Shortly after divorcing my ex-husband, a dear friend, who is an African Missionary Priest, once asked me who I pray to.

"The Holy Mother," I responded, before clarifying, "The Virgin Mary." Then I joked about the speed with which I could spew out as many "Hail Mary" prayers as necessary, at any given time—Catholic humor only sinners could understand.

"Interesting," my friend responded. Then he proceeded to explain how my trust in the Holy Mother was likely developed from the lifelong trauma I've endured at the hands of men.

I'd never thought about that before. But he was right. I never felt inclined to pray to or honor God, Jesus, or any male Saints beyond St. Michael the Archangel, to whom I prayed for protection from abuse for many years.

I always prayed to the Virgin Mary, hoping she would use her influence with the powers that be to intercede on my behalf—the same as I had appealed to my mother to intercede and protect me from the physical and emotional harm each of her live-in boyfriends had inflicted upon me.

My mother never defended me, though. Instead, she married that second boyfriend, leaving me to fend for myself against his verbal and physical assaults from the age of 7 onward.

For many of those years, I prayed to the Holy Mother and wished on shooting stars, for my real dad to come and save me from that wretched home life. He never did; and, according to my mother, it was because he was a drunk and a drug addict who couldn't be bothered with a child.

Reflecting on how my alcoholic grandfather left me in a bar when I was three years old, to leave with yet another woman he shouldn't have been intimate with out of respect to my grandma, I just presumed all men thought women to be unworthy of better—better treatment, better protection, more security, more consideration . . .

"That's just how men are," I'd repeatedly heard as a child.

That belief that primed me for the twenty-five-year-long relationship I endured with my abusive ex-husband (who happened to remind me very much of my narcissistic stepfather), because it excused every incidence of entitlement, infidelity, mistreatment, irresponsibility, carelessness, and inconsideration, and the abuses I endured as a result of standing up for myself against it all.

But not all men are "that way."

I recently found myself in two professional situations wherein my current husband's presence was questioned because some of the women present would potentially not be comfortable with any man in their realm.

Although I understand, I pointed out the benefit of having my husband present.

Women who have not had a good history with men need to be in safe and controlled environments where they can witness a man speak to a woman respectfully, open doors to ensure a woman's safe passage, and exemplify trustworthiness and security in a way that opposes their previous experiences with men.

My son hadn't witnessed any man treat me well prior to our move into my husband's home. I have seen first-hand how beneficial it has been for my son to see a proper role model of a man in a romantic relationship, and am grateful that he has this exposure to replicate in his own relationship with his girlfriend.

💗Because some men treat the people they love with care and consideration.

💗Some men are gentle and kind.

💗Some men are able to put aside their egos to protect and keep their partners and children safe.

💗Some men don't hurt the people they claim to love.

We just need to understand that every man does not embody every statistic, every stereotype, and every standard; and not every man is who others say they are, either.

As it turned out, my biological father was not the drunk and drug addict my mother claimed him to be, nor did he neglect my existence. According to my grandmas, my father visited me often until I was almost 2 years old, when my mother decided that she didn't want him to. He went on to serve in the U.S. Marines and then the Chicago Police Department, from which he is recently retired.

Having met him when I was 16 years old, I can honestly say that I've never seen nor heard of him drinking alcohol nor engaging in recreational drugs. Yeah, he smokes. But he also walks me to my car after visits. He messages me regularly. He was also the only parent I had during the incidences of domestic violence after my divorce and the police and court dealings to get an order of protection afterward.

Just goes to show that not all men are bad. They're just human.

Which is exactly why this isn't a male versus female issues or vice versa. This is a personal issue of discernment.

When we build the self-trust and discernment necessary to move through life more confidently and assuredly, we can decide for ourselves who people are to us based on what they show us as individuals.

💻For more information about how to build self-trust, confidence, and discernment in decisions about people and relationships, take the Power Shift Diagnostic QUIZ.

📚Then, check out my second memoir, CHOKING ON SHAME: THE SCAPEGOAT CHILD IN A NARCISSISTIC FAMILY, available on Amazon, Kindle, and Audible.