I Thought It Was Normal
(First or fictional names only are used to protect the victims)
Rhomonia: “My husband wanted a plain Jane. If I wore lipgloss, I was a bitch. If I got my ears pierced, I was a whore. I was the one who went for counseling because I wanted to make myself better for him. He started beating me, then he started beating our children. I felt like I was losing my mind because I started plotting for ways to cut his body up and drain his blood in the bathtub. In my head, I heard my mama say the abuse that happened to her was going to happen to me. I knew it was time to go.”
Tiffany: “I am 43 and have been holding all of this inside for so long. The abusive relationships started when I was in 10th grade. I got pregnant, and my baby’s daddy was my abuser. He found a branch, peeled the bark off, shalacked it, carved my name in it, and called it “the chastiser.’ When he beat me with it, he said it was because he loved me and was toughening me up to prepare me for life. I didn’t think it was that bad, because my stepdad treated my mom worse.”
Lori: I was isolated and only around his family by design. His mother stayed with a man who cheated on her, controlled her and demeaned her, and she expected me to do the same.
Cassandra: “I was 14 when I met him, and the beatings went on for nine years. He beat me black and blue with a pipe. After the first few whacks, you go numb and can’t feel it anymore. He threw me out of the car and punched me when I was sleeping. One night he almost killed me, and I ran out of my house naked and bleeding, trying to save my life. Penelope House is where I learned I had been abused. That is how men treated my mama, so I thought all of that was normal.
I thought it was normal.
Being beat by a pipe or a stick, isolated from friends and family, thrown out of a car or watching your children get a beating should never be normal. But abuse, anger, and reactions to them are learned from childhood and over 40 million adult Americans grew up living with domestic violence (Childhood Domestic Violence Association).
“Victims think the abuse is a normal part of a relationship because it is how their mother was treated, and they haven’t seen any other examples,” says Joan Dunlap, education director at Penelope House shelter for victims of domestic violence. “It crosses all race, cultural and economic lines.”
Dunlap says normal can be abuse passed down a family tree — some women have seen four generations of abuse from grandmother and mother to daughter. Only one generation ago, it was normal for women to be considered property that needed to be punished, like children. The man controlled the power even if he didn’t control his temper. The woman was the caregiver, the one taught to please others while denying herself and keeping her own feelings inside.
Interviews with victims, offenders, advocates, and counselors show it is normal for abuse to begin with molesting by fathers, grandfathers, uncles, stepdads, and brothers. A dark secret kept buried deep inside.
Juanita: “My father was an alcoholic and started sexually abusing me when I was two. I was just learning to walk, and he would grab me by the crotch and pull me to him. I was still in diapers.”
Mandy: “My stepfather was a high school biology teacher. In the summers, after my mom left for work, he would get in bed and spoon and graze my breast. He rubbbed my bare butt. His brother would ask me to watch porn with him. At family dinners my uncles grabbed my ass. I went to my friends’ houses and didn’t see it happen there.”
Tia: My father was abusive to my mother. I was ten years old when my brother started raping me. He was 13 and would wrap his hand around my long, blonde hair saying, "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will kill you."
Penelope House teaches that love isn't supposed to hurt and domestic abuse can happen at any age, even dating relationships in middle school. Abuse can be mental, emotional, sexual and financial. It can also be withholding love and affection or inflicting public or private humiliation. It may begin with an insult, isolation, jealousy, a check of texts, a push or a slap, but it gets progressively worse because there is no referee, no timeout. Wounds from words and a beaten-down self-esteem last much longer than bruises.
Cathy said the changes came when he demanded to know where she was at all times. He started controlling who she talked to, became jealous of friends and monitored text messages. He isolated her from family and friends and called her stupid, fat, and a whore.
Cathy: “I met him in college, and it proceeded quickly to wanting to be with me all of the time for the rest of his life. He brought me food to work, which was sweet until I realized he was checking up on me. We met in October and married in March. He immediately changed. I had to quit my job and school and be home all of the time with him. He moved me to Grand Bay, away from my friends and family, and the isolation began.”
Tia: Three months after we started dating, he moved in and took care of the house, and it was good. Then a girl called my phone and asked to talk to him. I asked who she was. He said it was none of my business. He grabbed my phone, slung it out of the window, and then backhanded me. That was the first time he hit me. He apologized and was my knight in shining armor until the verbal abuse and jealousy returned. Three years later, he started hitting me again.
Domestic abuse is a cycle of Jekyll and Hyde, says Rhyon Ervin director of The Lighthouse shelter in Robertsdale. The tension builds, and the victim walks on eggshells, knowing something is coming. For hours, weeks, months, or years, she is on high alert, waiting for the storm to come. The tension finally breaks, and the abuser lashes out. It can be physical or locking her out of the house, cutting her off of accounts, or taking the kids to prove he can. The eruption is often followed by a honeymoon phase where Prince Charming reappears with apologies, flowers, and promises never to do it again. For a brief period, the man she fell in love with has returned, and she hopes this time he will stay.
“Women need to know there is nothing they can do to fix the abuser, and he isn’t going to change," says Ervin. "He is getting everything he wants and doesn’t think he needs fixing."
Cassandra: “He would beat me black and blue and then buy me 20 cards, flowers, and candy and say he didn’t know what came over him. I would fall for it, but I knew that man wasn’t good for me. You think they love you because they do have some moments of compassion.”
Mandy: “He went to jail four times when we were together. His brother would bond him out, and I would drop the charges. He came back begging and crying and saying that he wanted to be a good father. He wanted to take care of me.That is what I wanted to hear, so I believed him and kept taking him back. That stage never lasted long”
Keri: “We would go months without physical abuse, and I would think we had made it through. He would be sorry and say it would never happen again. I committed to our marriage, and I believed him every time. I left a couple of times, and it would be a good day, week or month. We were once on a family vacation, and I thought everything was good, but then he put a gun in my mouth.”
From domestic violence shelters and crisis lines to police and courts, there is a system working together to protect victims and get them to safety. But leaving isn’t easy. Her self-respect has been beaten down so low that she thinks the abuse is all her fault. Kristin Clikas- Murphee, Supervisor of the Court Victims Advocate Program at Penelope House, says some victims apologize for taking up the dispatcher’s time when they call 911.
“Abused women have been told for so long that they are stupid and worthless. They have been blamed for the violence by the perpetrator, society, and even her own family,” says Clikas-Murphee. “Victims don’t see how they can leave or support themselves and their kids. But they are survivors and stronger women than they realize. They just need to know that there is help available when they are ready to get out. We are always here for them, no matter how many times it takes them to leave.”
It takes multiple times to leave because the perpetrator pulls her back with the reward of love or the threat of punishment,” says Dunlap. “He threatens the people, or pets, that she loves, and she sacrifices herself to protect them. Sometimes she realizes it is time to get out or die, but getting out is the most dangerous time for the victim. The abuser will do anything to keep her, even kill her, because if he can’t have her, no one else can.
75 percent of domestic violence homicides happen when the victim leaves.
Cathy: “I knew he was going to kill me, and I prayed, ‘God take this from me because I can’t do it anymore.’ He told me to get a sheet of paper and a pen, then said write this down, ‘I am sorry I was a bad mother.’ He was trying to make me write my own suicide note. He abused me all night and talked about killing me. The next morning, people at my school realized something was wrong. I told them about him, and they helped me get out. I went to Penelope House that night. He committed suicide 10 days later, and I never saw him again.”
Cassandra: “I knew he meant it when he threatened to hurt the people I love. He even threatened to kill my parents. There are a lot of people I pushed away to keep them safe. I finally went to Penelope House so I could be safe for myself. They moved me to a safe location and helped me find a job. I started over from there.”
Eleanor: “I got out. I had done everything I could and there was no more trying not to die. It was choose him or me, and I chose me.”
“Getting out means the victim is safer, but she will always be looking over shoulder,” says Toni Ann Torrans, Director of Penelope House. “The safest option is to help her resettle in a new place with a new identity where no one knows her or her kids, but that is hard for many women to do.”
Victims said in interviews the physical abuse takes away years of their life and is hard on their bodies, leaving them with arthritis and migraines, but the wounds of mental abuse are as hard to heal. It is difficult to trust men or to be touched by them. There is anxiety over leaving the house or talking to a stranger. Some call it PTSD and have attempted suicide or have gone through periods of being abusers themselves.
Torrans says the victim may get out, but if the abuser goes free, the cycle doesn’t end. He finds another woman looking for Prince Charming, and it begins again.
“In some cases, a victim gets out and the perpetrator moves on to the next relationship, and kills her,” says Torrans. “Domestic violence has to be taken seriously and we have to prosecute the offenders.”
Some victims relive the cycle through their daughters because abuse becomes their normal, too.
Tiffany: “Last year, my daughter’s boyfriend beat her so badly that I didn’t recognize her when they called me to the hospital. She refuses to leave him and is pregnant with his child. I am stepping in because I know how her story can end.
Lori: “My ex-husband mentally and emotionally abused me and my son. It wasn't until he felt his stranglehold loosening that he became physically violent. I was married for over 20 years and I suffer from the scars that are still surfacing. I wish he had just beaten the hell out of me. Those bruises would have healed sooner than what I deal with every day."
Domestic violence is a cycle that has to be broken victim by victim. One normal must end for a new normal to begin.
If you need help, Penelope House is a shelter in Mobile that provides safety and protection for victims of domestic violence and their children. Their 24-hour crisis hotline is (251) 342-8994. The Lighthouse in the shelter in Baldwin County and the number for their crisis line is 1(800) 650-6522. The national domestic violence hotline number is 1−800−799−7233. You can also call 2-1-1 to find the help you need anywhere in Alabama.
This is from a series of stories about domestic violence that ran in Lagniappe in 2018.
