I was involved in a domestic violence relationship for five plus years. If you saw me, you would have thought I had it all together. I wore a smile so bright, I fooled everybody except myself. And for those who knew me personally, they never knew that I was slowly deteriorating on the inside because I laughed all the time and kept the jokes coming. Kelly said it best: “Soaking in this hurt, bathing in the dirt.” Let’s do this dirty laundry!
During the course of the relationship, there was verbal, emotional, mental, psychological, and physical abuse, which resulted in several attacks. Some were worse than others, but the one I will share in detail with you is the last physical attack. This was the attack that made me say, “Alright, Yuna. Enough is enough!” It took place on December 16, 2011, and I thought it was going to end my life. I remember thinking, “This is it for sure,” and my children would not see me alive again. We had stayed up late watching our favorite show at that time, Sons of Anarchy. It was maybe around 3:30 A.M. We were getting ready for bed and I got an email notification on my phone.
As I was checking it, he said, “You better tell that man you at home,” and I laughed.
He said, “Oh, you think it’s funny?”
I replied, “Are you serious?” I went on to say, “Look, I will not walk on eggshells every time my phone rings or makes a noise.” I then said, “It was just a freaking email, man.”
He replied, “Like I said. Tell them you are at home.”
I said, “What man emails women?” I chuckled, saying, “Well, maybe a corporate man. But, hell. I’m with you.”
He said, “You probably got one of them dudes at your job you seeing.”
I said, “Really? I do not say a word when you are on your phone. You pay your own phone bill and so do I. Yes, my mouth is pretty slick.” So, I then said, “Look. I do not worry about your phone, so do not worry about mine.”
At this point, he jumped up yelling and screaming at me. I kept my purse, phone, and keys right beside my bed. I saw he was getting angrier, so I was going to just leave to avoid a physical fight. Well, that was definitely a wrong move because, at that moment, he hit me so hard I fell down. He took my purse, phone, and keys. He dumped the items in my purse all out on the floor looking for phone numbers, he said. Then he asked me to unlock my phone. I refused so, at that point, he began striking me over the head, neck, and back with an iron. He choked, punched, slapped, kicked, and even spit on me. The whole time, which felt like forever, I was trying to just protect my face. He asked me again to unlock my phone and again I refused. He shoved me to the floor and starting kicking me. One tear began to fall down my face as I was looking up at him from the floor. I could hear just as clear as day my grandmother saying to me, “You keep your feet on the darn floor. You do not even kick a darn dog,” as he was kicking me. At that moment I said, “Lord, I promise if you let me make it out this time I will leave.”
He still had my purse, phone, and car keys. He would not allow me to leave. He sat looking at me laughing about what he had just done. He was asking things like, “You think you’re so tough, huh? He asked why I wouldn’t unlock my phone if I had nothing to hide.
I replied, “It’s mine. You can’t control me by hitting me.”
He pushed me in front of the bathroom mirror and said, “Look at what you look like.”
I said to him, “You have done everything you could to break me. Why???”
So, he pushed me and slapped me around some more. I had become so numb I really couldn’t even feel it anymore. He eventually fell asleep as I sat there and argued heavily with God and Satan.
Satan was in one ear saying, “Kill him” and GOD was in the other ear saying, “No, my child,” as I watched him lie there sleeping peacefully. I thought of every time he ever hit me, humiliated me, criticized me, pulled guns on me, isolated me, spit on me, cheated on me, cursed me, rejected me, etc . I was ready to make him pay. I was never afraid of this man.
There were many times that I did fight back, but this night I saw nothing but Satan in his eyes. I did not even recognize him. He was in a state of pure rage. I knew that if I had missed him or made a wrong move period, he would have killed me. And that night I was afraid. I was afraid to die. I had to think about my children who were, luckily, not at home.
It was a Friday night and they were with family. I knew that I was a smart, beautiful, and very intelligent woman; I was too smart to let this man make me throw my whole life away. I would not have been to able to raise my children. So, I did not take his life that night, as bad as I wanted to. I made a better choice instead. I started to pray and ask GOD to help me. “Lord, I need you now!”
My heart was beyond broken and so was I as a woman. I stayed awake until morning. He woke up apologizing and begging me not to leave him as usual. He started to cry telling me how much he needed me. I was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He told me how much he loved me and he could not live without me. I said to him, “I forgive you.” All the while in the back of my mind, I could still hear my grandma talking, and all I could seem to think of was him kicking me repeatedly.
The man hugged me, then he finally began getting dressed. He left for work shortly after being assured by me that we could work it out once again. He gave back my purse, phone, and keys. He left, and as soon as he did, I packed a bag of clothes and headed to my cousin’s house. I didn’t tell anyone what had happened; not even my cousin. I really had to figure my life out for myself at this point, with no advice from friends or family. It had to be just me and GOD.
I struggled emotionally and mentally for a while, as I began picking up the pieces of me. I found myself at the lowest point in my life. I loved him so much. How could he do this to me? This was a question I asked myself more than a million times. How could I be such a fool? Why did I believe he would change? How could this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? I was broken. I have had a life full of pain, but domestic violence pushed me over the edge.