Attn: Why I Thought Abuse and Violence Was the Way of the World
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I never really knew or understood what violence against women was, even as it flooded through so many parts of my life. It’s almost like I never knew the things I saw were considered a crime. Incidents hadn’t reached a level of violence where women were being killed, or bones were broken. There was a lot of noise when I was little. Vague memories of screaming and banging things. One of my first memories was calling my grandma crying because I was afraid. She picked me up and whisked me away to her house where I always felt protected and safe, and got all the chocolate malts I wanted. What I later learned was my grandparents would have epic fights. The kind where dishes were broken and eyeglasses were stomped on. These stories were told to me as “funny tales” of the quirky marriage they shared.
I was probably eight years old when the teenage daughter of my next door neighbor ran from her boyfriend who was choking her. I was just a little girl and she seemed so much older than me. I didn’t understand what happened or what it meant. She was crying and I picked flowers in the front yard and asked my mom if I could take them to her. She was still shaking, with red marks around her neck, as I handed the flowers to her. She said thanks, not looking me in the eye.
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An ex-boyfriend and I were talking once when I said I didn’t feel comfortable drinking a lot at a conference we attend each year. “I don’t want to get raped,” I said explaining an honest fear without even thinking about how abnormal that is. “You should be able to have fun and relax without being assaulted by one of your peers,” he said to me. It was almost like I didn’t even understand I had that right. I always assumed that one day I’ll be sexually assaulted - I always assumed one day I would date someone who slaps me and I’ll have to be prepared for how to handle that. I just thought that was what normal looked like.
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