My family story begins on a hot, summer day at the moment my mother was unaware her water had broken. Scheduled for a routine appointment, she sat across from her OB just to learn I was coming. My grandmother grabbed one leg, my aunt grabbed the other, and in three pushes, as the Summer Olympics torch was being passed through the city of Columbia, South Carolina, at exactly 8:19pm on June 25th, 1996…I was here. One for the Father. One for the Son. One for the Holy Spirit.

As my mother laid on her back during my delivery, a 21-year old college student trying to figure out life in her 20’s, what in the hell was she going to do with a baby? She was going to do what was best for me. That’s what. So, she eventually agreed that my grandparents would raise me- “Nana and Papa”, as I call them- and nothing was ever the same.

Since my time with my grandparents, I grew up in a predominantly Black community, faithfully attended a predominantly Black megachurch, shuffled through predominantly Black schools, and navigated a lot of predominantly Black things. Life provided by them afforded a number of opportunities that did not exist for my peers who had to choose between an education and gang-bangin’. While some were just simply trying to make it, step up at home, get free meals, and/or take care of younger siblings, I was at Girl Scouts, piano lessons, swim meets, white-washed summer camps, or karate. My grandparents sacrificed for my childhood and gave love and comfort to me, the best way they could.

While I value the warmth, security, and village provided to me by my family, it’d be remiss of me to say everything was and is perfect. Nothing is. And here I am, a grown-ass woman, dissecting where imperfection got the best of me. Got the best of us. And where things could’ve been different.

Where there could’ve been space.
Where words could’ve been said.
Where secrets could’ve been shared.
Where I could’ve said “No”

But, my past has gone. Never to be re-visited, re-done, or re-written. My future, however? Well, here we are writing. Writing with transformation. Writing with my dreams. Writing with hope. Writing with healing.

What are we transforming? What are we healing?

The Black community. The Black family. The Black church. And all the other Black things in between that tell us to “Stop acting white”, “Stop eating”, “Stop acting fast”, “Stop talking back to me”, and “Don’t have sex too early”. Welcome to what grinds my gears.

“They see you doin' good, now it's kinda hard to diss you.
Niggas be sick when they remember all the bad they wished you.”
--Nicki Minaj

I had my first boyfriend in high school. While the actual relationship was short-lived, little did I know my off-and-on, emotionally abusive romance with him would carry me into college. And I would not actually leave until my junior year when he finally ghosted me. My 20’s have afforded me a lot of time to learn a lot about healthy relationships, dating, and intimacy. Some of my biggest lessons being: you can’t rush your healing journey, the love languages, hurt people hurt people, people can only love you as much as they know how to love themselves, to desire and/or love also means to suffer, and ghosting is not okay - yet so inevitable. In addition to these, I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned is summed up in two words-attachment styles.

Secure. Anxious. Dismissive avoidant. Fearful avoidant.

These are all the ways in which our bond formed with our primary caregiver (usually a parent), and eventually, our intimate partners. I’ve gone through a number of therapy sessions to learn that I am a fearful-avoidant to a tee - someone who strongly fears rejection, has high relationship anxiety, and craves love, yet pushes it away when I get it. Books, therapists, and research will tell you that this is a result of not feeling safe as a child, having one or both emotionally unavailable parents, and/or living in a constant state of stress or chaos.

For these reasons, I understand I cannot control my familial circumstances. I was adopted into a household of Christianity and emotional abuse. Black womanhood and toxic masculinity. Enmeshment and unavailability. Nor can I undo my family environment where I was rooted in Black superwoman strength and performance under all circumstances. And I definitely cannot forget the ways in which I was raised to be a “good girl”, obey, be nice, and one day, get married. I can’t get a re-do. Despite how tumultuous the relationships around me were, I don’t know what kind of alternate life would wait for me if anything was different. I’d like to think maybe better, but circumstances lead me to believe that isn’t the case. I also know I can’t and don't expect therapy to “fix” me. There are wounds I will always carry from my upbringing, crosses I will always bear. I recognize, however, the ways in which relationships were modeled and framed to me by the world around me. The ways in which violence, emotional abuse, emotional turmoil, and conflict were handled. The ways in which dreams are sold it is better to stay than leave, whether it be for the sake of children, love, or not being alone. The ways in which a dangerous theology and ideology preached that it is better to stay married if you’ve got a “good” husband or a “good” woman, or that divorce is essentially never supposed to happen (Luke 16:18; Matthew 5:32; 1 Corinthians 7:10-11; 1 Corinthians 7:15). The ways in which love and prayer are always the answer until it isn’t.

In the State of South Carolina alone, we have finally moved out of the top 10 states for women killed by men, since 1996 (Fortier-Bensen). Religion and churches are a personal and institutional reality in the lives of many women, just like me. Because of it, next to our family and communities, the church provides significant context as we address dating, relationships, marriage, violence, and victimization. Through texts, teachings, spiritual groups, etc., the church continues to play an impact on values and belief systems to its congregation. Living in communities ranked as the worst states for violence against women, where women are gunned down in the streets, where men will taunt, curse, and beat women like it’s nothing. It goes without saying that sometimes love and prayer is not enough. More than 2 in 5 women will experience either physical violence, sexual violence, or intimate partner stalking in their lifetimes.

While some may decipher the Bible and Sunday morning sermons as resources and empowerment to leave abuse and find safety and healing, others may be led to excuse, condone, and permit emotionally manipulative, narcissistic, territorial, and very dangerous behavior in relationships (Fortune and Enger). Consequently, this leads to generations of women accepting toxic masculinity, infidelity, and inescapably creating a vicious cycle of ideals and narratives passed to younger women that it is better to stay (Fortune and Enger). It is better to endure pain, it is better to be with someone than to be alone.

One of those younger women was me.

But, we should not fear being alone; even though every holiday season can be a single woman’s worst nightmare. Coming home yet again, the “Are you dating anyone?” question can be intimidating. The “You’re not seeing anyone yet?” question can feel daunting. And if we’re surrounded by so many “relationship goals”, the timeline for marriage and children can feel forced, rushed, and a frequent chase in streetcars named desire that we may not even want.

While my family never forced marriage on me, it was still an aspiration I felt I should have. At least, it was an aspiration every woman in my family seemed to cling to as I was a child….even in frequent arguments, a lack of emotional coaching, and domestic violence. Currently, on every given day, my family will encourage me to take my time, to choose my equal, and to never settle. Sometimes, I often wonder if these statements are out of regret. And sometimes, my savior complex wishes I could release them from their shackles if it is. So, while we continuously spend our time now discussing less and less about marriage and dating, and more about my goals and big dreams to uproot, travel, heal, and cherish being my own great love, we missed important conversations in the past about calling the shots in my sex life, intimacy, how to communicate, how to trust, how to be in a healthy relationship, and how to love.

And in that same vein, young Adia so desperately needed more girl talks about dating, how to pick emotionally available partners, how to not be so available, how rejection is more about compatibility and less about a blow to my ego’s self-esteem and sense of worth. How to let go when love is no longer enough. And most importantly...how to leave.

References/Citations

Fortier-Bensen, Tony. WCIV Staff. “South Carolina out of Top 10 for Women Killed by Domestic Violence, First Time since 1996.” WCIV, WCIV, 25 Sept. 2020, abcnews4.com/news/local/south-carolina-out-of-top-10-for-women-killed-by-domestic-violence-first-time-since-1996.

Fortune and Enger. “Violence Against Women and the Role of Religion.” VAWnet.org, Mar. 2005, vawnet.org/material/violence-against-women-and-role-religion.

Adia R. Louden

Adia R. Louden currently works as a Data Analyst for the State of South Carolina, analyzing crimes against women, active offenders, and mental health programs and services. In her current position, Adia works to ensure that survivors are heard, remain safe, and perpetrators are offered a path to redemption. By serving in this position, she is fulfilling a part in what she deems her own life mantra said best by the late Audre Lorde-“I am not free while any woman is unfree…even when her shackles are different from my own.” In May of 2019, Adia received her Master of Public Health in Epidemiology and Certificate in Maternal and Child Health from Emory University. Prior to Emory, Adia received a Bachelor of Science in the School of Natural Sciences and Mathematics at Claflin University, where she was also a member of the Alice Carson Tisdale Honors College. Her career and research interests are in: domestic and gender-based violence, sexual and reproductive health, and gender equity. Adia is also the creator of Dialosophy-a blog that serves to provide a platform towards advancing women's rights to health, well-being, and freedom by providing resources so that each woman can navigate her own life, HER way...and create HERstory.
Instagram: @adiarlouden

Dating, Relationships, and Marriage from "Pills and Potions"

Where there could’ve been space.

Where words could’ve been said.

Where secrets could’ve been shared.

Where I could’ve said “No”

“They see you doin' good, now it's kinda hard to diss you.

Niggas be sick when they remember all the bad they wished you.”

--Nicki Minaj

Secure. Anxious. Dismissive avoidant. Fearful avoidant.

One of those younger women was me.

References/Citations