The first time that a man hits a woman who loves him is the most painful smack of them all. After that, it gets a little less painful each time. Then, she begins to see it as more and more acceptable. After a while, it doesn’t seem wrong so much as it seems normal. People wonder why a woman would stay with a man who abuses her...and that’s pretty much why.

I actually remember thinking, after one of Rick’s more violent outbursts, that he must really, really love me or he wouldn’t get so angry. Twisted logic to be sure, but it’s true.

Women who accept abuse will tell you that the phone is one of the first things to go after a man loses his temper. He doesn’t want you to call for help so he rips it out of the wall. You run into closets out of an immediate sense of panic only to realize that you’ve trapped yourself in a place where there is no escape.

Where a normal person would look down at the person lying on the floor of a closet all balled up in the fetal position and feel sympathy, a violent man will look at it as an opportunity to kick a helpless person.

It took quite a bit of time for me to get the mixed up thinking out of my head. I look back at it all now and see it for exactly what it was, a cowardly bully attacking someone who had absolutely no chance of defending themselves. I can do that because I’ve been away from the manipulation long enough to clear my head. But I will never forget the look in his eyes the last time he smacked me in the face...there was a crazed hatred that I didn’t understand. But, at that moment, I realized that this man could have killed me with the back of his hand. At 110 pounds, I was no match for his 6’ 2”, 225 pound frame. There was something evil in my house and it had to go. I did what I should have done years ago, I took out a restraining order and vowed to myself that I would enforce it.

I know that I have written much more about his cheating than I did anything else, but it was the violence that hurt the most. I've dealt with it using hunor and avoidance but if there is one thing that I want to say in this entire blog, it is that there is never, ever, under any circumstances, a rationalization for violence.

That particular pain is something that I haven't discussed too much, it was just so very hurtful to me. I couldn’t understand why the man who told me that he loved me would do that to me. I justified it for a very long time with the twisted logic that only another person going through it would understand. I’m just glad that I had that moment of clarity to enable me to see exactly what was happening. Many women never do. In this country alone, 3 women are killed every single day by the men who purport to love them.

I don’t know what’s in the minds of these men but I do know what’s in the minds of the women who stay for one day too long. They believe the apologies, they believe that the men don’t mean to do it and maybe they don’t. But like a rabid dog, they can’t stop themselves. It’s up to the women to get themselves to a safe place before a push throws their heads into a coffee table and cracks their skull. When Rick threw the table at me as I was running out of the room, I fell into the wall. That could have just as easily have been something a little sharper and a little more dangerous than a flat wall. He had taken two phones from me that day as I tried to call for help and if the first phone hadn’t gotten through to 911 before he ripped it out of the wall, I don’t have a clue what would have happened. Thank God I never had to find out.

I had that little epiphany and I filed for divorce. I honestly don’t know where it came from or why it happened but it did. When I say that I thank God, I mean it with every fiber of my being.

He’s gone and I’m free of him. I have my entire life to look forward to and I pray that it’s a long one. I want to bounce my grandchildren on my lap. I want to travel more. I want to experience a normal relationship, whatever that is. I want to feel safe and I want to die an old woman with my children around me. I want to be happy and I want to be loved. Not with the insane love of a violent man, but with the gentle love of a man who wouldn’t ever lay a hand on me...no matter what the circumstances.

I have dreams and hopes and things that I still want to accomplish. I don’t want to be afraid everyday like I was when I was married to Rick. That fear is now only a sad memory and hope for the future has replaced it.

If you know a woman, or a man, who is living with a violent person, please tell them that you want to see them live to be a ripe old age and have the things that every human being deserves, security in their own homes. Tell them to look at their children and ask themselves if they want to live to see their children’s children, if they want to live to see another day.

This is a pretty good planet and we only get one chance to play on it. We owe it to ourselves and to our children to make it the most exciting, the most delightful, the most amazing life that we can.
Life is, most assuredly, exactly what you make of it.