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Beating Abuse: Kathy Collins on Abuse
Boxing, Four-time world champion, first woman to win a professional bout in Madison Square Garden
I grew up in a tough neighborhood Down South. As a kid, I got into a lot of fights. It was a way to survive. I was athletic and played lots of sports – basketball, swimming, track –but I was more of a troublemaker at school than anything else. By the time I was 13, I was already smoking, skipping classes. I didn't think that the rules applied to me. I believed I was bad, so I acted that way. And as I grew older, I drank too much, smoked two packs of cigarettes a day and ended up weighing 240 pounds.
One day I decided to start taking care of myself. So I looked for something that could be fun AND help change my life. I turned to boxing. It was a way to feel better, let out frustrations and get into amazing shape. I lost 100 pounds, stopped smoking, stopped drinking and started eating right. What d’ya know? I had the talent to become a great boxer.
The movie "Rocky" was a big reason I got into boxing. He fought and he survived – just like me. But there was something else that led me to boxing. I was beat up a lot as a kid. I was physically, mentally and sexually abused by my parents. I was constantly told that I was no good. I felt powerless and angry for most of my childhood. I didn't understand that this was not normal. I had never known any other way. After all, these were my parents.
Everything changed one day at school. I had gotten into trouble, again. The school counselor, Mr. Wright, called me in. He told me that he was going to call my parents. I just broke down, right there in his office — out of fear of what my parents would do to me. Mr. Wright had never seen me like that. He kept asking what was wrong. I finally told him.
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One day I decided to start taking care of myself.
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It was like letting the floodgates open. I had never told anyone about any of this; I didn’t think that they would believe me. Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. And the whole time, I was sobbing. Mr. Wright kept assuring me that he would help. I was relieved and scared at the same time. As much as I hated them, I didn’t want anything bad to happen –they were still my family. But I had taken that first step, talking to someone; and now things were going to change, to protect me and my sisters.
My stepfather went to prison for a while for the sexual abuse. My sisters and I were in foster care for a time. When we were re-united, we had three years of family counseling. I learned that none of it was my fault. I learned how to ask for help – that it didn’t make me weaker, but stronger. I learned that I can survive. All it took was that first difficult step —opening up to someone.
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