Click above to hear "Thunder Rolls"
I have not talked about this before, I am not sure why. Perhaps I feel that since it is over that I can forget it. But, that isn't true. Once you have been a victim of domestic violence, you don't forget. My story is no differrent than a million other women around the world, the only thing that makes it different is it happened to me. I won't use real names and that is not to protect the guilty, rather to save those who mistakenly loved them some dignity.
It started in late 1974, I was a foolish young girl who had already had her share of heartache. I had lost my oldest son in a parental kidnapping in late 1973, I was hurting, confused, lonely, and very gulliable. You would think that after the kidnapping I would have been wise to men, but that goes to show you once again how young and foolish I really was. I met him on September 2, 1974. I remember the day like yesterday, he was tall dark, handsome with the bluest eyes I had ever seen. I was so suprised at the way he took to me and started immediately with the charm. I was flattered. He knew all the right words, all the right moves, and I was caught up instantly. He showered me with gifts, poems, and the sweetest words you can ever hear. He was good to my youngest son, and he said he loved me. I went with him when he left the state, very much against my Mother and Father's wishes. I knew what I was doing, I knew he loved me.
It started gradually, as soon as we were away from my family, and anyone I knew. Just little things, like suggesting that I should lose weight,(I weighed all of 121 lbs on a 5'4'' frame). From there it went to making sarcastic remarks about my cooking, my hair, my clothes, anything tht he could think of. I remember very well the first time he hit me, it was a Saturday morning about a month or so after we arrived in Georgia. I was fixing breakfast for my youngest son and he came into the kitchen, "Where's the coffee?" he said. I told him that I would make some in just a minute, let me finish the breakfast for my son. I turned back to the stove and like a hot flash of heat I felt my head hit the kitchen counter. He had grabbed me by my hair and had slammed my face into the countertop. "I said I want coffee, and I want it NOW!" Of course I was in shock, what was wrong what had I done( key phrase for DV("what have I done")? He immediately said I am so sorry I don't know what is wrong with me, he kissed away my tears and fears and left. When he returned, he had flowers and a box of candy. I forgave him. And so the pattern developed. It would be another four years of daily torture. I have had my ribs broken, been choked, kicked, hair pulled out by the roots, burned with cigarettes.
And then weeks of the most wonderful loving man and Father you ever knew. I know there are people out there reading this now, saying, "I would not put up with that for a minute!" and I agree, NO one should have too. I can't make excuses for my staying, only I know the answers to that; and they are still after all these years cloudy. I know that he had convinced me that I was ugly, stupid, fat, and I should be GLAD that he put up with me. I know that he had taken a young, helpless, scared girl who had already lost one of the most valuable things in life (my oldest child), and I let him nearly take me and my youngest too. I would have stayed I guess until he killed me, had it not been for him making the mistake of hitting my child. I lost it. I knew if I stayed he would kill me and he told me if I left he would kill me, so what was the difference. I was dead either way. I decided to call his bluff. I called my brother and told him I needed to come home NOW. He never questioned me, he sent the money and I went home (thanks--you know which one you are). I managed to stay away from him for about a month, and yes I know, I went back. He had gone to counseling and had made me the promise that he would continue and he had stopped drinking. A big part of his problem. I went back and very shortly afterwards we moved back to my home state.
Nothing changed, except now I had to make excuses for the hot checks he wrote, his behavior at family gatherings (showing up drunk). I never told any of my family, I was too ashamed. That is another tool just like child Molesters they use, they make you feel responsible for their behavior. If I just wouldn't make him mad, he wouldn't hit me. He got smart after we got home, he quit doing anything that would leave visable scars. He now hit me in the stomach, never the face or body that would show. He now used sex to humiliate me. He now used threats to hurt my family. I was lost. I knew my life was as it would always be HELL.
I can't tell you the exact moment that it happened, it was a gradual thing just like the start of the DV, I started to stand up to him. I started to make friends, I got a job. Maybe, knowing that my family was close gave me courage I don't know. Or maybe it was someone who said to me the one time I confided in another person. Her words stung me and yet catapulted me into action. A girl I was working with when I told her, she looked at me and said so sadly "I never would have dreamed it, you seem so strong, and I admire you so much. You have the best personality of anyone I have ever known. You are smart, pretty and so much better than this! Why are you not your OWN BEST FRIEND"? I went home and I looked at myself for a long time in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time, I saw a young, attractive, smart girl who was going to DIE! I told him at the end of a 357 Magnum that I borrowed from a FRIEND. "You have about one hour to pack what you want, because when you walk out that door you will NOT be back! And if you are; you will leave this time in a body bag!!!" And I felt it, I meant IT...It felt GOOD to see him fearful of me for a change, I am not saying that this is the way for anyone else to solve their DV situation. I was lucky, he was in truth a COWARD and once I stood up to him and he knew I would kill him, he left...just like that. The next day he was gone...I have never laid eyes on him since. When I went for my divorce I found out he had never divorced his first wife, and so ours was annulled. That was in October of 1981.
I have to end this by saying that God sent me my Husband (now) in February of 1982 and we have been together ever since. I have never had to fear him for one moment, he tells me daily how smart I am, how beautiful (I can't see that one *S*), and he never fails to give me confidence in all I undertake, I love you J.
Please if you know someone or you are someone who is the victim of DV please please get help. I was one of the lucky ones. I have a few visible scars and a few emotinal ones, but I am ALIVE...GET HELP!! Please your life depends on it...
