Some weeks ago I came across this article on domestic violence written by Roel Raymond which was published in an edited version on Groundviews. She spoke of her former life with a husband who use to beat her and subject her to many forms of domestic violence while she endured it with her son. I do not know her personally, but have seen her at certain events, a beautiful woman with her son and it came as a surprise to hear her story. One thinks of the uneducated and hunger stricken groups of society when one thinks of domestic violence, but her story made it clear to many that domestic violence happens, and not only in shanties but anywhere near us.

My story is slightly different. I have lived my life with a father who made me feel I was ugly and a mother who connoted I was a slut. May be they thought it was their form of showing love (apart from trying to feed my sister and I, on a mission to eradicate world hunger). Some would think these as minor events of life, but then again sometimes I wonder if it was the case. Dad would describe me to be the one who has “holes on her face with a constant look of annoyance”. (well the holes on the face might be a permanent state, while the look of annoyance could be because he is around, not too sure, but that is the form my father chooses to describe me to anyone who finds and interest in identifying me) Mum on the other hand, has a obsessive need to control anything and everything my sister and I wear. And then any criticism of the choices made would borderline on insinuation on her daughters character. Don’t take me wrong, they fed me and brought me up, and many people deem I am lucky to have them as they paved the way for me to have a good education and for me to be where I am, mentally as well, by building my endurance levels, then again, sometimes when I wonder about all the bullshit I put up in the world whether their verbal modes of showing me “affection” has been contributing in some sense.

When one speaks of domestic violence, they only think of a man beating up a woman. However that is not the only case. One can break down a person continuously with words while messing ones mind into believing that you are a worthless being, who does not deserve respect, and who deserves to eb treated that they treat you.

Over the last decade I have met many people who have been subjected to such behaviour or tried to subject me to such behaviour. I have read men talk of me as I was a worthless being while dating me, and trying to hold onto me with their tears and with “I am sorrys”. I have been with those who claimed I was not good looking but that they loved me, and insinuated that I should be grateful to them for loving me, despite not been the gorgeous being they could have dated. I have heard a man talk to his best friend and tell him how sick I made him feel, while declaring to me that he cannot imagine a life without me, and then go onto state that he wished he was dating some colleague of his.

I always wonder on the amount of bullshit that I put up on a daily basis and then has been accustomed to put up on a daily basis. Sometimes a man may not hit the woman, but his words can be enough to break her being. It is sometimes worse to hear one talk of you in a way that gives you the least level of respect and keep silent when the friend asks “why is she past selling by date?”. We women take a lot things for granted in life, mostly the respect we deserve. I know that most of us are taught from childhood of the greatness of patience. I have tried it for 27 years, but have of late realised that one needs to be patient, but also needs to draw a line where we say “NO. That’s enough!”