October is Domestic Violence Awareness month. Movies like “The Burning Bed” and “What’s Love Got to Do With It?“, many books and even the O.J.Simpson trial brought this ugly secret out of hiding.  Despite these events, domestic violence is still a reality for too many women. As shown in this CNN I-Post from yesterday, some people think the situation is laughable. 40Muse.com contributor Kimberly A. Collins debunks the sorry lie behind domestic violence.

It was a nice sunny day and I was playing outside in front of my house when a tall, pretty woman dressed in a black halter top with tight black pants ran past me crying. A man with a thick, black leather belt wrapped around his fist ran behind her.  When I saw him swing the belt and hit her legs, I jumped. No one on the street even flinched. As a teenager, I was walking across the 49th St. Bridge in Philadelphia when I saw a big woman in a nurse uniform curled in a ball on the ground being punched and kicked by a squirrel of a man in the light of day. I wondered, “Why doesn’t she get up and sit on him?”

As an adult I realized a woman’s physical beauty or size does not protect her from violence when she is beaten-down from the inside. Before a fist lands, words deliver the punches that deaden the spirit and make a woman believe she is worthless and deserves the punishment she receives. I was hired as the first employee for The DC Coalition against Domestic Violence (DCCADV) to spread the word about the warning signs and cycle of domestic violence.  That is when I began to understand events like those I saw while growing up were not rare. I learned that shame makes victims lie about the bruises or the black eyes. I understood why women get beat in the light of day without anyone coming to their rescue. I understood why a woman dies every day at the hands of a man who said he loved her. Through this work I learned how women are groomed to accept violence from charismatic men who claim to love them. Women are vulnerable when they are not aware of the warning signs of domestic abuse which include: jealousy, short temper, the need to control what a woman wears, her activities and the need to isolate the woman from family and friends.

When I spoke to groups about the work of DCCADV they often asked,”Why does she stay?” I replied,   “Why does he beat her?” I explained that women are at a higher risk when they leave their abuser and need support to plan a safe departure. There are many other factors such as children and the need to believe the person she loves means it when he says he is sorry and will not hit her again.

I wrote this poem in 1995 after hearing the stories of women in prison who killed to protect themselves.  I wrote it after hearing stories of women repeating a cycle of violence begun by their mothers and who taught them to believe a man was not a man unless he could control her with a punch. I wrote it after hearing stories of daughters and sons who lost their mothers to a lover’s rage. I wrote this poem after witnessing the many lost lives sewn in a quilt of sadness for women who believed their man’s sorry lie.

Remember My Name

When you remember my walk upon this earth

Look not into my steps with pity.

When you taste the tears of my journey

Notice how they fill my foot prints

Not my spirit

For that remains with me.

My story must be told

Must remain in conscious memory

So my daughters won’t cry my tears

Or follow my tortured legacy.

Lovin’

is a tricky thing

If it doesn’t come

from a healthy place,

If Lovin’

Doesn’t FIRST practice

on self

it will act like a stray bullet

not caring what it hits

You may say:

Maybe I should’ve loved him a little less

Maybe I should’ve loved me a little more,

Maybe I should’ve not believed he’d never hit me again.

All those maybes will not bring me back – not right his wrong.

My life was not his to take.

As your eyes glance my name

Understand once I breathed

Walked

Loved

just like you.

I wish for all who glance my name

To know love turned fear – kept me there

Loved twisted to fear,

Kept me in a chokehold

Cut off my air

Blurred my vision

I couldn’t see how to break free.

I shoulda, told my family

I shoulda told my friends

I shoulda got that CPO

Before the police let him go

But all those shoulda’s can’t bring me back

when I lied so well

To cover the shame

To  hide the signs.

If my death had to show

what love isn’t

If my death had to show

that love shouldn’t hurt

If my death had to make sure

another woman told a friend

instead of holding it in

If my death reminds you

how beautiful

how worthy

you really are

If my death reminds you

to honor all you are

daily

Then remember my name

Shout it

from the center of your soul

Wake me

in my grave

Let ME know

My LIVING was not in vain.