Let's Talk About It

I just attended a domestic violence conference and between the heart-wrenching statistics shared there and the media storm that accompanied all of the young girls who tweeted they would allow Chris Brown to beat them following his appearance on the Grammy's, I feel compelled to do something I have very rarely done.

So let's talk about it.

Earlier in my life, I became involved with a guy that I originally thought was pretty damn amazing.  He seemed to be well-liked, had a bit of a bad boy edge, and was definitely into me.  Little did I know what I was actually getting involved in after that first date.

Through a series of events (which we'll save for some future blog), I had begun to think that love somehow involved some version of hurt.  My self-esteem was already floundering when I met this guy, I was at a point in my life where I had just started to come into my own and develop my own identity, and I fell HARD.  Things seemed wonderful at first....but even that didn't last very long.

Over the course of a few months it became increasingly obvious that I was much more considered property than a girlfriend.  I was expected to do things, say things, be things that he wanted, and there was constant ridicule and humiliation if I failed to comply.  At some point, things went from verbal and emotional abuse to physical. I somehow managed to hide the increasing amount of violence from everyone who loved me while still attempting to hold on to this "man".

One of the last violent moments still sticks in my mind as if it is somehow permanently imprinted there, like a horrible nightmare that just keeps replaying over and over.  It was late and I was ready to leave his house, ready to go home for the night.  I had already heard some really not-so-pleasant things about me, my body, and, without going into graphic details, my ways of doing things.  When I vocalized that I was heading home, the look in his eyes was almost crazed.  I was stripped of my clothing and locked in a room - an effort aimed at imparting humiliation and degradation but also at making it very clear who was actually in charge.  Again, no graphic details here, but it was a very long night.  When I finally arrived home I looked as if I had just been hit by a bus - I was covered in ash and Jack Daniels and could see the beginnings of more than just a few bruises.

Something in me came alive when I looked in the mirror that day.  I knew that if my parents had seen me (or smelled for that matter) that morning I would be in serious trouble.  More than anything, though, I knew I would see the concern in their eyes.  It's then that the voice in my head finally spoke up to support me - saying that there was no way I could continue on this path.

I made the decision to get out, made my plan, and eventually packed up and moved to California.  But the violence didn't end there.  He attacked me via all forms of social networking (at that time it was email and instant messenger - thank goodness Twitter and Facebook didn't exist, who knows how horrible that could have been) and flew out to California.  I became a statistic (it takes, on average, 7 attempts to leave an abusive situation), but when I refused to do the things he wanted me to do because the voice in my head was getting stronger, he attacked me verbally, told me I was never going to be wife-material, and packed up and left.  I never spoke to him again.

Let me be perfectly clear here - just because I walked away from an abusive relationship doesn't mean I am any better than those who choose to stay.  What it does mean is that one day I realized that I couldn't do it anymore, that I couldn't be that person any longer.  I do not look at women who choose to stay and blame them.  I WAS them.  For a long time.  It took a very long time to be able to look at myself in the mirror, to believe that the person staring back at me was not the person he convinced me I was.  I still have those moments today, more than 10 years later.  I understand the pain and heartbreak associated with an abusive relationship, both being in one and leaving one.  I understand the toll that takes on you and your life for years. I hope that if you are reading this and identifying with the situation, that you are not judged but supported by those who really love you.

So what needs to be done? What we need is not only to teach our girls that they are strong, competent, and that no man is ever going to be worth that, but also to teach our boys that violence is NEVER EVER okay.  I am not property, you are not my master, and the belief systems that encourage that way of thinking need to disappear.  We'll be able to do that when we start speaking up, loudly, and putting a face and a name to the violence.

You now have mine.

May all of you be treated with dignity, respect and love - today and always.