Anon :
Anon is from South Africa. She grew up watching her father beat her mother and went on to live in abusive relationships herself, for many years. After finally fighting back against her second husband, she realized she didn’t want the kind of power he had wielded over her. She left him and sought help with substance abuse recovery. Both she and her mother are content to be on their own now, free from abuse.
I never quite understood why my mother stayed, until I stood in her shoes. As a little girl, I always seemed to end up under the table on Thursday nights, crying. Mom would drag me out and say, “you’ll bring bad luck.” On Friday night, the drinking and fighting would happen, and of course I thought it was my fault.
I fell pregnant at 15 years of age. I started using birth control pills after my daughter was born. When my boyfriend found out, he threw them down the toilet and raped me. It didn’t just happen once, but a few times, and I got pregnant again. My marriage ended after 11 years, and I swore not to get involved with an abuser ever again.
My second marriage took place only a couple of months later. At first, it was sheer bliss. Then I started saying things about his drinking habits. On the night of September 11th 2001, I experienced his first violent act. He accused me of having sex with his friend, pushed me down on the bed, and checked my panties. He pushed me into the bathtub.
I must have knocked my head, but the shock made me numb to the pain. It went on and on. He pushed me over the couch and jumped on top of me. And then he pulled me up by my arm and swung me against the wall. I sagged down to the floor and just sat next to
an open door, but I was too scared to get up and run. And I even wondered if it was my fault.
Only a month later, I experienced his second violent act. This time, he added a public dimension by tackling me in front of our gate. I ran inside and he followed me, threw me on the bed, and choked me. Then he hit me in the jaw with his fist. As the pain exploded in my head, my whole world shrunk to a pinprick.
I was ready for his third violent act. He was choking me, and I pulled the drawer from the pedestal and hit him hard. I proceeded to break as many pieces of furniture as I could. When he was down, I felt powerful. But the next morning, I had more clarity and felt I
didn’t want his kind of power. I joined Al-anon soon afterwards and started my road to recovery. I learned that an ability to support myself financially is crucial to my well-being. And that none of his violence was
my fault. Four years later, I’m alone and happy - most of the time. My mom is alone too.
We talk sometimes, about the past and the future.
Anon :
Anon is from South Africa. She grew up watching her father beat her mother and went on to live in abusive relationships herself, for many years. After finally fighting back against her second husband, she realized she didn’t want the kind of power he had wielded over her. She left him and sought help with substance abuse recovery. Both she and her mother are content to be on their own now, free from abuse.
I never quite understood why my mother stayed, until I stood in her shoes. As a little girl, I always seemed to end up under the table on Thursday nights, crying. Mom would drag me out and say, “you’ll bring bad luck.” On Friday night, the drinking and fighting would happen, and of course I thought it was my fault.
I fell pregnant at 15 years of age. I started using birth control pills after my daughter was born. When my boyfriend found out, he threw them down the toilet and raped me. It didn’t just happen once, but a few times, and I got pregnant again. My marriage ended after 11 years, and I swore not to get involved with an abuser ever again.
My second marriage took place only a couple of months later. At first, it was sheer bliss. Then I started saying things about his drinking habits. On the night of September 11th 2001, I experienced his first violent act. He accused me of having sex with his friend, pushed me down on the bed, and checked my panties. He pushed me into the bathtub.
I must have knocked my head, but the shock made me numb to the pain. It went on and on. He pushed me over the couch and jumped on top of me. And then he pulled me up by my arm and swung me against the wall. I sagged down to the floor and just sat next to
an open door, but I was too scared to get up and run. And I even wondered if it was my fault.
Only a month later, I experienced his second violent act. This time, he added a public dimension by tackling me in front of our gate. I ran inside and he followed me, threw me on the bed, and choked me. Then he hit me in the jaw with his fist. As the pain exploded in my head, my whole world shrunk to a pinprick.
I was ready for his third violent act. He was choking me, and I pulled the drawer from the pedestal and hit him hard. I proceeded to break as many pieces of furniture as I could. When he was down, I felt powerful. But the next morning, I had more clarity and felt I
didn’t want his kind of power. I joined Al-anon soon afterwards and started my road to recovery. I learned that an ability to support myself financially is crucial to my well-being. And that none of his violence was
my fault. Four years later, I’m alone and happy - most of the time. My mom is alone too.
We talk sometimes, about the past and the future.
