Aotearoa in 20: From heartbreak to recovery, and on to victory
Wednesday, 9 September 2020
Claire Millar pushed through the trauma of her abusive relationships to find the love of her life. She shares her story for Aotearoa in 20, a Stuff special project.
WARNING: This story addresses abuse
I like my hair long now. It used to be just a tangled mess I hid behind. At the time I didn’t think anyone noticed, but looking back it was obvious. I lived behind the mop that separated me from everyone else.
Eyes are the window to the soul. I didn’t want anyone seeing mine, and I didn’t want to look either.
I can remember when I saw them for the first time, when I really looked at myself. I cried, looking back at the abuse. I cut off the strands that tied me to my past. I’ll never forget what happened, but after years of hurt I was ready to move forward.
I’m a 46-year-old lady who’s comfortable in my own body now.
**READ MORE:
* Aotearoa in 20: Country lad with an American dream
* Aotearoa in 20: Picked on woman pushes past stigmatism and slurs to shine
* Aotearoa in 20: Barbara Henley is making each day a mission
**
Sitting in this mall cafe, no one would know what I’ve been through. No one knows what anyone’s been through.
It’s what started my journey to help others. I got my certificate in Health and Wellbeing from UCol in Whanganui in 2018. It led me to my sweetheart. In the future I want to work for victim support. I can make a difference there.
You see, mental health is like embroidery. The side of ourselves we show others can be beautiful, a masterpiece woven for the pleasure of others. It’s neat. Curated. Underneath it’s chaos.
As a child, a young wife and a mother, many men have abused me on every level.
I never talked about it. I wanted to move past it, but when I pushed it down it didn’t go anywhere, and neither did I.
I was married at 18, but I’ve never been engaged. We tried to make it work. It didn’t. Nothing but pain came from that relationship. Pain for me. Pain for my children. The abuse inflicted upon us was monstrous.
Living in Taranaki, I knew we had to get out, so I fled with them to Palmerston North. It didn’t help. The threats continued until it was settled through the courts and I was able to get a divorce.
I was seen as a bad mother. From the outside, it looked like I slept all day. A wasted person who didn’t take her kids to school. It was like I forgot about them, choosing to fall into myself rather than make a loving nest.
They only knew what they saw. They didn’t see me struggling to stay awake when I stood guard between their bedrooms, only going to bed as they got up for school. I knew they’d be safe at school.
For years, every night I protected them.
Still, they were right. I did fall into myself. But I did the best I could with the strength I had left.
I was living to survive, I wasn’t living to enjoy my kids. My brain just couldn’t take on any more. I became very cold. I had no feelings. Bringing up my kids was just something I had to do.
It was the mental breakdown that made me realise I had to stop. I wasn’t doing them any favours. Others cared for the kids as I finally started to get myself together - but you can’t do that until you realise the picture you tried to pull together doesn’t exist and face reality.
That’s when I made the cut, in the early 2000s. I knew I had to get real and get vulnerable. I worked on me, sorted myself out, saw a counsellor and started my path to recovery.
Church was my saving grace. That and my relationship with God is my whole foundation for my healing and my recovery.
I’m on the supported living benefit now because I have osteoarthritis throughout the whole of my body. I used to work in aged care, and I have all of my qualifications to work, but when my hands packed up it would have killed them if I dropped any of them. I had to sacrifice my financial security for their safety.
I used to wear really scruffy clothes. I still won’t wear a skirt. It got to a point where I got so frumpy I wasn’t honouring myself. It isn’t about being attractive to other people, it’s about loving yourself.
That’s where I’m passionate. Women need to have their voices back and have their power back because it’s been taken from them. You’ve got to acknowledge that it’s affected your life, the way that you see yourself. You have to acknowledge the pain, the scaring. You’ve got to get real with yourself and then the healing comes up.
Three years ago on placement for my certificate I found my prince. He’s kind and patient. He listens. I can trust him. It’s been years since I’ve been able to trust anyone.
I've only told him and my pastor the full story of what happened to us. They’ve been my rocks as the ups and downs of my trauma destabilised my life.
I never, ever thought I could find this kind of love in my lifetime. He supports me in every decision I make, and I’ve never had that before.
Something that’s tried to destroy me and has tried to break every part of me, I’ve found that inner strength to survive it.
My hair now sits on my shoulders with a headband showing my eyes off to the world. I wear it with pride. I wear it long for me and for him. We like it, even if it is a bit hot.
As told to Maxine Jacobs for ‘Aotearoa in 20’, a Stuff project.
Where to get help for domestic violence
Women’s Refuge 0800 733 843 (females only)
Shine Free call 0508 744 633 between 9am and 11pm (for men and women)
1737, Need to talk? Free call or text 1737 to talk to a trained counsellor.
If you or someone else is in immediate danger call 111.
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