What makes a defining moment?

I've had many "defining moments" in my life - moments and events that helped to shape the person that I grew to become. I can remember events back as far as preschool age. The interesting thing is that most of the moments that I consider defining moments were negative...in first grade when I lost my rhythm stick in our class's stage production of the school assembly and my teacher blamed me for ruining the whole thing in front of everyone...in 5th grade when I was followed and harrassed by my peers constantly, all because I wasn't allowed to watch rated R movies (I couldn't see Jaws because of the woman on the poster)...being slapped by my high school boyfriend when I was 15, being raped by a senior football player when I was a junior and not telling anyone, finding nude photos that my father took and not telling anyone because I didn't want him to get in trouble, and more things that follow the strand of humiliation, secrecy and shame. As a result I've spent the better part of the recent years of my adult life digging out of that hole and finding out who I really am and becoming strong.

When trying to think of ONE defining moment in my life that I could identify as one that truly altered the path of my life, I remembered an incident way back in High School. My parents were very protective of me as a child, so much that once I hit high school I pretty much cut the cord and did what I wanted. My dad didn't like it. I stayed at friends' houses on the weekends, I went out basically when I wanted, (my parents didn't enforce a curfew, as long as I was home at a "reasonable" hour) I started working because I didn't want to rely on my dad for money - I wanted my independence, even at that young age of 14.

On this particular rainy night I wanted to go to a dance and for whatever reason my father decided he didn't want me to go. Hmph. I was going. He said no, I said yes. I picked up the phone to call a friend and he ripped it out of the wall. We started screaming at each other, which we did often, and I grabbed my coat and walked out the front door. From a parent's perspective, some would say I was a rotten spoiled brat with no respect. From my perspective it was all about getting out from under his thumb because I knew the monster that he was - he didn't respect me, he didn't respect my mother, and I was not going to let him control me. Looking back and comparing me to my own son who is now 14, I'm amazed that I had that clarity of thinking at such a young age. Even then, I had been waiting for years until the day when I could get a job - I wanted my own money, control over my own life, as much as I could have it so I didn't have to depend on him.

It was pouring rain, I ran down the street. I could hear my father in the car following me. I ducked through backyards and down sidestreets to avoid him. I made it through our neighborhood and the next. I got to the main road, and ducked into the backyard of a boy whom I knew but didn't really know that well. I hid behind his trash cans in the rain. A few minutes later his mother came out and asked if I was ok. I said "I'm fine - I'm just hiding from my dad." (okaaayyy) She asked if I wanted to come in and I said no - I'd be leaving in a minute. When I thought the coast was clear I got up and started walking down the street. The familiar headlights pulled up along side me. I kept walking. He said "Come home". I said no. He said "Please come home - for your mother. She's worried sick." I stopped, and without looking at him, got in the car and we went home.

At home, I talked to my mother, I talked to my father, and though I don't remember what we talked about, I remember going back out. I won.

This event reminds me that from that very young age I was an independent, strong, stubborn, determined, driven person that could get whatever she wanted when the stakes were high enough. I was also not unrealistic and could be tender when I was needed by the right people. I didn't hurt people - even when they hurt me - I was not vindictive - I only protected myself. Sometimes I guess that could hurt people, but they had hurt me first.

The relationship with my father over the years has gone up and down, backward and forward, and backward again, and my other personal relationships have done the same thing. Sometimes I have been a doormat and forgotten about that drive that has always lived inside me. When my children were little I didn't trust my judgement and thought I was doing everything wrong, so I felt awful about that. I had body image issues. I couldn't take criticism. The list goes on and on. My self esteem was crushed for so long until recent years, and only now am I becoming a stronger person. It's been hard, and it's still a work in progress, but I'm stronger than I've been since I can ever remember, and this exercise has helped remind me that I have had the strength in me all along.