Of Course It’s Not Abuse!

 (This is a re-post of a previously published post.  It was written for more than one person in my life.  There have been a few abused women I have known.  Not all of these women realized they were being abused.  It was the life they were accustomed to and had grown used to.  It was their “normal”)

It’s not abuse. I’m just stupid. I should know better than to make potatoes with his fish. He never eats mashed potatoes with his fish. He always has rice. Why did I try to change things and try something different? Why am I so stupid?

It’s not abuse. He doesn’t beat me. He’s never raised a hand to me. Well, there was that time when he threw his deodorant at me because I gave him the wrong jeans when he got dressed, but he didn’t mean it. He just got mad and it was a natural reaction. I shouldn’t have been so dumb. I knew he didn’t like those jeans.

I don’t know why I can’t do things right. It’s not his fault that I can’t pay attention to the little things. I should be able to juggle the housework and keep him happy. He doesn’t ask for much. He just wants me to do things HIS way. After 10 years I should know this.

He’s not abusing me. He takes care of me. Sometimes he lets me go visit my brother when I ask him for the car keys. He gives me just enough money for groceries so I can go shopping for him.

No, it’s not abuse when he called me a bitch because I forgot to give him the pills he’s supposed to take with his meal. If I really loved him I would remember how important those pills are to him. I have to try harder to remember. Maybe if I put a reminder in my phone for every day.

It’s not abuse. We have sex any time he wants to because he loves me. It doesn’t matter if I’m in the middle of making supper. It can wait until we are done expressing our love for each other.

I feel like an idiot. How could I have forgotten to make his lunch for today? I know I was busy helping the boys with their homework, but I should have remembered his lunch. He’s going to be mad all day now and it’s all my fault. I ruined his day. I wonder why he puts up with my stupidity.

I hate when he has this angry attitude all day because I didn’t pay attention to the little things. I know better. But he shouldn’t take it out on the boys. They are just little boys. Boys leave toys laying on the floor. He shouldn’t have broken Jacob’s truck. But it’s my fault. I knew he would be mad and I forgot to pick it up so he wouldn’t trip on it.

Why can’t I do anything right? When did I become so stupid? I never used to be so bad. I used to be so strong and smart. I used to talk back and not be afraid to say what I was thinking. Why can’t I stand up and say how I feel now?

It’s not abuse…

He doesn’t hit me.

— In my life I have known a few women who felt this way. Women who were strong, intelligent women. Women whose only fault wasn’t really their fault – they were damaged emotionally before they fell in love with the wrong man. Women who were looking for love and were willing to take it from the first man who offered to rescue them from their current unfulfilling life. Women who changed one prison for another. Usually the second prison is worse than the first.

These women don’t realize it’s abuse. They are already so beaten down they believe it’s their own fault they are treated badly.

These women are not weak. They are probably the strongest women you will ever know. They deal with a life nobody deserves and they still survive. They make a life out of the hell they are dealt.

Sometimes they find a hole in the fence. Will they be curious enough to crawl through?