I wasn’t going to share this, was going to write it in my personal journal and be through with it. This is something that I’ve been struggling with sharing for quite some time now. A lot of factors come into play for my reasoning. I am naturally a private person, add that onto the fact that I hate being embarrassed and I hate drama. I waited until the very end of the month to reach out to a good friend and fellow writer (Jessica Kincy, you can find her at jessicakincy.com…shameless plug) for some advice on the matter. One thing that she said that stood out was:
“I had to realize that me sharing my story in hopes that it helps someone else was more important than ‘protecting’ someone who knew better in the first place”
She was completely right.
I never looked at what was happening to me as “domestic abuse”, I looked at it as a fight, a good rumble between all 125lbs of me vs 200+ lbs of him. I honestly looked at it as fair fighting, I’m sure my adrenaline had me completely out of my mind, because I can’t believe I felt that way…I can’t believe I stayed…I can’t believe I forgave him everytime…I can’t believe I didn’t “blame” him…and finally I can’t believe this is the first time I am actually opening up about this.
There were 3 instances that warranted me walking away.
- The tussle over the phone that left my knuckles scraped and me on the garage floor with a knee in my chest. I stayed.
- The time I kicked a pair of his shoes and he walked right up to me and slapped me across the face. I left that time, but I came back
- Halloween night. On the way from a party, I was dressed as a fairy. He pushed my head into the car window (as we were driving, it didn’t break) so that he could see who I’d been calling on my phone, and as we were speeding down the highway he pulled his gun from underneath his seat and pointed it dead at me. I spent the night.
It took me awhile to walk away, even after those things. Somehow I felt like I was winning, or that I made him a crazy person with my antics, or I got a few good licks in so it came out as a draw. None of these things were true, true we were a toxic mix, he was hot headed and I tried to match whatever he was so I became hot headed too. *cue explosions* Even when I decided to move on, I’d get threats of “I better not catch yall out” randomly in my inbox.
We’ve since moved on, I don’t wish anything bad on him, I don’t even see him as a bad person and by telling this story it isn’t even about him at all. Most people have no idea about this, maybe just one that I’ve confided in but no one else. I never felt the need to tell it or felt the severity of the situation at that time. I didn’t come out with black eyes, broken nose, busted lips, none of the above, but I did come out scarred and to deny that is unfair to my healing. One of the scariest things to do is leave an abusive relationship and statistics show that 50 to 75% of domestic violence homicides happen at the point of separation. I know that leaving isn’t simple, I know that it takes the courage of 1,000 men to say enough, but you can do it. Even if you start out just by letting someone close to you know what is going on. No one should have to endure violence at the hands of someone who claims to love them. No one. I truly hope someone reads this and finds some sort of solace in it, I hope you build up the courage to do what is right for you.
October is coming to an end, and it was domestic violence awareness month. For those of you who are getting abused, tell someone. For those of you who they are confiding in, don’t just ask “why won’t you leave?” Try to understand and find solutions to help them, if leaving were as simple as answering a question I think they would have done so by now.
Until next time..