Maya’s* Domestic Violence Story

January 27, 2016

My story starts in 1999-2014. I was 14 when I met my future husband. He was 18. He thought me how to drive at 16. Also how I should dress. He was nice buying me cool clothes and shoes. He told me all my friends were sluts and losers. If I hung around them meant I was too.

By 16 we lived together. By 18 I was pregnant and at 19 married. I believed he was teaching me because everything I knew was wrong. When I worked my job was a waste of time. Pointless house work wasn’t getting done (now I see I had more confidence and would develop identity when working).

We were together 6yrs before he physically abused me. Emotional abuse and controlling behavior started right away. He was training me. After my mom died he started hitting. The 1st time was because he was annoyed with how our 1yr old son wasn’t listening to him. I told him he didn’t understand you. He pulled my hair dragged down a hall into our sons room and choked me to the floor. Told me to never contradict him. There was no apology ever.

I became pregnant with our second son. At least once a week I was pushed down drug and beaten. I never told anyone. One day in October my neighbor told me they knew. Offered to help. Gave me a phone that could dial out 911 only. I couldn’t walk or see for a week. I knew then he would be the death of me. I couldn’t do anything right. No one would want me. I was 22.

By 25 I had learned I couldn’t win. No matter what he was always unhappy with me. I was crazy. It was all in my head. I would wish for him to write down how he wanted things done. But it changed from day to day. He changed day to day too. Everyone knew by then.

I didn’t understand what the problem was. I didn’t deserve to get hit but he didn’t know better. My neighbors called the police a few times. They would ask me I lied. People would say one day he’s gonna hit your sons no way he loves them. Yes when they couldn’t see him for him. When I was 27 my neighbors called the police we moved each time this happened he was arrested I had knuckle prints across my forehead hand prints around my throat black eyes. To me not that bad. They put a GPS on him. It lasted a month. I needed him. I had no one else. I couldn’t make enough money and get boys on the bus and off. I for some reason didn’t know how to ask for help. Now I know I was ashamed, scared, and felt worthless. Also I didn’t know how to get help.

I went to his court date and lied. The prosecution asked me if the handprint around my neck was from falling. I said yes. That night he was arrested. He learned if you hit a bitch only in the head no one can see it. I now have T.B.I.(traumatic brain injury) at 32. No different than a heavyweight boxer. 28 I told him to move out. My oldest son had ribs broken by his dad trying to protect me. He laughed at me. I called the police to have him removed. There’s nothing illegal about being a dick. I had no marks anymore. I didn’t want cps involved. (now I know I should have called them) I believed they wouldn’t believe me.

I went and put a protection order on him. Sheriffs removed him. By then I learned to be quiet and take it. To protect my sons. I lived 6 months with out being hit. He called my phone a lot. Wouldn’t want to see our sons or talk to them. Then, he became this dad who wanted to be with them help me with clothes and give me money for the boys (now I know he was baiting me). He’d changed he knows what hed lost. I let him come back. My boys were dumbfounded.

He told me we were going on vacation during this vacation he’s breaking me again. The way you break a baby from a bottle. In 3 days. He continued to beat me and trash talk me more and more. To the point of thought about killing him. Smothering him while he was drunk. I couldn’t do it. I prayed for him. No one in my family would even confront him. Or his. I left him filed for divorce and found out I was pregnant. He was on probation for a owi didn’t want to go to jail.

For a while I thought it’d all stopped. Once the baby was born it started again. Even worse. When our son was 8 months old he attacked me while holding the baby. Punched me on my right side of my face. I screamed in holding the baby. He didn’t care. I went down to protect him he pulled me up by mu hair bashed my face off the kitchen counter. Told me to shut him up off the stove with my head. Blood everywhere. He dragged me to the nursery put him down. I refused to punch out came a tooth. I tried running from him. I couldn’t see anymore or hear. I’m screaming I have the baby. My head went off the door nob. Then I feel my back being kicked. My body being beaten and then a loud pop from inside my head. I couldn’t put my arms up I was protecting my son. My eye socket broke. I hear sirens from police. They kick in the door he stops. In the last month the police were at my home at least once a week. I am so happy to be free but have a long road to go. 19 yrs of abuse. He received 2 yrs probation. I will have a lifetime of emotional and physical damage.

January 2016