Femme Writes- Abuse: Getting Out

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of August, we’ve chosen to write about Physical and Mental Abuse. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.

violence. abuse. shame. emotional scars. i’ve written about it all before in my blogs. it’s no secret that i’m a domestic violence SURVIVOR. hell, i have it tattooed on my leg. i’ll talk to anyone about what i’ve been through. i’ll try my damndest to help anyone get out of their own situation. talking to a friend the other day, long term goals came up and mine will always be that some day, when i’m all growed up, i want to own a piece of land outside of town with two houses on it- one for my little family, and one fully furnished, stocked to the gills, and ready to go for families needed a place to get away and start over from domestic violence. i want to have a place that won’t say no to people really, honestly looking for a way to get out. it will have long gated driveway that goes DIRECTLY past my house so no assholes can try to sneak in and do what assholes do best: convince the woman that just one more time…it will be different this time, really…

FUCK THAT NOISE. it’s never different. only worse. hellz no…my place is going to be a safe place. a place to start over, get your feet on fresh, solid ground, and go on to be another SURVIVOR like me. i want to turn victims into strong, outspoken survivors that go on to help more women and maybe eventually we’ll all be strong enough and outspoken enough that we’ll run out of victims to help. wouldn’t that be the perfect world? if this didn’t have to do posts on this topic? ever?

but, in the mean time, what is the point of this post? i’m not going to hash over my story again- if you want to read it there’s a few posts about it throughout my blog. i’ve never written about it from start to end…one of these days ill get around to that. but. suffice to say: shitty abusive marriage, and _I_GOT_OUT_.

and that’s what i want to talk about here- GETTING OUT. how i got out, the hope that others can get out, and the best advice i was ever given.

when i finally decided to leave i was 23, had a 5 year old and a 9 month baby, and was only working part time. not exactly the best conditions. but i knew, come hell or high water, it was time. i lived in a VERY small community at the time and i had grown up there so everyone knew me, and, by extension, knew my husband. if you’ve never been to a small town…people TALK. A. LOT. and i knew that if people found out what i was doing and started talking…there would be no way in hell i would ever get out.

so. what do you do?

you get as sneaky and subversive as your abuser, but in a GOOD way. i found people that could help and wouldn’t talk. i found a domestic violence counselor that KNEW how scary it was and how dangerous it was and was just as determined as i was to make a SAFE get away. i learned that when you call about apartment you don’t give out your name until you’re handing in the application. i learned that even in a community awash with “no room for domestic violence” posters and propaganda there are really few people willing to help when the problem is on their own doorstep. you see businesses or apartment owners with the signs in their window and think it’s a safe place to go only to be turned away or hung up on when you dare to utter the words “domestic violence victim”. i don’t know how many apartments i called where they literally hung up on me when i asked if i could quietly move in and not have people know because i was trying to get away from an abusive marriage.

and i get it- i understand…domestic violence is hard on landlords…property destruction, noise, police, disturbing other tenants…i get it. but some of us are really trying to get away…we’re not going back again, we’re not going to have the cops at our house every night to referee the screaming, we just need a little help and a safe harbor.

thanks to the good will of the universe, the hard work of both myself and my DV counselor, and a great landlord i was finally able to find a home and make my get away. my counselor helped me find a brand new (at the time) grant in our state called T.H.O.R. and i was the very first recipient- it was housing assistance specifically for domestic violence victims. sadly, the grant has since gone away- from my understanding there were only a few of us ever able to be part of the program.

i let the new landlord know what was going on and he not only made it okay, he let me know that if there was ever anything else i needed, any other way he could help, just let him know.

and: the most important thing, quite possibly the reason i’m alive today, and THE BEST advice i EVER received, my domestic violence counselor told me: “once he knows you’re leaving, never go anywhere with him alone. ever. he has nothing left to lose at that point.”

i thought she was being overly dramatic. i thought she wasn’t talking about my situation. i thought she was just doing her training. but she’s been trained that way for a reason. she knew to say that FOR A REASON.

sure enough, the day i was packing and leaving, he came home to the uhaul in the driveway and the first thing he said was: can we go somewhere to talk? just the two of us? do you want to guess what i heard in my head? the voice of my counselor: don’t go. don’t go anywhere with him. he has nothing left to lose. DON’T GO. STAND YOUR GROUND. STAND. YOUR. GROUND. and i did. that little voice kept me still. i stood there, in my front yard, in plain sight of the friend that had come to help me, and i didn’t budge an inch. i told him there was nothing left to say. he had told me hundreds of times that he hated me and wanted me gone, so i was leaving. that’s all there is, there is no more. so he left. and i packed, then i left. i wish i could say i never looked back…but there were a few moments of questioning myself. there always are. there’s a few moments of being so completely broke financially, emotionally, everything that i thought maybe…BUT I NEVER WENT BACK. thankfully all i ever did was THINK about it and write about it in my journal, i never actually went back. once i was out I. WAS. OUT. and even after i was out, i kept hearing her words- my counselor, the strong woman who made me strong by example: never be alone with him.

so…what am i trying to say? all in all, i hope i made a few points…YOU CAN GET OUT. there are people who will help. sometimes you really have to dig to find them, and that SUCKS. but you can do it. you can come through the other side and be stronger. you can learn and teach and become ok again. hell…email me, leave an anonymous comment, I WILL FIND A WAY TO HELP YOU. if you know someone that needs help, PLEASE be the one to reach out. and i know it’s hard. i know that many women say they want help only to go back to the same mess over and over again. it can be draining. it can be frustrating. but i believe it can be worth it all if it’s the ONE TIME that she actually breaks free and stays away.

and please, always remember, for yourself, for friends, for stranger, for anyone in this situation: NEVER GO ANYWHERE ALONE WITH THEM ONCE THEY KNOW YOU’RE LEAVING. there are too TOO many news stories about women who went back just one more time…they thought they were just going to have a quiet talk…it’ll be okay…it’s just one last conversation…and you never see them again. i won’t say i was lucky, because it was a damn lot of hard work, but i WAS lucky that i had excellent people that knew what to say and found paths for me to walk…but i still had to walk them.

some day kids…some day we will look back with a sad smile. we will remember what we’ve gone through. we will remember the words we wrote to help others. we will be sad that such a time ever existed. and then we will rejoice that through our words, through our help, others have been spared. other women won’t have a story to tell. AND THAT WILL BE A VERY GOOD DAY.