By Rebecca Lomax, Ph.D.
We sat in my living room and talked, and I
thought about how many times I had talked to Local Personalities
who sat in exactly the spot she had chosen. But I won’t use her
name, and I didn’t take her photograph. She told me that he has
followed her half way around the world, he telephones and emails
constantly when she’s away from him, he tells her how much he
loves her. And when she’s away, she remembers how sweet he can
be, how considerate, how loving.
But this isn’t a story about true love. This is a story about
violence, about confusion and fear and ambivalence. This is a
story about living in hell, and it isn’t over. She wants to tell
you about it, and she wants to be whole. Hope with me that she
will be.
She has lived in America, Europe, Australia and Asia. Her
father’s job took the family all over the world. Some of her
childhood memories are good, some not, as is the case with many.
But unlike many people’s childhood memories, hers include
domestic violence. As a small child, she witnessed her father
hit her mother on more than one occasion. And he had witnessed
his father intimidate and abuse his own mother. Domestic
violence gives birth to domestic violence. She remembers being
afraid. She was only five when her parents divorced. The
violence in her home ended, but the damage had already been
done.
She did well in school, had many international friends, enjoyed
extracurricular activities and sports. She had boyfriends, but
no serious relationships. She went off to the university,
graduated and got a good job. And then she met him. Like her, he
had grown up internationally. Like her, he had witnessed
violence in his own family. He was also educated and had a good
job. They understood each other; they had a lot of friends. They
moved in together and life was good for a while.
He didn’t like one of her friends, and then soon he didn’t like
any of them. He didn’t want her to see them at all. The first
time he hit her she had gone out to dinner with friends from the
university, all young women. He was waiting when she returned
home. She woke up the next day with bruises on her arms and back
where he had hit her with his fists and kicked her when she
curled into a ball to protect her head. He was remorseful,
crying until she comforted him. He promised it would never
happen again, but explained that he was so worried when she
stayed out late that she made him lose control. She was
confused. Did she cause his behavior?
But he had crossed the line, and physical violence would become
a way of life for them. She did not understand that domestic
violence follows a typical pattern no matter when or where it
occurs or who is involved. The cycle repeats itself, and each
time it does, the level of violence may increase. And at every
stage the abuser is fully in control of himself. Domestic
violence is not simply the result of somebody becoming so angry
that they lose control. It is how the abuser controls and
isolates the abused. She did not understand that he expressed
remorse to excuse himself for his behavior and focus the blame
on her. But he was always willing to forgive her, court her
again and remind her of how thoughtful and charming he really
was. Sometimes, when violence happened she felt that he had set
her up. He probably had.
Months passed. She tried so hard to please him, but the violence
escalated. She was slapped, punched, and kicked. He twisted her
arms behind her back, he threw her against walls, and he locked
her up in the bedroom for three days without a telephone, food
or water. He knew just where to hit her so that the injuries
didn’t show, and nobody at work suspected a thing. Through it
all she never reported the abuse to the police, never told a
co-worker or friend, never mentioned it to her family. She was
ashamed. Then he pushed her down the stairs, and she realized
that she could have died. She left, but came back to more abuse,
left again, and returned. Finally, she told an aunt, and the
aunt offered her shelter, and talked her into seeing a
therapist.
A few weeks have gone by, and she has read the literature. She
understands the patterns and progression of violence. She knows
that her abuser is not remorseful. She knows that she did not
cause the abuse. She knows that he will not change without
intervention. She knows all of this in her head, but in her
heart she misses him. She misses the tender and romantic man he
could be. She reads his email messages. She dreams that he has
really, truly changed this time. Her ambivalence is frightening.
A long time ago, I knew a woman whose husband killed her. I saw
the crime scene photos and read the autopsy report. Her hands
had been raised in front of her face to protect herself from the
gun. The coroner called the injuries “defensive wounds”. Her
husband said he didn’t like her cooking. She died in front of
her two small children. She was an educated woman with job
skills. No drugs or alcohol were involved in her murder.
Domestic violence occurs to men as well as women. It happens in
all cultures, across geographical boundaries, in all
socioeconomic groups. Old people as well as children can be
victims. But they, and the woman I interviewed, can also be
survivors. With physical protection from their abusers, and
psychological treatment for their wounded souls, they can emerge
strong and victorious. And they can stop the vicious cycle of
violence once and for all before it infects another generation.
http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/ovc/help/dv.htm.