People often ask me to write letters to my younger self. It seems like they must be asking many of you the same question. Three words keep ringing in my mind: "Get Out Now". These words keep repeating over and again, pushing me to make a decision. I wished I had taken action sooner and just left already after hearing stories from other survivors of domestic abuse and figuring out my own; those survivors too, can relate to my experience with staying in a deplorable relationship. For so long I hid the truth to avoid being identified as someone in an abusive relationship. People often think that victims or survivors of domestic violence are like doormats because they remain silent for various reasons and their stories go misunderstood. I absolutely hate being referred to as a doormat, which is why I suggest using this term: survivors of domestic violence. Loving and living with somebody introduces a complex paradox between wanting and needing to be loved, interweaved with envy, anger and brutality. Understanding this experience can be so difficult, for individuals who haven’t experienced it frequently could ask why we stayed. Even those closest to us may question why we are in those rocky relationships. For someone who's been a survivor of domestic violence for so many years, it's been important to ask myself - why did I stay? I understand more now than before; however, the real key question to ask is: how did I leave? Working on that question has helped me assess my feelings. When I used the term "domestic abuse", it is because it accurately describes the relationship I had with a man. However, it does not discount intimate partner violence: the occurrence of such an issue happening in many different types of relationships like those between two men, between two women, and especially between a man and woman.
I am a typical domestic abuse survivor, just as there is nothing special about me - backed by the fact that in my twenties I was away from home, family and friends; being recently out of nurse training making me instinctively inclined to be compassionate and help people. I recall vividly the first signs of shock and denial when domestic violence threatened my existence. The last slap and joke were the mark to make me realize that staying in such a relationship would be fatal. A mix of nine years of sadness, humiliation, and distress concludes with just blurry flashes in my mind. After beginning to talk about my experiences of domestic abuse, as a scientist at heart, I became determined to understand why I stayed and how I left. To do this, I consulted other survivors and read whatever material was available; committing to viewing a TED talk from another woman with similar experiences further down this process. I have identified four distinct phases of resilience related to my experience in staying and leaving. While others may have different ways of looking at it, these phases are essential for me in trying to comprehend the process. Many survivors may go through all or some parts of them.
I fell in love with Peter very quickly when I first met him in my early twenties at a wine bar. He was nearly 40 and incredibly sophisticated while I had hardly experienced anything at that stage having come straight from nursing school. He splashed champagne into my glass, something I had never even seen before in my life. Going out on my third date with this sophisticated businessman driving a Porsche while I felt awkward and shy, I mustered the courage to tell him something funny. Before him, I had gone out with another Peter! He was expressing his immense love and apologies for behaving in such a forceful way after just three dates. Before I even got the chance to sit down at the table, he began apologizing sincerely. All of a sudden he put a gold bracelet on me along with some sweet words - that's how much I meant to him. My initial reaction to receiving such a generous gift of a gold bracelet from my soon-to-be partner wasn’t rooted in the fact that I had never previously owned the luxurious commodity, but rather because someone I hardly knew thought highly of me. That was enough to evoke strong admiration and fondness. I was so blindsided by the many changes in the relationship; the honeymoon phase became the seduction phase. I went on trips, tried out various activities and wore exclusive accessories on Peter's request. But little did I know I was assimilating to darker behaviors which weren't tolerable before in our relationship; I was starting to delude myself.
People who never break free from delusion can be in a perilous situation. For instance, I found myself stuck in this mindset for a prolonged period of time, for years and years in fact. Nonetheless, generally the duration of such phase is limited to merely weeks. He had been promising me all sorts of romantic trips to incredible places I'd never even known existed and, when I looked back, we weren't married yet or on a journey. Despite this, I had come from Maryland to Scotland for nursing then finally London. My beautiful vacation about to begin on that fateful eve, I said something and he responded by furiously slamming his hands on the steering wheel and abruptly stopping the car. When I stepped out of my side expecting an embrace, instead he tipped my head backwards and banged it against the top of the car ferociously. My mind was overwhelmed with uncertainty, as I sat on the sofa, contemplating how only moments ago a person who had professed to love me suddenly exhibited so much rage. Shame also crept in as I agonized over how to drastically conceal on my face the prominent bruises around my ear, which felt tender and swollen. I drove to Heathrow in a daze the next day after our argument, and onboard the plane my companion had red, puffy eyes. He softly apologized, explaining he had been so stressed with planning our holiday that when I said something amiss, he didn't quite realize until later outside his understandable reaction. I'm beginning to realize that I'm not in an abusive relationship but, rather, something is slipping due to my lack of effort in trying to support and nurture our love. That is why I am the one failing at this, seeing as I don't appear committed enough to allow him reach his true potential. The cycle of seduction, tension, threat and apology I lived in for so long needed to be broken. Hours, days or weeks would go by with me constantly feeling the need to earn the tenderness of those initial moments; but it was like an addiction: people around me were experiencing the same thing.
The third stage of this journey was awakening, during which I began coming to terms with the fact that my feelings for him weren't truly love, but rather fear. Over the course of this realization, I reawakened slowly, embracing my newfound understanding. He drove off after getting into an argument with somebody at lunch, yet I was still determined to stay and enjoy myself. Upon arriving home that evening, there was no response after knocking on the door, ringing the doorbell, banging on the windows., or calling him on the phone for nearly half an hour. When he finally opened the door, his anger was palpable. He yanked me by my hair and threw me to the ground, viciously beating me with a flurry of punches and kicks. I could feel myself becoming winded and blood trickling down my face as I lay there, looking up at him as he headed for the kitchen to grab a knife. Somehow I gathered enough strength to jump up and rush into the sitting room; hastily pushing a sofa against the door in an attempt to barricade it since there were no locks. He was still screaming at me, blaming me for making him hit me like that. When I woke up in the morning, he was standing over me with a knife and I thought for sure that I was going to die. To my surprise, he pushed me down and started crying on his knees. He said he would never do it again and looked at my face in horror. In the end, I had three broken ribs and a shattered cheekbone so when cameras say smile, one side of my face doesn't move properly. But despite this experience being so painful, it is still one of my happiest memories because it was then that he hit me and realized what he had done.
My mistake ended up being an unforgettable moment. Five days later, I had to go back to the hospital and I found it tough getting in the car due to my injured ribs because of him venting his feelings in form of slamming the steering wheel and out of frustration asking if my wrongdoings would haunt him forever. Many moments and mistakes in this relationship of ours have taken their toll, and I realized I couldn't do it anymore. Even if there is still some love between us, and even though he's great and wonderful, the overall relationship is no longer healthy, far from it being perfect. My mom and dad visiting was the event that pushed my relationship over the edge. In the same room we were in, I said something which Peter did not like and he got annoyed. He stood between me and my mum and harshly slapped me on my face while my father was only a few steps away calmly walking his route as usual. My dad noticed the red on my face and demanded to know why, at which point the full effects of Peter's audacious slap finally set in for me. For the first time, I viewed Peter from somebody else's perspective – my father's – and realized that these kind of incidents were not just acceptable to him.
The final and most dangerous phase, the phase of leaving a relationship, is actually an otherwise important act and not just a moment as one needs to overcome several self-made barriers - built only because of the thought of ending the relationship - that comes in the way when the self-belief and confidence about this decision is at its lowest. Financial concerns among other personal issues caused me many worries - paying the mortgage, the bills and the utilities had used up all my money. I thought to myself; what would become of me if I would no longer live in this house? Everything here belonged to him anyway - from our furniture to even his circle of friends! The most dangerous time for those in abusive relationships is also when they try to leave as the perpetrator strives for control. Unfortunately, many do not survive this hazardous phase, resulting in tragic fatalities. This alarming occurrence is deeply concerning and the survivors of domestic abuse must be supported while they share their stories to caution others. I had never before told anyone about what he had done to me, yet after I finally disclosed this to my mom she was horrified. Recently I further informed her of the entire extent of it and soon came to understand that it was vital for me to leave the relationship. Amidst floods of tears, at 4:00 a.m., six days after telling my mom I had resolved to leave him, I awoke and packed a small bag. When I woke him up and tried making a speech talking about the violence faced by me, he barely flinched and just snored again, apparently sympathetic about my departure.
I told my sister, for the first time in ages, that I had booked a hotel for myself - Iverson Heathrow, the most affordable one. But when I drove towards it, it hit me - the fear mixed with that unique sense of liberation. It was like driving off a cliff! Devastation was the emotion I felt as I survey the numerous projects and lives taking off around me; from babies to travelers embarking on their own journeys. Even so, I am also starting my own unique voyage. That tough and self-reliant woman didn't appear suddenly - it was something that took time to manifest. Frightened and filled with terror, in the early days of my escape from him I was living a homeless lifestyle; using sofa beds to rest at night. Despite this, I am proud to say I managed to maintain employment. Unfortunately for months, even after my leaving him I would regularly times experience flashbacks of his presence. For nine years, I felt powerless in that relationship but recently discovered a small superpower - telling my story so others can learn from it. Now you know me as an entrepreneur and a dragon, and my journey is culminated by the beautiful marriage with Richard Hannaford and birthing a son Caldera. I believe my entrepreneurial traits were gained throughout life and not when I was born. Everyone else was having fun in their twenties, but I was learning qualities like resilience, determination and a willingness to take risks. It wasn't until past thirty years of age that I truly developed courage and belief in myself that allowed me to become truly independent, especially when it comes to relationships.
See also: https://mygodsentangels.com/