he did not just push off her center of gravity provoking
her to fall and then exclaim "watch out where you are walking"
he did not just slap her across her face and call her a "puta"
insulting her and forcefully ****** her until he fell asleep and she slipped from under him
he did not whisper in her ears "I'll **** you"
like once he so boldly declared to my brother with the more metaphorical phrase "I will put a bullet in your head"
this time he beat her until his sisters showed up
one of them was silent the other preached "she deserved it"
this time he beat her: combo-ed his attack and added whatever strength was left in 60-year-old body
that in our video chat my mother was bruised
all over her petite frame
this time after a lifetime of abuse, she did not defend her honor
she did not stay for fear of losing her golden cage or for her children this time she left safely picking the right time with her son
filed the report, got a lawyer walked up the steps of the court
battered-
and lighter
lighter
becoming
up
step
in each
to her freedom, I sing a praise, and I reach my palms up to the heavens; they are open, and I weep for the years she stood there always the "one to blame"
Domestic abuse is horrifying to witness but the person is more than the abuse they encounter. Growing up in an abusive home taught such terrible boundaries. I had such a low standard of love and of how others should treat me. i did not realize that watching my mother be miserable and okay with being unhappy became the norm for me. I thought loveless self-behavior was okay. It was not. It has taken me a lifetime to unlearn idea that "my feelings don't matter." which translates into "I don't matter". i saw how my mother and father treated themselves and that's how I began treating myself instinctively. I wish I could say I grew up watching a healthy relationship but I did not and that wow affected the entire way I saw relationships. It is not sad to me anymore. It is simply the truth.