Things I Thought I Knew. Part 2

I didn't exactly have a privileged childhood. Far from it. However, I did have a (single) father who loved me and raised his four girls to believe in themselves and not take shit from anyone. 

Good lessons.

And maybe because of him, or maybe it's an inbuilt ...thing.  Or the arrogance of youth. Either way: I grew into a young woman who didn't take crap from ANYONE. When you are twenty-something, with your own company, living in a nice place, driving a nice car and expecting significant return on hard work and ambitions, you really start to think you're invincible.

...until an enraged, six-foot man thunders towards  you in your own living room, fist raised, ready to strike your 98lb (at the time) self with all his weight and strength.

I had never thought I would be a victim of domestic  violence. I had always thought that if anyone raised their fist to me, I would simply reach for the nearest heavy object and smash in their skull. I thought I would take a stand; angry, screaming and fight. And even if I didn't win (unlikely, given my size), I would try bloody hard to do him as much damage as I could before he incapacitated me.   

Yes. I was a feisty wee thing.

But of course, when it actually happened, it didn't work out that way.  He came at me fast with fist raised and I reacted completey instinctually: I cowered; face covered, head down, waiting for the blow. 

The blow never came.  Instead, he checked himself and left the house, incandescent with rage, the tyres of his BMW  tearing up the gravel  driveway of our nice place, leaving me huddled on the floor by the window. 

I have never felt so betrayed in my entire life. I was shaking; shocked, horrified by what had just happened. The interesting thing is that I didn't feel too much shocked and betrayed by my then-partner. I felt betrayed by myself and shocked by my own reaction. Never in a million years, would I have predicted this:

I cowered.

I, who had once -as a skinny 13yo- faced down a snarling Rottweiler to retrieve a dropped purse, who had fearlessly handled German Shepherds and terriers alike (but not cocker spaniels. They mental).

I cowered

I, who had gotten between a violent person and their intended victim on more than one occasion, who had pulled a six-foot-something karate kicking man off an unconscious guy in Cork while a crowd of people had gathered and done nothing (regretted it when the guy regained conscioussness -he WAS a dick, I felt like knocking him back out meself!)

I cowered.

And I, there on the floor of the darkened living roon, with the moonlight creeping in, sat and faced a new and previously unimagined version of myself:

I, Coward.

 

 

Comments

[LR]

Coward? Hell no! I call that survival! You win to live another day! Your instincts told you the best way to survive in that moment. Now shush on that word coward.

[One Sick Mother]

LR,

There was more to the story. I chose to leave it out and go with the drama. I was going to write the rest as a "Part 3". However, "Part 1" was one story, and "Part 2" was half of another. To continue part 2 wouldn't be "Part 3" but rather "part 2, part 2". Or maybe "Part 2½"

It was all getting a bit confusing.

Suffice to say, I eventually got a grip on myself and left that abusive relationship. Not soon enough. But I left, and that's what's important. I no longer see myself as a coward, but -as you said- a survivor.

OSM

[Elizabeth McClung]

It is odd how the body reacts in different circumstances, thank you for writing this, opening yourself up like this. I have also cowered, the one who leaned toward blows, and goes toward problems. Your writing helped me remember the ways in which I thought I knew myself in all way, and I didn't. I am glad you got out of that situation, and thank you for writing this.

[One Sick Mother]

Thank you Elizabeth. That means a lot, especially coming from you.

[Tendai]

I am glad you are safe now and can talk about your experience. Domestic abuse crosses culture, class, age and race and it can happen to anyone. Even those who said in the heart, "That will never happen to me."

It is extremely shocking when someone you love tries to physically hurt you. So it is normal to cower and then be ashamed and so embarassed about it that one won't tell anyone what is happening (besides, he cried,said he was sorry and promised he would never do it again). It's part of the cycle of abuse. So what if you cowered, nothing wrong with that unlike the bully who shouldn't have been freaking coming at you like he was going to smear you anyway.

From your post, I hope people will see that if it can happen to someone with your ability to confront anyone, that it can happen to them too. Too many people blame the victim about why they put up with it or question why didn't they fight back instead of understanding. Anyone would cower when someone 3x your size comes at you. What kind of person would we have to be in order to expect that anyone including those we love and who love us, at anytime, could come and kick our asses? How can we not be shocked?