Salam dalam nama Bapa, Putra, dan Roh Kudus.
Aku tumbuh besar di lingkungan Batak yang sangat patriarkis. Meskipun Ibu juga bekerja, Ibu tetap mengurus urusan domestik dalam rumah tangga tanpa bantuan Bapak sama sekali.
Selain itu, Bapak memiliki temperamen yang buruk. Setiap kali marah, ia sering menggunakan kekerasan. Bapak memukul, menendang, dan menginjak Ibu, serta membanting barang-barang. Aku ingat suatu kali Bapak pernah mencekik Ibu hingga pingsan. Aku dan adikku menangis sambil memanggil Ibu. Puji Tuhan, Ibu selamat.
Ketika mereka bertengkar, aku sering menangis di bawah selimut karena ketakutan. Aku tumbuh menjadi seseorang yang membenci Bapak. Aku bahkan pernah berkata dalam hati bahwa aku akan membunuh Bapak.
Kebencian itu membuatku tidak pernah memandang Bapak sebagai pahlawanku. Aku tidak pernah curhat kepada Bapak, dan nasihatnya pun tidak pernah benar-benar kudengarkan.
KDRT yang terjadi di rumah sangat memengaruhiku ketika kecil. Aku tidak merasa aman berada di sekitar Bapak. Aku menjadi takut ketika mendengar suara orang yang keras atau sedang marah-marah.
Setelah aku kuliah, aku akhirnya bisa merasakan kebebasan dari KDRT di rumah. Namun, kemarahan dan luka akibat KDRT itu ternyata masih tersimpan jauh di dalam diriku. Aku pernah bermimpi bahwa Bapak menyiksa adikku. Aku terbangun dengan tubuh berkeringat sambil berteriak, "Anjing!"
Hingga akhirnya, aku menonton khotbah Rm. Eko Wahyu, OSC. Beliau mengajak kami untuk membayangkan bagaimana perasaan kita jika suatu hari bapak kita meninggal. Jika kita tidak menangis, mungkin ada sesuatu di dalam hati kita yang masih perlu diperbaiki.
Dan aku tidak menangis.
Lebih lanjut, Rm. Eko Wahyu, OSC mengajak kami untuk memeluk bapak kami ketika bertemu dengannya.
Saat itu, aku mulai mencoba untuk mengampuni Bapak.
Suatu hari, aku bermimpi Bapak menyiksaku, tetapi aku tidak bereaksi apa-apa. Aku kemudian bertanya kepada psikologku, "Apakah aku sudah mengampuni Bapak?"
Psikologku menjawab, "Itu mengampuni atau numb?"
Aku tidak tahu.
Namun, ada satu tekad dalam hatiku: aku ingin bertemu Bapak dan memeluknya.
Akhirnya, aku pulang ke rumah. Aku bertemu Bapak.
Aku masih ingat ketika akhirnya berhadapan dengan orang yang dahulu begitu kutakuti. Orang yang pernah membuatku bersembunyi di balik selimut sambil menangis.
Dan sekarang, aku justru berdiri di hadapannya dan memeluknya.
Saat itu, aku tidak merasakan kebencian seperti dahulu. Yang kurasakan justru damai.
Aku belajar bahwa mengampuni bukan berarti mengatakan bahwa kekerasan yang dilakukan Bapak adalah benar. KDRT tetaplah sesuatu yang salah. Mengampuni juga bukan berarti aku harus melupakan apa yang terjadi atau membiarkan kekerasan terjadi kembali.
Bagiku, pengampunan berarti melepaskan kebencian dan keinginan untuk membalas, lalu menyerahkan penghakiman kepada Tuhan.
Aku tidak tahu apakah luka itu akan pernah benar-benar hilang seluruhnya. Tetapi aku tahu bahwa Tuhan membawaku pada sebuah titik di mana aku tidak lagi ingin hidup dikuasai oleh kebencian kepada Bapak.
Aku yang dahulu bahkan pernah berharap Bapak mati, kini justru bisa memeluknya.
Bagiku, itulah salah satu bentuk kasih karunia Tuhan.
Bagi teman-teman yang pernah mengalami kekerasan dalam keluarga, aku ingin mengatakan:
Pengalaman itu bukan salahmu.
Mengampuni tidak berarti membenarkan kekerasan. Mencari pertolongan juga bukan berarti kurang beriman.
Tuhan dapat memulihkan hati yang terluka, meskipun prosesnya tidak selalu singkat.
Notes:
Puji Tuhan, kini bapak sudah bertobat dan tidak kasar lagi. Dan Ibu tetap mempertahankan rumah tangganya
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
I grew up in a very patriarchal Batak environment. Although my mother also worked, she was still responsible for all the household chores without any help from my father.
My father also had a very bad temper. Whenever he became angry, he often resorted to violence. He would hit, kick, and stomp on my mother, and he would throw and smash things around the house. I remember one time when my father choked my mother until she lost consciousness. My younger sibling and I cried out for our mother. Praise God, she survived.
Whenever my parents fought, I would often hide under my blanket and cry because I was terrified. I grew up hating my father. I even once told myself that I would kill him.
Because of that hatred, I never saw my father as my hero. I never opened up to him, and I never really listened to his advice.
The domestic violence I witnessed had a profound impact on me as a child. I did not feel safe around my father. I became afraid whenever I heard someone speaking loudly or angrily.
After I went to college, I finally experienced freedom from the domestic violence at home. However, the anger and wounds caused by the violence remained buried deep within me.
One night, I dreamed that my father was hurting my younger sibling. I woke up sweating and screaming, "You bastard!"
Eventually, I watched a sermon by Fr. Eko Wahyu, OSC. He encouraged us to imagine how we would feel if our father died someday. If we would not cry, perhaps there was something in our hearts that still needed to be healed.
And I did not cry.
Fr. Eko Wahyu, OSC also encouraged us to embrace our fathers when we met them.
At that moment, I began trying to forgive my father.
One day, I dreamed that my father was hurting me, but I did not react at all. I then asked my psychologist, "Have I forgiven my father?"
My psychologist replied, "Is that forgiveness, or are you numb?"
I didn't know.
But I had one determination in my heart: I wanted to meet my father and embrace him.
Eventually, I went home. I met my father.
I still remember standing face to face with the man I had once been so afraid of. The man who had once made me hide under my blanket and cry.
And now, I was standing in front of him and embracing him.
At that moment, I no longer felt the hatred I had felt before. Instead, I felt peace.
I learned that forgiveness does not mean saying that the violence my father committed was right. Domestic violence is still wrong. Forgiveness also does not mean that I have to forget what happened or allow the violence to happen again.
For me, forgiveness means letting go of hatred and the desire for revenge, and entrusting judgment to God.
I do not know whether the wounds will ever completely disappear. But I know that God brought me to a place where I no longer wanted my life to be controlled by hatred toward my father.
I once even wished that my father would die. Now, I am able to embrace him.
To me, that is one of the ways God's grace has worked in my life.
To anyone who has experienced violence within their family, I want to say this:
What happened to you was not your fault.
Forgiving does not mean justifying violence. Seeking help does not mean that you lack faith.
God can heal a wounded heart, even though the process may not always be quick.
Notes:
Praise God, my father has now repented and is no longer abusive. My mother has also chosen to stay in the marriage.
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