Urban Couture Photography believes in amazing causes. This is why we are apart of the Hope For Healing Event being hosted in October 2010. A good friend of mine is the mastermind behind this wonderful event. She is so strong and this is all going to be donated towards the YWCA. This is the place I did my counselling to get over my traumas and pains. I urge you to click on the link attached and buy tickets for this event. Read my personal survivor story below
“I Never Had That” by Jennifer Lee Ollinger (Photographer), Calgary, AB
From the earliest age I can remember I have been a fighter.
At 5 years old my mom met the man who she saw as this angel coming in to direct her life. I saw something different. He came around late at night, drunk, high and ready to pull someone down to his level.
I can clearly remember peeking through the crack of my bedroom door to see what was going on and what I saw no child should see. My mom was being thrown around like a ragdoll, like the way you throw your doll when she doesnt do what you want her to. I remember the taste of my tears running down my cheeks because she was MY mom, the one who took care of me and he was hurting her.
As each day passed, I grew stronger and realized what he did isnt something you do to someone you love. I rejected his “hellos” and his attempts to bond with me. One day I came home and my mom had packed up our entire house into a white van. She told me we were going somewhere better than this place and we were going to be so happy. I called that white van home for the next 3 months. We drove all the way into Okanogan. We found a little apartment and I thought for once, she may be right.
At age 6, I woke myself up, tried to find something to eat and walked myself to school. I made excuses as to why I didnt have lunches and why my mom was absent. I walked myself home each afternoon wishing I was anywhere but there.
I distinctly remember waking up one night to hear screaming. Someone had broken down our front door! He found us and was in one of his rages. I distinctly remember the shrill shatter of 20 wine glasses hanging from under our upper counters shatter against my mothers head. She blacked out and that was it! I ran after him and hit him with everything my little body had. It wasnt enough; he threw me against the wall and I too blacked out. When I woke up I was in the same spot I was in before I passed out. There was a banging in the stairwell next to us. I got up and staggered to the door to see him dragging my mother down the stairs by her hair. I screamed and yelled and no one came out of their units. I cried and ran down the hall… no one listened. There was silence for a long time and I feared the worst… I ran to my room and cried and cried thinking I was next.
What happened next I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I was hiding in my closet, he found me and I screamed and passed out.
The next day I found my mom on our floor, black and blue and cut open everywhere. I held her and cried, realizing I needed to do something. I remembered my grandparents number and they were so glad they finally knew where I was and that I was ok. I told them what happened to my mom and they wired us money to get bus tickets to come back to Calgary.
I have never looked back thinking, “what if”. I know everything happens to make us grow, make us think, make us learn and live and realize what we are capable of handling.
I never knew how to let go until I realized one day it doesnt define who I am or what I will become. It defines my strength and courage and will to help change the world.
My lifelong journey is to create the happy memories I never had. To capture those little moments in time that, to everyone, seems like an everyday occurrence; but to someone who was in rock bottom means honestly the whole world.
I will create strength, courage and passion with my pain.
I will remember.
“I Never Had That” by Jennifer Lee Ollinger (Photographer), Calgary, AB
From the earliest age I can remember I have been a fighter.
At 5 years old my mom met the man who she saw as this angel coming in to direct her life. I saw something different. He came around late at night, drunk, high and ready to pull someone down to his level.
I can clearly remember peeking through the crack of my bedroom door to see what was going on and what I saw no child should see. My mom was being thrown around like a ragdoll, like the way you throw your doll when she doesnt do what you want her to. I remember the taste of my tears running down my cheeks because she was MY mom, the one who took care of me and he was hurting her.
As each day passed, I grew stronger and realized what he did isnt something you do to someone you love. I rejected his “hellos” and his attempts to bond with me. One day I came home and my mom had packed up our entire house into a white van. She told me we were going somewhere better than this place and we were going to be so happy. I called that white van home for the next 3 months. We drove all the way into Okanogan. We found a little apartment and I thought for once, she may be right.
At age 6, I woke myself up, tried to find something to eat and walked myself to school. I made excuses as to why I didnt have lunches and why my mom was absent. I walked myself home each afternoon wishing I was anywhere but there.
I distinctly remember waking up one night to hear screaming. Someone had broken down our front door! He found us and was in one of his rages. I distinctly remember the shrill shatter of 20 wine glasses hanging from under our upper counters shatter against my mothers head. She blacked out and that was it! I ran after him and hit him with everything my little body had. It wasnt enough; he threw me against the wall and I too blacked out. When I woke up I was in the same spot I was in before I passed out. There was a banging in the stairwell next to us. I got up and staggered to the door to see him dragging my mother down the stairs by her hair. I screamed and yelled and no one came out of their units. I cried and ran down the hall… no one listened. There was silence for a long time and I feared the worst… I ran to my room and cried and cried thinking I was next.
What happened next I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I was hiding in my closet, he found me and I screamed and passed out.
The next day I found my mom on our floor, black and blue and cut open everywhere. I held her and cried, realizing I needed to do something. I remembered my grandparents number and they were so glad they finally knew where I was and that I was ok. I told them what happened to my mom and they wired us money to get bus tickets to come back to Calgary.
I have never looked back thinking, “what if”. I know everything happens to make us grow, make us think, make us learn and live and realize what we are capable of handling.
I never knew how to let go until I realized one day it doesnt define who I am or what I will become. It defines my strength and courage and will to help change the world.
My lifelong journey is to create the happy memories I never had. To capture those little moments in time that, to everyone, seems like an everyday occurrence; but to someone who was in rock bottom means honestly the whole world.
I will create strength, courage and passion with my pain.
I will remember.
