Recently a popular DJ has been jailed twice for abusive behaviour; I am not sure if it’s the same woman in both cases, but my question is why date a guy who is a known abuser? Most people say these women are in it for the perks of being around all the hype and in this particular case I must say I do agree. But what about those women who are abused by love?
Ten years ago I left a relationship that left me bruised emotionally, financially, mentally and physically. I remember growing up and hearing about battered women I use to say it could never happen to me. Yep, not me and if it did I would fight back and would have him jailed and it couldn’t happen a second time; well it happened a second and third time. I dated this guy for five years and I was so in love. He use to be a good friend of mine before we got involved and I knew he was a womanizer; but stupid me thought because I was such a sweetheart, he would change just for me. I learnt my lesson the hard way.
For the five years we were together I got cheated on so much I had to wonder did I really have a relationship with him. But each time I forgave him and moved on till the next woman came around; then the worst thing was he chose women who flaunted it in my face and verbally abused me; sometimes I felt like I was watching a movie and it wasn’t really my life. At that time this guy wasn’t even adding any value to my life, not even financially; I kept giving and giving in every way, not realizing I was losing me in the process. It was all about him and I was nowhere in the equation; until one day I woke up from my dream.
One day I had had enough. I no longer called to find out where he was and if he was coming home; I no longer cried in front of him and asked him why he treated me this way (I cried when he wasn’t around). I started going out every Friday night with my girlfriends; I started learning to play tennis and learn to swim; I just started living again and stopped making him the centre of my world and that my friends was when the abuse became physical. How dare I not run behind him like I use to; how dare me turn my phone off or not answer when he called; how dare me go out and stay late.
One night I came home late and got the first fist, straight to my right eye. I had bent over to give my puppy the remnants of my lunch and half way up the coward socked me in my eye; one nasty upper cut landing me on my back flat out. Now I had bad sinus issues back then that would sometimes take away my voice and on that particular night it was bad, so I couldn’t even scream, no sounds would come, so I just laid there. He had been lay waiting me and now, he took my handbag, grabbed my cell phone, kicked me and told me to go into the house and left with my phone so I couldn’t call for help. After he took off in his van, I laid there for at least ten minutes with my hand over my eye, crying soundlessly, not able to move from the fright that crippled me. Eventually I was able to get up and go inside. I packed up everything he had in the house, put them into a garbage bag and left them outside the next morning when I was leaving for work.
With my swollen black and blue eye, I told my girlfriends at work and my neighbours, just in case he killed me, someone knew, but I was too ashamed to tell my family and I didn’t go to the police. His reasoning was that I was cheating and that’s why I wasn’t calling him and wasn’t answering my phone and had started going out every Friday night. Anyways he called and begged, asked his family to beg and of course I forgave him. It only got worst; he was now stalking me, he turned up at my job un-announced; turned up at my Friday get together with my friends and was all over me; but something had died in me by then. That uppercut to my eye had killed something inside of me; I no longer wanted to be with him. He hit me twice after that, once with a machete; my machete at that and he threatened to kill me. One night he drove the van on the wrong side of the road into the way of oncoming vehicles and decided that we were both going to die because I couldn’t leave him. Of course he had now asked me to marry him and stupidly I had said yes, but it wasn’t with the excitement a woman feels when she gets engaged, it was out of fear; it was a bittersweet moment. I no longer wanted to marry him, but his family was so excited that I wanted to do it for them. But reality sunk in and I knew I had to go; one night I lay there plotting how to throw hot oil in his ears while he was sleeping and right there I knew I had to leave whether he killed me or not, I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore; so I left.
I thank God everyday that he wasn’t one of those men that was sick enough to carry out his threat of murdering me, because it has happened to other women who leave abusive men; they end up dead. He stalked me for a few months after that, but with the help of his family, I encouraged him to go away and put some distance between us. He stalked me by phone from overseas, but eventually he gave up. The young woman he dated after me, who had a child for him came to me and complained that he was hitting her; eventually they broke up too. I was also told that he hit his fiancée before me. When you look at this man, you would never know that he had an abusive side; he is always laughing and was always calm and friendly, people were shocked when I told them and showed them the bruises.
No matter what anyone says, it’s a sickness; it’s evil and has nothing to do with love. It is about power and control and should not be tolerated. Yes, I know of cases where a man hits a woman once and they live happily ever after and it never happens again; to be honest, I can live with that. Some men are verbally abusive, but usually men who get physical encompass every method of abuse. Some women stay out of fear; some stay for financial reasons and some will find the courage to leave no matter what; I did and I am thankful to God every day.
I learned from my experience that the colour of love is definitely not black and blue.
Looking in, looking forward…
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