past popping up. Some desperately want to leave the life style but keep getting sucked in. I want to help them, but they don’t want to do what it takes to get out. There is a part of me that feels guilty for not being able to help them. However, I feel selfish because I was able to get out.

This week I also counseled a friend of mine trying to exit a toxic, abusive relationship. She’s got some wreckage in her life. Her best friend and roommate hates her currently. It’s not her fault. The relationship is like a drug. I was there for the both of them. My friend who was in it telling her it’s like a drug, and it’s going to be a while before she feels okay. Also telling her to keep ignoring her ex’s pleas to come back. And her bestie telling her that my bud’s conduct wasn’t personal. The relationship is like a drug. I was also able to tell them there was life afterwards and the answer was to chase your dreams. I know because that’s not only what rescued me, but it’s what pretty much kept me from killing myself.

Last night a comedian friend confided in me he stopped drinking after his life got too crazy. He was feeling good but riding the rollercoaster. I basically told him his comedy would only get better, I know mine did. What I also told my pal was he wouldn’t have to become entangled with crazy women anymore. Oh, and he wouldn’t have to be humiliated the way he was ever again. I encouraged my friend to write more. It would cure his sleeping problem and would keep him sane. I know it’s what helped me, kept me sane, and kept me from blowing my brains out.

Sometimes I beat myself up for not being exactly where I want to be. But I am where I am supposed to be and am doing just fine. If I continue to walk into the light I have a shot of getting there. I can also tell people hell is hot as a mutherfucker, I have been there. I can also tell them that they can get out, I know cause I did.

This morning I was messaged by a booker I worked with during my exit from that lifestyle. He told me he had been following me and how proud he was of all I was doing. That is when it hit me. If I didn’t take the journey I did and didn’t get out, none of what I am doing would even be remotely possible. These days, my big worry is my DVD taping at The Metropolitan Room. Liza Minelli and Joan Rivers perform there. I am sweating to make it all come together. As I headline theatres and chase my punchlines, I am only getting funnier.

My naysayser may call me names and my enemies may use this as ammo against me. Truth be told, for as dysfunctional as the old me was, she is always going to be a part of my fabric. I am not ashamed of her. If anything, I am proud. And haters, please tell me something I didnt know about myself. Those I know who are struggling to get out or lost to the lifestyle, my victories are not merely for myself but for them as well. Just like I want these things for myself, so would they.

In my mind’s eye, I see Lenox with his cigarette, puffing away. I don’t know what happened to him. Word on the street was he fell back into drugs and was homeless last time I heard. In my mind though, he is still robust, funny, and on point. As he ashes his cigarette in my flashback, he quips like he always did, “Fag, they call this that in England.”

Then I hear his deep laugh. The sound always gives me comfort. It is bright and clear as ever as spring is now trying to make an appearance. I say winter is like an ugly girl at a party who is just dampening the place and just won’t leave. Lenox somewhere agrees. He taught me Earth, Wind, and Fire were different from the Temptations. He taught me to keep my lipstick within the liner. As the sunlight hits my skin, I hear “Devotion” from an ambitious, open window. Someone with cabin fever is doing spring cleaning. They are throwing out the bad and keeping the good. It is a sign of growth. It is something we should all do at all times of our lives. It is something that I did once upon a time that changed everything.

 “Thru devotion, blessed are the children.”

Love

April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl

www.aprilbrucker.com

Come see me at the Metropolitan Room April 22nd at 7pm

Fighting Back

A few weeks ago, I was minding my own business on the street in Manhattan. It was the day before I was to be published in the Huffington Post. Things were going well. That is, when I was approached by a man I knew in passing. We began talking and the next thing I knew he grabbed my hand. His grip was hard, iron clad. I asked him to let my hand go and he said no. I repeatedly asked him until I yanked it out.

I was alarmed. I never realized this acquaintance was such a sick fuck. As a young person, and I have written about this, I experienced a violent relationship with a former fiancé. One thing about me is that I don't take any kind of bullying-especially bullying from a man-lying down. So just when I didn't think it could get worse it did. The idiot asked me if I could have a hug. I told him no. And then he had the nerve to ask me why. That is when I cursed him out. I was so angry and scared that I didn't know what he was going to do next. But this idiot wasn't going to take advantage of me. So I stomped on his foot, spit on him, and ran in the other direction. For the rest of the day I was so angry. I was angry some sick man thought he could take advantage of me because I was a woman who wasn't all that big. I was angry that for as bright and accomplished as I was, and as many women are, we still are treated like second class citizens on the street. I was angry that in a world where women supposedly have equal rights we are still victims to sadists who feel this behavior is appropriate.

Later, I found out this idiot had a history of doing this to women. Many of these women either got upset and changed their routine as not to see this creep, or they just felt uncomfortable and sick. They told me I was a "hero." Still, the whole experience left me shaken. I wanted to believe so badly sexism was dead, but unfortunately the beast is alive and well.

I am writing this because had I not known self-defense I would have been a victim. While women's rights have come a long way, unfortunately we are still moving targets on the street. There are men who still prey on us. This is why we need to fight back.

I am writing this blog to encourage all women to take self-defense. Take it at your local YMCA or karate school. Not only is it a good workout, but it also centers you and is a great way to express anger management. The common misconception about self-defense is that it teaches you to be a hot head. The first thing any self-defense instructor will tell you is that a truly brave person avoids conflict, and fights when they have no other option.

Yesterday Aries, the assistant, spoke of a champion MMA fighter who had come out of an abusive marriage and trained with him. Having no money, she cleaned mats at his gym. But she trained and said she would never let that happen to her again. It gave me hope not just after my little scuffle, but that I had been doing the right thing by transforming myself from the pathetic person who had endured the bully of a partner I had at twenty-one.

It was the universe's subtle way of letting me know that yes, this was a good thing I was doing for myself and I had to continue to do good things for myself. It also let me know that it was going to be alright. The message self-defense gives women is that they can only be victims if they allow themselves. The message I give anyone regardless of race, color, creed, or gender is that you are only a victim if you allow others to make you so. It also makes me more fearless with my activism. While that is an identity that makes some uncomfortable, it serves to help others.

There are no victims, there are only volunteers.

If my message is too much for some (and when I say some I mean mostly men unfortunately), I am sorry I am not in the comfortable mold called pathetic woman. If my message is too in your face, I am sorry I don't speak like a lady. If you think labeling me as an angry woman for the way I handled that dip shit is appropriate, do it. I will lose no sleep.

I could speak about the issues the world at large has against women. About how the white, hederosexist majority has declared a war against my gender. About how religion in general has declared a war against my gender. But that is for another blog. However, one must always fight back.

That is why I recommend Jeanene and Aries at the UFC Gym. Request their seminar when you can.

xoxoxo
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook, also through Brown and NYU Books
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Summer
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Ali Fornay Center

All Apologies (Nirvana)

A few days ago I wrote a blog post about how I not only had been in an abusive relationship, but also survived and turned my life around. I didn’t do this to speak the victimese many writers and women’s activists do, but rather to make myself visible to a young woman, any young woman, who needed to hear that it was possible to have a life after dating violence. That they didn’t deserve to be belittled by anyone, man or woman (domestic violence happens in lesbian relationships as well). My reason for telling my story was to let people know that they were responsible for how they let others treat them. That also, we pick our partners, etc.

In my journey as an activist, I have gotten lots of responses in my sharing about my past as a dating violence survivor. The comedy has gotten laughs, which is the goal. But also, it has made me visible. It has gotten other young women to speak to me about their experiences. Of course there have been the gamut of male bookers who have accused me of being bitter. I laugh and give a shout out to the good dudes. How does that make me bitter? Of course there are those insistent that because I speak out on behalf of women I am either a man hater or a lesbian, or a lesbian man hater. Contrary to what those Neanderthals believe, most lesbians don’t hate men. It’s those of us forced to date them that despise them most. Finally there are those dudes who say, “Get over it.” Translated, I struck a nerve. Believe it or not that is the goal of every activist. So when I hear, “Get over it,” I know someone was made to look at his own behavior and didn’t like it. Note, never in any of my exchanges do I say I hate men. This is just a classic example of uninformed idiots putting words in the mouth of a woman with opinions.

The disturbing response I got this week was from some rando who felt the need to hijack my fan page. He told me I made some “accusations” against my ex, and technically if I could not back this up he could sue me for libel. And that I better play it safe and take the blog down and never again blog about my experience. Wait a minute…Why do I have to stand accused? Why do I have to prove my ex did these terrible things to me? Why are they even being called accusations? Oh and here is the best part, I didn’t use his name. So there is no law suit. I am a lawyer’s kid, I know about the law. This moron, on the other hand, was just a man who wanted to hear himself talk.

This feedback in particular upset me because I have no reason to lie about surviving dating violence. I have no pathological reason to make up a story about being stalked unless I am just that desperate to get back at him which I am not. I am also not that desperate for attention. A stalker is not a fiend of convience let me tell you. If anything, they threaten your safety to the point you have to change your routine. An abusive ex is not something you make up either. Instead, when you are with them you make up excuses about why you continue to stay and feed into the codependent cycle you have created together. Yes, a shit relationship is not an I project but a we project.

 That is not what made me most pissed. What a comment like this does as it not just puts me in a place that I have to be an apologist but it does this to all victims. It puts us in a place where we are standing with our backs against the wall and the proverbial gun to our heads. It puts us in a place of blame. Then when we dare speak out it makes us as if we are the architects of our misery. Of course it is basically telling us that we are bitter. Bitter is the wrong word. We are honest. It tells us we are at fault. Yes, we picked our partners. Yes, we chose to stay whether it was eight months or eight years. But eventually we chose to leave.

What was most outrageous, aside from the fact this obvious chauvinist put me in a place where I had to defend myself, was he suggested I take the blog down as not to cause anymore trouble. I endured a year of hell and two more years of a stalker who terrorized me, stalked me by-proxy, and harassed the men I dated. I invested in a separate mailing address just to keep myself safe. My mother had his name on the refrigerator in case I disappeared. Even during the stalking I was nothing but a lady. I didn’t respond to the behavior. While I didn’t feed into him, it killed me inside. Despite the fact he was a master manipulator, I did love the man at one point. So yes I have been to hell thank you very much!

I thought about ripping into that moron for his feedback about my “accusations,” as if I were making them up. For putting me on trial, as if I would be breaking my ass doing all the activism I do because apparently I just have mental problems, the ability to lie, and too much time on my hands. Of course then there is my activism, I only do that because I have nothing else to do as well and just want something to whine about. So I guess what I have really wasted page space saying was, “Go to hell, asshole.”

I thought about how to rip up this idiot with nothing to say. But instead I blocked him. So I will say this. I will speak out when it comes to violence against women. On the matter of dating violence, I will continue to tell people about the psychological and physical dangers. In addition, I will also continue to speak out on behalf of stalking victims and the enforcement of stalking laws. As well, I will continue to champion victim’s rights because they have none. I will also continue to be open, honest, and willing to be visible.  Yes, if you haven’t figured it out I will continue….

I am sorry if my identity causes some people discomfort. I am sorry if some men don’t like the fact I came through hell at the hands of one of their own and am doing amazingly well as a feminist and independent woman. I am sorry if some women who have been married to the only man I ever dated forever think I just need to lighten up. I am sorry my presence is such an abhoration to some people. I am sorry that I have been successful despite the fact so many people wrote me off because some guy was busy beating my head in. I am sorry….

But on that note if this is the way you feel please do not watch me on TV, I am afraid I will turn to stone. Please don’t buy my books, I don’t need your money laced with prejudice and sexism. While you are at it, please don’t support me in any way. Really, many more who want to support me will. Many more who need to see me and hear me will. I don’t need you, so please don’t….

I said my peace. Some will agree. Some will disagree. At the end of the day not much has changed since Amelia Earhardt. How incredibly sad….

 

xoxoxo
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook, also through Brown and NYU Books
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Summer
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Ali Fornay Center

This Girl is on Fire (Alicia Keys)

I have been feeling a lot lately. The career is amazing, almost as if God Himself/Herself/Itsself ascended and gifted it to me. However I am having some deja vu and not in a good way. I have written about this a lot. When I was twenty one I found myself in a relationship with someone who was the textbook definition of a psychopath. He lacked empathy of any sort. Not to mention was verbally, physically, and emotionally abusive. During the course of the relationship I found my safety and well being threatened on several occasions. Not to mention he put everything I did down.

 I wasn't funny according to him, so I started dropping the ball with comedy. I couldn't act according to him, so I began to explore other career paths. Yes, they made me unhappy but it meant I was supporting him. Oh and his friends thought the ventriloquism was stupid and creepy so I gave that up too. He said me or the puppets. I chose him. My ex had been like Prince Charming when we met. It was flowers. It was presents from wherever he could pick them up off the street. Then one day I set him off and blamo. Suddenly this monster reared it's head. We fought. We made up. He promised to change. He never did for very long though. My ex tried to kill himself in front of me not once but twice. Instead of running away I felt sorry for him, and told myself if I stayed maybe he would get help and change. My ex threatened to kill his mother in order to get the insurance money to be with me. Instead of running I tried to get him to do things like get a job, but that never lasted for more than three days. My ex also choked me on one occasion and I nearly blacked out. I arrived to class with strangle marks around my neck and a bullshit story because he promised never to do it again. The list goes on.....

In the end, I can list all the shit things he did to me but I let him. I kept staying hoping it would change. In the end I picked him though. He never made a secret of the fact he was anti-social personality or borderline textbook definition. My ex got a psych discharge from the Navy and from what I gather he may have punched a commanding officer. Truth is, as I said, I picked him. I choose him. Maybe it was being young and stupid, hoping love could fix everything. Maybe it was lack of self-esteem and just wanting a boyfriend. I was all too willing to overlook everything because I was tired of being alone. Even when he shoved it in my face that the only reason I got into NYU was because my parents were "rich" and my dad was a lawyer. I let my whole disaster of a relationship happen, even when he isolated me from my friends and tried to take me away from my family. For as close as I am to my mother, I never let her know what was going on.

When things ended, I had a bunch of bad memories and a different mailing address as not to be found. I did things I thought would make it better. I drank too much and then some. I engaged in other stupid behaviors. I didnt eat cause why? Of course there were the diet pills that made me peppy as shit. I dated ex cons because nice guys were either scared of the fact my ex was totally nuts, or were turned off by the fact I was insane. The ex cons treated me well but they came with complications. Things were crazy, things were wild, but there was no way in hell anyone was ever gonna put a cattle brand on me again.

Then things got bad and I kind of cleaned up my act a tad. I began to talk about my ex in my act. The bits killed. I got on TV some. I wrote a book. I established a hell of a career after living through hell. I was doing okay, right? Not to mention my puppet babies and I became reunited.

Around the time my puppet children and I got on TLC, they highlighted that my ex made me choose between me and my puppets. It was the way it was edited I guess. In interviews I was honest, by ex was sick. I got fan letters from people telling me I made the right decision. When I opened up in interviews, I got fan letters from young women who told me how they had an ex who was similar. Suddenly it occurred to me I had a bigger function, to end dating violence and above all things to end bullying.

I remember one reporter for a magazine in London asked me if I had any photos of me and my ex. I said, "No, he used to hit me. I burned them."

I remember there was a dead silence on the phone ass he whispered, "Sorry." It was almost as if she felt like she put her foot in her mouth by asking. Wasnt her fault though, how was she supposed to know there was more to the story without asking questions?

In my weekly webcasts I would share about my experience as someone who was bullied and someone who had come out of an abusive relationship. My followers rallied around me and I got the sense I was helping people which was cool. I came down like white rice on a paper plate in a snow storm when it came to men who kicked and slapped women around. In a lot of ways I fancied myself a feminine avenger of sorts. My mother had issues with this identity, but I was choosing the activist route by making myself as visible as possible. It was my way of letting young people know they deserved to be treated well regardless of class, gender, sexual orientation, etc. Again, I was okay, right?

A year ago I exploded online in a way I never imagined I would. It was around the Daniel Tosh time. To make a long story short, I found myself fighting online. The people I was fighting with werent enemies or people who hated me, but rather my own friends who were in my corner telling me to get a life. I remember appearing on a friend's radio show where a female caller told me if shit bothered me that much to just change the TV channel or to not purchase his album. She had also mentioned she had been raped once upon a time and was familiar with the angst I was feeling. The truth was, I was far from okay. In my quest to make the world a better place I knew there was a time to scream and shout. Also, there was a time to walk away, but also a time to laugh.

What had happened was in my quest not to be a victim, I had become rather fluent in victimese. In my journey not to make excuses for myself, I had bought into the philosophy of excusology. I was becoming everything I hated when it came to women's rights activist. I have never been a whiner and hate that brand of activism because it paints women as not having a role in their own lives, but rather pawns of a male society. However, I had comfortably set up my tent there.

Around that time I got the opportunity to participate in a campaign about dating violence The campaign was going to have me with two black eyes and other scratch marks on my arms. I remember being repulsed at the thought. This was not the message I wanted to send to young women at all. I remember talking to my mom around that time and she said, "Well he never hit you, right?" And thats when I told her the truth. My mom, who was only known bits and pieces of why her daughter became an angry lunatic around that time said, "I will kill him. If I ever see him, I will kill him." During this phase it began to occur to me the way to make a difference was not to pronounce this identity in an aggressive sense but rather to keep doing well with my life.

That is when I got the fire under my ass to publish my book. Since then I have recorded my audiobook. Oh and my book is a part of the collection at Brown, NYU, and Mensa said it was a Must Read. Britney Spears also plugged me on her website. Huffington Post let me write a piece. Fans write me and want me and my puppets to make videos about them. You know the scoop. The best revenge is to live well.

The ex has also reached out several times in order to make amends, which leads me to believe he is part of a Twelve Step or Group Therapy Program of some sort. Getting the amends has made me less angry about that part in my life. It has also made me accept my part in the scheme of things, whether it was staying or picking fights in order to get a leg up myself. It has also made it easier for me to trust people. I thought about writing him back but my mom said it best, "April, your ex is someone who cannot respect you as a person, and he has shown you who he is. You are a fool to ever speak to him again." My mom was right and everyone around me has echoed the same sentiment. He cannot respect boundaries and has too many issues. I took the healthy step of blocking him. While I did that, at the same time I forgive him. He had a hellacious childhood and didnt know any better. Maybe he has found a Higher Power who is guiding him, giving him relief against his demons. I can only hope and pray God protects others from his anger, but most importantly, God protects him from himself.

In a lot of ways I am grateful I walked this path. Not only did I get my proverbial shit together, but I have served as a guide to others it will be okay. I also know it's alright to be alone, and never at any time do I have to tolerate bullying or harassment from anyone, male or female. I am confident and can stand on my own and dont need anyone to pay my way. Sometimes I am so strong I surprise myself. Then I retreat to my crying corner with my cookie dough like any woman in New York. Okay, I had to put a joke in cause this piece is a little heavy.

At the same time, Rambo is my dream man because we have a lot in common. One is that we live in a world that is not always tailor made for us. People don't always understand what it's like to come out of hell. When I used to explain to people what I had been through I would always get the "Get over it." Or better yet, "Why do you keep provoking your ex?" Yes, I asked to be used as a punching bag! Of course there are the occasions when I want to knock the fucking grill out of Lil Wayne's mouth, or go to the after life and kick Tupac where he really thinks. For the record I wouldn't be a woman, I would be a "bitch" on that occasion. And sometimes I wish like Rambo my dream man I came equipped with a flame thrower and could just torch every half naked Billboard of a woman and every strip club that marginalizes my gender. Or there are those times I have just screamed my head off at some asshole male who pushes me around because I am a woman, and not that big. I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs because this all opens a door and gives men the thumbs up that women are meant to be used, abused, and treated as chattel.

On the flipside, I never get what I want when I go that route. With the rappers, it is all an act. I have a lot of rapper friends as a matter of fact. Plus if I yell and scream it gives Lil Wayne and his woman hating grill more publicity. While Tupac used the term bitch loosely, he also campaigned relentlessly for women. Strip clubs kept me employed as a publicity person once upon a time, and at the root of it they aren't evil people either. The world won't change because I have a bad day. The world won't change because I have issues. It will keep spinning and I have to learn to work with it which means I have to accept it. Yes, whether it is the gender marginalization I feel as a comedian and writer or in general. If I let it upset me too much I just get really angry, explode, and end up making an ass of myself.

However, I can make a change. I can be successful despite the fact comedy favors undeserving, good looking pretty boys from time to time. I can say my talent got me in the door and have staying power as their testosterone driven brand of basement humor dies. I can be grateful I came out of a bad phase of my life, and live every day to it's fullest. I can enjoy my friends and have an open, honest dialogue with my family. I can treat those around me with dignity and respect regardless of who they are. I can share my experience, strength and hope when the door opens for me to do so, making me visible to others who need to see/hear me. I can also speak on behalf of women's rights and vote according at the poles. Most importantly, I can know in my heart I deserve not only to be happy but to be treated well. Oh and I can keep my sanity without looking like a damn fool.

The other day I was on the train when two idiots who were seventeen were talking and referred to a girl they wanted to "bone" as a "thorough bread." There was a part of me that wanted to smack these two assholes to whatever shithole they came from and whatever thing bore them. Then I stopped myself. While I am tiny and it would have been funny as hell, these two morons were not worth a felony charge. Plus the tombs are not air conditioned in the summer. Plus if they spoke this way about women, one of two things was going to happen:

1. Some girl there own age would slap them. That is after they took her to McDonalds and made her pay.

2. They probably had no women and their only hope for love was living on their right hand and her name was Palmala Han Solo. She's Thai I suppose.

So yeah, I just have to keep moving and can't let the past cripple me. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is the present because it is a gift.

xoxoxo
April
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook, also through Brown and NYU Books
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Summer
www.youtube.com/aprilthestarr
Portion of proceeds go to Ali Fornay Center