I don’t recall why he did it. I do recall being on the floor, crumpled like a rag doll. No warning, just a punch so hard that it knocked me down.
I would have run the moment he told me I needed to sleep with my bra on if I’d known anything about how controlling boyfriends or husbands escalate their behavior into violence. I complied. His demand was connected to my living with a male, even though the male was my older half-brother. I thought it showed how much he cared. I was 15 and falling in love for the first time. I would do anything to please him.
I’d experienced being hit before, but this was different. This time, it was someone other than my older half-brother. Something awakened inside me. Before I got off the floor or said a word, a resolve solidified. I never had a voice with my brother. At seven years older than me and six-foot-five-and-a-half, he was too big, and any resistance meant something worse. I learned silence. But the idea someone else would also hurt me was too much and I wouldn’t be silent.
I pulled myself off the floor and faced my boyfriend, who wasn’t much taller than me. “If you ever touch me again, we’re through,” I said, my voice harder than a rock and my eyes narrowed.
Back then, and for quite some time after, I felt proud for standing up for myself. But today, as I write this, I want to insist my 15-year-old self say, “We’re through. Get the hell out of my house and life.” Instead, I offered him an opportunity to do it again. I was lucky he didn’t, but we can’t count on luck when it comes to violence.
We stayed together another two years, and he never threatened me again.
It could have gone the other way, as it often does with too many abused women. He could have become more controlling and escalated the pain he inflicted. He could have stalked me. He could have taken my life.
Obviously, none of that happened or I wouldn’t be here today writing. It wasn’t because I was wise. It was luck, and he changed.
I’m writing about this incident for anyone who thinks it’s okay to stay after the first hit because their boyfriend, husband, or partner apologized and swore they’d never do it again. Every male who hits a woman says this. But the first hit is the gateway to the next and the next and on and on.
Why do women stay? It’s due to training. Well before the first punch, they’re gaslighted into believing some lie or lies about themselves. The first set-up comes from society and parents who taught them girls should acquiesce to males and be good girls. Later, it’s when their boyfriend or husband says, you’re stupid, no one else would want you, no one will ever love you as much as I do. Often, their abuser isolates them from their friends and family, and they feel there’s no one they can call for help. Shame keeps them silent.
In a way, staying becomes part of an addiction. Variable rewards make it harder to leave or quit, because it’s too easy to believe the reward is close. When the hitting stops and they’re nice again, we forget and believe they’re the wonderful person we’re now with, and that they’ll never hurt us again. When it happens again, it comes as a surprise. At least for a while, until it occurs so often, we can no longer fool ourselves that it will never happen again.
Leaving an abuser is the most dangerous time for a woman. That’s why she needs a plan and people who will help. There are wonderful organizations throughout the country ready to do just that. Domestic violence resources by state
When I spoke at a safe house for abused women, I met strong, courageous women as befuddled as anyone else as to why they had stayed when they should have left. Away from their abuser, they had perspective as they learned to love themselves again while showing their children what it means to be resilient and no longer a victim.
Love shouldn’t hurt. Love doesn’t hurt. Love never threatens. Love never hits. Words mean nothing, while actions mean everything.
The first time someone denigrates or makes you uncomfortable through their words or physical actions, pay attention. Don’t pretend it’s an aberration when they’ve shown you their cruel or manipulative side.
I used to make excuses when someone I loved tossed out verbal abuses, small and large. I understood their childhood hurts and was positive that I could love and understand them out of their pain and need to lash out. It took me a long time to realize it’s not my job to fix anyone. It took longer for me to disengage from the need to excuse and repair. Today, I don’t care if someone had a horrid childhood. All I care about is how they treat me. A bad childhood is no excuse for being mean.
I’ve lived a long time and worked hard to free myself from the need to please people who hurt me. I encourage you do the same if you haven’t already.
As always, beautifully, and thoughtfully written!
Such an important message! Thank you