The Face Of Domestic Violence

Due to all the hoopla surrounding Chris Brown and Rhianna, I’ve decided to talk about my own brush with domestic violence. Blogs and media sources are quick to blame the victim. Today a saw a blurb that said he hit her because she hit him in the head with a high heeled shoe. Whatever!

People are real quick to say things like, “I’ll never let a man hit me”, “I’ll kill a man if he puts his hands on me” or “I would never go back to a man that physically abused me.”

While this may be true for some women…..it’s not true for all, and it was not true for me. If someone would have told me that I would experience domestic violence in my lifetime I would have thought they were lying or joking.

Domestic violence does not only happen to people in broken homes or witnessed domestic violence growing up or very dependant. My parents never had any physical altercations and I love and embrace my independence…but it happened to me.

I really cared for my assailant … I thought I could make him a better man. He was going though a rough time in his life and I just wanted to be there for him. I felt either I did something that caused him to act violent and many times I would try to keep my mouth shut to “keep peace” in the house. The first time he pushed me, I dismissed it. The second time was a lot of verbal abuse and a hard push in the face. I fell to the ground and bruised up my hands and knees. As crazy as it sounds I blamed my big mouth, cause believe me when I say I was exchanging verbal assaults with him. The third time I picked up a 7” butcher knife and told him if he lays a hand on me again I would kill him…………and enjoy it. We broke up for about 6 weeks but we decided that we loved one another and wanted to get back together. The fourth time happened 3 months later and to make matters worse it happened in public. We starting arguing in the car, I thought it were best not to say anything. But as he kept verbally attacking me and I responded. He told me he was ready to beat my ass.. so I pulled up in front on an emergency room because I knew security and/or cops would be present. Would you know there was no one in sight? We fought like cats and dogs…clothes were ripped, blood was spilled and he ran off into the night.

While standing there wondering how did this happen again…………. I remembered my Granddaddy and how much he loved Grandmother. My Grandma was a firecracker…quick to cuss and good at being mean and ignorant. However, I never heard my grandfather say a negative word about her. I never seen him hit her or get so frustrated that he went outside his character. My Granddaddy has passed on… but standing there all bruised up and pissed off... I felt his presence. It felt like he was saying. “Pooh, this is not love, that mane does not love you the way a mane is suppose to love a woman.” At that moment I felt peace and I knew that it was over. I deserved more and he needed help…help that I could not provide. I took the blame off of me and left it there in front of the emergency room.


The funny part about it was…I wasn’t mad. My window was busted, my elbows were scraped and I had his blood all over my shirt. But for the first time I felt good! Security and the police showed up after it was all over. I told the police I wanted to press charges and if/when they caught him give me a call and I would follow through. The police was surprised I was so calm given the fact it looked like I had been through hell and back.

Thankfully my wake up call came before a murder. Because if I had a knife or a gun I would have killed him or he would have killed me. Domestic violence is real y’all... but so many women are ashamed to admit what they are going through. I never told my family what was going on in my life. I did not what them to take action against my boyfriend. Plus I was living in shame; it was a secret that I did not want to get out. People thought of me as a strong black woman... and what strong, black and independent woman would let a man beat on her? I did not want to be judged and have people feeling sorry for me and looking down on me at the same time. Because of those fears I never told anyone what was going on. It may have been helpful but I could not see past my own embarrassment.

The guy called and texted to say how bad he felt… how he wanted to commit suicide and he loved me more than I ever knew. The best response is no response. I knew he was trying to rope me into a conversation. I finally spoke with him and told him, “This is my first and last time telling you to leave me alone…or I will get a restraining order.” So far this has worked. I also moved to a new location so I don’t have to worry about him stalking my home.


According to the Institute on Domestic Violence in the African-American Community at the University of Minnesota, Black women reported more than 30% more cases of intimate partner violence than their White peers.

In cases of domestic violence interventions are crucial, because Black Women are far more likely to be victims of homicides related to intimate partner violence. As a community, Black Americans account for 33% of such homicides with Black women specifically accounting for 22% of these cases (though they make up only 8% of the national population) and 42% percent of all female homicides related to domestic violence.

Rhianna is still a kid, everyone has their breaking point. I pray she finds hers before someone gets hurt.