I’m going to republish something I wrote a while ago for another site, that has since been taken down. It was the most difficult decision I ever made for a thousand reasons – mostly because I was jumping blindly and wildly into the unknown, rather than stay and face a comfortable fate. Leaving abuse is about as easy as climbing Everest in heels, and I doubted myself more often than I’d like to admit. In the moment, I couldn’t tell if the decision I was making was the right one. But this was the turning point that helped me realise that something had to change, and that something had to be me.
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“Are you ok?”
A concerned stranger’s face appeared beside my boyfriend’s irate one.
“yes,” I sigh, as I get cut off by Irate Boyfriend.
“She’s my fiancé,” he sputtered, as if that excused his behaviour.
I don’t remember what happened next, just like I don’t remember much of my life from that time. Blessedly, I’ve let it go. There’s not much I’d like to recall anyway, if I’m honest.
But I do remember the one person who dared to inquire as to my welfare that day in the hopes that the abuse to which he was witness would stop.
The storm began to brew that morning when the Boyfriend demanded I borrow my mother’s car so he could drive me to the ATM to collect my week’s wage.
My little brothers needed to get to school, so we said we’d take them. They were young, and exuberant and annoying to the Boyfriend.
By the time they’d been dropped off, I was near tears and riddled with guilt. He was furious. They were only little and didn’t understand the complex dynamic in the car that morning.
They just thought it was their fault.
I was dropped off at the entrance to the shopping centre, while Increasingly Irate Boyfriend found a park.
The line for the ATM was long, so I sat and waited for a few mintues for it to clear. It might have been morning, but it was already getting hot.
Irate Boyfriend appeared from nowhere, berating me for not being in the line, as now he would have to wait longer to part me from my hard-earned cash.
Quiet, knowing that anything I said could and would be used against me, I dutifully made my way to the line.
Unappeased, he continued his barrage. Nothing short of a bullet would stop this man when he got this far.
I saw the mother in the line behind me draw her small child closer, away from the crazy guy yelling at a young woman at 8.30 on a Thursday morning.
That’s when I realised what was happening was something I would be horrified by if I saw it happening to someone else.
That’s when I realised this kind of life I had never quite got used to, but instead endured hoping it would change, had crept into the realm of more than I could take.
Determined to get into the car and drive – unlicensed, but desperate – back home and leave him stranded to carry on, to hell with the consequences, I sat in the driver’s seat and realised I didn’t have any keys.
Irate Boyfriend followed me over, screeching into the window that I’d wound down to ask for the keys.
That’s when someone from the crowd standing around came over and ignored the raging dickhead, and instead asked if I was ok.
I was, and I wasn’t.
I wasn’t ok, because I was in a relationship that was abusive, only because he never hit me I thought we’d sort it out and it wasn’t that bad.
I was ok, because I was now starting to realise the bad outweighed the good in my life and that other people could see it too. That I wasn’t just imagining it, or overreacting or being oversensitive or any of the other things snarled at me when I dared to stand up for myself.
Someone cared that I was being mistreated, even if I didn’t care enough myself. That made a huge impact on me.
That person will never know he helped to change my life.
That person did what he thought was best when he saw a situation that nobody really knew how to handle, let alone me.
That person moved to stop a person abusing someone weaker than himself.
And while he wasn’t successful that day, eventually he was.
Eventually the abuse stopped. When I made it stop.
It wasn’t easy. It was complicated and weird and exhausting and a million other things, but it needed to happen.
And it took a stranger to get me to see that I was worth it.
I remember this post…it still makes me want to give you a big hug.
Wow what an amazing post! The man who asked if you were ok deserves some really good karma!! 🙂
Brave confessions Stacey. Someone’s gonna read this and change their life too xo
Really beautifully written and from the heart of a woman who knew she deserved better. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers, really courageous of you to share this with us xoxo P
So much love to you Stacey. I’m so glad someone stepped in for you, sadly that is not too common.
It’s so important to share stories like this, so that women (and men) realise that they don’t have to be hit for it to be abuse.
Wow, I was right there with you for every word. Brilliantly and bravely written.
Very brave of you, I am glad you could leave
Well done you for having the courage and strength to leave that relationship, and are a very inspiring person and I am so glad I found your blog 🙂
I totally get this Stacey I went through exactly the same thing with a guy ,he took my money he abused me ,he was just an asshole from hell and I took it and thought I loved him and then I did what you did and saw it from the other side,I want to give you a hug and tell you it makes you stronger hey xx
For years I used to secretly hope and pray that a neighbour or a friendly passer by would do something similar but I had no such luck. I couldn’t believe it because I even used to scream and scream for help. Once, even when my partner’s cousin was in the next room my pleas were ignored. All i got was my ring finger broken in three places. I never had the strength to get my own help. To anyone reading this please, please, PLEASE always get or offer some help if you ever hear or see evidence of abuse. I believe it will always be appreciated, and if not, it is definitely the right thing to do.
Such a powerful story Stacey – one that should and hopefully will reach far and wide. I’m loving your 31 confessions – if it wasn’t for my 96 Year old Grandpa who reads my blog, I’d be inclined to join you. I fear some of my confessions may be too much for him 🙂 Mel x
Wow, thank you for sharing your story. I left an abusive family situation many years ago. It was the hardest time of my life, but also the happiest.
What a fantastic post, thank you so much for sharing it.
Geez..I’m so glad you left that dickhead and have your beautiful life now with your little family. Thanks for sharing. You are so brave.
you might be all of you wonder i am man but i totally support you in what you did , i always believe life can not stop in one person i am glad you did that and thanks for share you story
I’ve kept coming back to comment on this and struggling. Firstly I want to hug you for that hard difficult decision you made, your bravery in escaping that place. You don’t really realise the impact of your words on another until they tell you, so here I go… It is so easy to justify an abusers behavior, if you hadn’t have done this or had’ve done that then they wouldn’t be angry with you. It is also hard when you finally feel the courage building and they reel you back in with promises of change, tiny snippets of hope, but they are all deceptions. The hardest thing at all is possibly the emotion, this is a person you love. Why? Well you have no idea, but it’s there. I guess one of the biggest things to learn is that love is a choice. Just as you choose to love you can choose not to, even if it does hurt for a while.
Thank you for the choice you made.
Yeah you did it for yourself but you have no idea the impact it has in ithers to hear your story and to feel like they too owe it to themselves to say enough is enough and you can never be what I deserve even if you do change.
I guess this has a lot more to do with me right now than anything but I wanted you to know that you are just fucking awesome in my eyes.
Dude. Thank you.
And dude. they will never change.
Remember that time we were in the cab to DPCon? And you said you were being hassled about what you were doing while you were away? That really hit a nerve with me, and I remember telling you breezily “really? I wouldn’t put up with that”… and I hoped that you could see that it wasn’t normal behaviour. I genuinely wouldn’t put up with that sort of passive-agressive, immature, childish bullshit. You knew it was bullshit, he knew it was bullshit, but yet he still accused you of it anyway. That’s not cool. That’s what you don’t put up with. There’s no way in hell my husband would stop me from doing something I was truly interested in, no way at all. He would support me. you deserve that too. I also remember writing a comment on one of your posts about breaking up – that you survive it, I’m living proof. It’s hard as fuck, but it’s SO WORTH IT. I know its different for you with kids and all… but you and they deserve better. Get some ass-kicking boots on and make your life all you’ve ever wanted it to be. You can do that, you know. It’s real.
This gave me goosebumps, (also why does Goosebumps autocorrect to a capital G?) and also a sense of pride at this woman I don’t know, who found the strength and self worth to say enough is enough. This story is a powerful example of the ripple effect of a random act of care or kindness, I hope wherever your stranger they have a happy and blessed life.
Haha maybe Apple has been reading too much RL Stine?
Thank you for your kind words. It’s almost like a dream now, like it happened to someone else. It did teach me to perhaps step in where I might be reticent to.