Diary of an Abused Woman

Day after day, sundown upon sundown I had just one desire. A sole wish for which I fasted and prayed for, I can even show you vouchers. I went through my days feeling like I had a furnace in my heart burning me deep and causing my eyes to drown me with tears.

Tears on my skin and fire in my heart, a condition I found myself enduring Just because I held on to love. History taught us that the slave masters would whip their slaves because they felt they were lesser humans. Slaves were mere properties they acquired to do their work while being treated lesser than house rats. Bonded by chains, they worked under the scourging sun and whipping rains. A fate too cruel to have been true. Alas! I am neither a slave nor is my love a slave master, so why have I been whipped by him and bonded with chains. Though free, my days are like that of a slave. Is it that he feels I am less of a human than he is?

I looked at the picture of my younger self and beamed with pride at the dazzling beauty staring before my eyes. My tongue was about to sing my praises but my gaze met the mirror and I saw what I have become. My once dancing eyes were as still as a statue, and lifeless like an aged woman’s breast. My lips were still bruised and my right cheek was swollen. On my forehead was a scar I didn’t have as a child. They say black don’t crack, but it seems I was cracking by the day. My beauty has now become a mere memory.   I reminded myself that nothing lasts forever, so there was no need to feel downcast. 

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The phone started buzzing and my heart raced in a thousand directions. There could be only one person calling me. For this person’s sake, I threw my family under the bus and cut ties with my friends. To make him happy I left my job to care for his home and needs.   

A part of me wanted to race to the phone and become completely smitten by the one who was at the other end, but another part of me was scared I might say something wrong again and earn another beating. I wasn’t fully healed and another beating might be too much for my body to handle. At the same time, I was terrified of what I might make him do to me if I ignored his call. What a dilemma!

Fellas, don’t get it twisted my love is no monster, he is the sweetest and fairest of them all. The problem is me. I am not as wise as he is, so I get him mad and he hits me as a punishment. It is my fault that he gets angry so I am responsible for my pain. I hope someday God grants me enough wisdom to stop provoking my love. May God also grant my love the strength to control his temper, Though I am hurting, I still love him. He is just imperfect like every other human so do not judge him.

I flew with my thoughts and forgot my buzzing phone. A few hours later the door flung open and my love stood before me with rage, and in his rage, he kept hitting me until all I could see was nothingness. I blacked out and never regained consciousness. I guess I didn’t pray, and fast enough.

One of the greatest absurdities of life is the excuses victims of domestic violence spew in favor of their abusers. There is zero justification for abuse!!

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