When You Know, You Know

A tribute to Stephanie Land’s unfathomable strength for breaking the cycle of domestic violence and creating a better life for herself and her daughter.

Do we always need to hit rock bottom before climbing out of a ditch? Is it absolutely crucial to fail in order to succeed? Does it always take a shitty situation to realize self-worth?

Netflix’s original series, Maid, truly hit home for me. It’s based on Stephanie Land’s memoir, Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay and a Mother’s Will to Survive, and much of Alex, the main character’s story, is based on what Stephanie went through herself.

The series so accurately depicts every subtle complexity of domestic violence. It accentuates the damage that alcohol addiction can cause. It illustrates a deep love, connection, and codependency between a mother and daughter. It illustrates the difficulty of letting go, even when you know it’s right.

It shows what it’s like to be the primary protector and caregiver one hundred percent of the time, even if pushed around, disrespected, and stomped on.

It spells out what real denial looks like for someone in an abusive relationship who not only doesn’t feel worthy of receiving help but may be terrified of what will happen to them if they get it. Beneath the denial lies a numbness, a sense of helplessness, an almost innocence that stems from either the physical birth of a person or the birth of their abuse.

It shows the narcissistic father who, in theory, “will do anything for you” but in actuality can’t seem to get out of his own way. It focuses on the hardships of homelessness and the harsh, nonsensical, bureaucratic hoops a person needs to jump through to get out of a dangerous situation such as this.

It’s about taking responsibility and gaining the strength to pick yourself up when there is literally no one else to do it for you. It’s about realizing you have a self, an opinion, a voice, and a life that‘s worthy of goodness, happiness, and freedom. It’s also about focusing on positivity and having a sense of faith that everything is going to be good in the end.

When Alex picked herself and her sweet, beautiful daughter up to escape her drunk, abusive, controlling partner, she had no choice but to start from scratch. Dirt poor (he didn’t allow her to have access to funds) and homeless (without anyone reliable to call), she jumped on her first work opportunity — cleaning houses.

He was an alcoholic who, deep down, wanted to be there for her and his daughter. He knew he needed help, and he even went to AA meetings. But when times got stressful, he sunk deeper and deeper into a dangerous rage.

The fear in Alex’s eyes is familiar to anyone who has experienced any form of abuse, whether it be from a spouse, a boss, a co-worker, a neighbor, or anyone else. It’s that specific, fight-or-flight survival mode type of fear you get when you’re driving and you see red flashing lights of a police car pulling you over. Except the difference here is it doesn’t go away after the cop leaves. It’s as if he never leaves. And it’s as if he accuses you of every felony in the book until you’re blue in the face.

Emotions can be extremely complicated. Alex and her abuser did love each other and ultimately, he wanted what was best for her. But most of all, they loved their daughter more than anything and didn’t want to repeat the cycle of dysfunction for her.

What I love the most about this series is how realistic the relationships, emotions, and overall dynamics are. Only someone who’s been in or who’s been exposed to a real-life abusive relationship can understand what it’s like to leave it, with all of its complexities. And this series is an excellent representation of that.

There’s an ironic comparison between Alex’s occupation as a maid and, well, her entire life. She puts her heart and soul into cleaning houses, just as she puts her heart and soul into caring and cleaning up everything else going on. Just as she cleans those nasty toilets until they’re sparkly, she begins to rid herself of the nastiness in her life as well. As she grows in strength throughout the series, she becomes determined to create a life for her and her daughter that sparkles and shines just as bright.

One of my favorite parts of the show is when Alex is in the DV shelter for the second time, and the director shows her the “boutique”. The transformed one-bedroom apartment unit turned color-coded clothing boutique exists for the women who show up with nothing but the shirts on their backs.

Everything is free, of course, but there’s a sweet lady (a fellow resident) who sits behind the counter with the fake cash register on top — an attempt to make the whole thing feel semi-normal. They even put pretend clothing tags with little hearts on each item.

Alex, still in shock from a terrible episode, walks into the store, and the sweet lady says, “Everyone get’s overwhelmed the first time they come in here. Because our circuits are completely fried by what we’ve been through. When I first got here, it took me weeks to remember my favorite color.”

With all of its complexities and entanglement, Maid is about the journey of a woman who attempts (and succeeds) at breaking the cycle of addiction and abuse that can run in families for generations.

When you’ve know, you know. And when you don’t, you simply don’t. When you’ve been through it, you know the hoops you needed to jump through to get out. Emotional and physical hoops. Outsiders who don’t know, say, “But why didn’t you get out sooner?” or “How could you have allowed yourself to get into this situation in the first place?” What they aren’t seeing is that the reasons are usually too deep to tap into without actually experiencing something to get there.

For myself, I noticed a pattern in my relationships. I noticed that I was almost always in an intimate relationship during high school and leading into college. Thank God most of those relationships were great. But there was one that wasn’t.

Little did I know, verbal abuse is real. So very real. It’s damaging to the soul, but it’s also so much more than that. Let’s look at it from the abuser’s perspective. Why do they feel the need to abuse and take control over someone? Did he mean to hurt me? Did he want to hurt me? Was it even about me at all? In my case, I truly don’t think he meant to hurt me, and I truly don’t think it was even about me at all. He would have treated any girlfriend the same way because the things he made me feel bad about were his issues, not mine.

But from the victim’s perspective, why did I allow myself to get into such a horrible and terrifying situation in the first place? How could I let someone treat me that way, talk to me that way, or do those terrible things to me? How could I put up with someone like that? As we said before, these issues are deep and uncomfortable. It takes major vulnerability to get to the root.

It could be that my label as the nurturer and peace-maker in my family since childhood, didn’t allow me to develop a strong sense of self or healthy boundaries. Plain old dysfunction and boundary issues can run in families for generations, and they can be just as damaging as alcoholism, other addiction, and abuse.

These are the questions we need to ask in order to have any chance at healing. A disease can’t be treated properly without a diagnosis, right?

The truth is, for everything I went through, I can now say that I’m grateful for gaining so much insight into myself, my psyche, my soul. With help from friends and other influential people in my life, I was able to pack up and leave that relationship.

Getting out meant so many things. It meant facing the reality and getting out of denial. It meant letting go of somebody I thought I loved, someone I cared for. It meant that I would have to face my loneliness and distress. It meant that I would have a difficult and painful road of discovery ahead of me. Leaving didn’t happen overnight. Especially since not a soul knew about it until it got really bad at the end.

I remember my sister coming out to a club with me and a few friends on Halloween weekend in my Junior year of college after a few attempts at breaking up. She needed to take my phone away from me because I was receiving text after text of harassment.

That was the night he punched a guy twice for *asking* me to dance. That was the night he told me he had cheated on me four times because “I had been with other guys before him, and he needed to catch up”. I remember sitting in the stairwell of my dorm at 3 am crying hysterically, asking myself how the hell did I end up here.

I thought I could help him with his issues. But I finally realized, thank God, that if I had continued to be there for him, I would have been ripped to shreds in the process. My new emerging self-worth (that I gained from going to an amazing support group) told me that I deserved a better life.

Like Alex (and so many others), it took a few attempts, but once I closed that door for good, it felt as if a million other doors opened. Moving on with my life meant discovering God and my soul, getting married to an amazing guy who’s got my back, having three beautiful children, pursuing a fulfilling career, having a supportive community, and so much more.

I accept that actualizing my confidence and self-worth still takes a continuous effort. But there’s a shadow that still follows. I’ve dealt with nightmares and PTSD from that relationship for the past 11 years. “Will it ever go away?” I ask myself. I haven’t written about it, and I haven’t spoken much about it. But as I come up to my 30th birthday, I want to turn over a new leaf.

When I look at all of the self-exploration and goodness that has come ever since, I am grateful. I believe that I needed that experience in order to heal my soul. I needed the diagnosis of ‘lack of self-worth’ in order to gain a stronger sense of self-respect. And I know that my self-love and self-care will continue to be tested in future situations, especially as a Mother.

I’m proud of myself for becoming aware. And I’m proud of myself for speaking out about it because so many women and men don’t.

For those who need to hear it: Maybe this series, Stephanie Land’s memoir, Margaret Qualley’s incredible performance in her role as Alex, or this blog post will plant a seed for you. Whether you’re the abuser, the victim, or both, just know that your actions are a reflection of something deeper, and you have the strength inside of you to understand where it’s coming from and break free from it. Never be afraid to get the help you need to do it. Stephanie’s story has not only reminded me to be proud of myself for breaking the cycle, but it gives me a sense of pride and responsibility to speak out for those who can’t.

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Did you know…

-Every year, more than 10 million men and women in the U.S. are subjected to domestic violence.

-More than 1 in 3 women (35.6%) and more than 1 in 4 men (28.5%) in the U.S. will experience rape, physical violence, and/or stalking by an intimate partner in their lifetime.

-Intimate partner violence accounts for 15% of all violent crimes.

-Most cases of domestic violence are never reported to the police.