I have had the pleasure of interacting with a wonderful young lady named Dinaledi Mosa Tleane. I call her Stars. Thats a fitting name (she is bright, she is vibrant, she is witty, aims high, stylish and works hard). We connect in many different ways that are neither describeable nor fathomable. We click. This young lady has such depth in her character, how many times do you come across a 24 year old who loves and understands Jazz Music? Im talking Nina Simone, Chris Botti and the like. Her confidence allows her to take long and comfortable strolls to places where other females her age wouldnt dare step. I have observed her humour, her straight-forward demenour, her peace and even her rage and wondered where her fire comes from.
I have learnt this analogy from her: "Sometimes in life you have to close your eyes, run as fast as you can and hit that wall with all you have. Indeed the wall may not break, but it will sure shake, and if you do it enough times...that wall will eventually break." Yep, thats my stars - high levels of profound at that age.
Below is her story. She responded to the call for us all to tell our stories. The stories that bind us and never set us free. The stories we keep to ourselves until our hearts are filled to the brim with hatred, shame and pain. Stories that affect who we are, how we relate to others, our relationships, our daily lives. Her story (unedited and in her own words is below).
" I don’t know much… All I know is that I hate him. And many nights I prayed for his death.
I am battling with words…
Rather I am battling with hatred and fear.
I hate him so much… that I feel so stupid. I know better not to waste feelings on such a person. I know better to not give a hell about him. But I do….
So many nights I prayed that he would love us. All we got from him was a beating…
I am battling with words…
I’m battling with emotions…
He beat her; he chased us on the streets in the middle of the night… At times, bare footed, other times barely dressed.
He broke her nose one time… and chased us out when we tried to intervene.
Most Friday nights, we spent at the police station... all four of us.
I remember one summer evening. The clouds were heavily pregnant… and I could feel thunder and lightning storm brewing.
It rained hard… and the thunder was just too loud, and lightning was just too bright. It poured like hell, and once again we were on the streets… Trying to find a place to lay our heads… He kicked us out while the storm was on. We ran, with no idea where we going. That’s where my fear of thunder and lightning comes from.
I hated her. I really did. I hated her for staying there. WHY did she stay? She should have left, maybe our childhood wouldn’t have been so screwed up…
Aaaah!!!
I am battling with words.
I am battling with HATREAD and FEAR.
I don’t want to remember. And I have done well to hide these things… I have done well in living a lie.
I hate him so much that I shake when I think about him.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It could take me a year to tell you the truth about us. And that would only be a percentage of it.
When my peers dreamt of their wedding days, I dreamt of the day he died. Oh how happy I would have been. No wonder none of my relationships work out. I am always on the lookout of “him” in every man I date. And I always find it.
Honesty… If I never had to see him again, I would be the happiest person alive. But see, for now, he has a hold over us. And it is my mission to break that hold. I work hard every day, just so that I can buy my mom her OWN house. NOT a house jointly owned with him.
I want him to suffer and it is ridiculous because he doesn’t give a F@%k about me nor my feelings.
All I know is I want him to pay a very hefty price.
I’m also terrified. By rate that I am going, I will collapse and probably not wake up. I know that I need to forgive and move on. But how do I forgive someone who feels like they haven’t wrong me?
Can I just get what I want for a change? Can I be genuinely happy?
I am battling with words.
I rather speak… and tell the Truth about us."
Your ministry is where your misery has been - tell your story.
There is some little girl out there who can be saved or healed by your story. She needs to hear not only about your success but also about what pains you, about your failures. Tell your story.
You're loved
MM
