A troubled life as a teenager, I was to face a nightmare that still haunts me to this day. But ‘they’ were strangers, this was my husband.
All the warnings from loved ones couldn’t have prepared me for his final showdown-
We had been separated for a few months, not without drama but on the last move, I thought we were safe. Christmas was around the corner, and as a young mum of two, knew it was going to mean alot of penny-pinching on presents, but felt our home would be filled with much more laughter now that the worst was over. The day was warm, and it was still only early morning. I had planned to get as much shopping done before the mid day heat, my youngest still in a pram.

Off the bus and into the busy crowds of shoppers we headed, never knowing for one moment our lives were in grave danger. My baby boy had been running a fever so the first stop saw us at our local doctor’s surgery. “Just a bad cold” said the GP, a huge relief to me. By 11am my baby made it quite clear he was hungry, so the 3 of us went to a nearby park for our morning tea giving me a chance to rest my sore feet!
Nice and refreshed, we set off to see Santa in the mall. My little girl had her photo taken, all smiles and this seemed as good a time as any to make our way back to the bus shelters. We climbed the same hill, only I was carrying an extra load with all their gifts tucked secretly beneath his pram.

Days of our Lives had just started, I made them some lunch and returned to the kitchen. My clothes line full but on the ground laid a pair of my son’s pants. I had just stepped out the back door when I felt his hand over my mouth. It all happened so fast, but i knew it was him. I tried to scream, my heart racing as fast as my mind…’the babies’..all i remember was seeing the knife which became the weapon used to hold us all hostage inside my home.

Obviously I survived to tell the story…but the sad reality is many DON’T! I could well have been a statistic that day and believe me, the threat was real enough, real enough to see men dressed in black vests and helmets, swarming like flies over our house, all with their own weapons.
After 17 hours, he surrended to their demands, and we were set free….there are NO words to describe what I felt, but I know there are many good folk out there doing what they can to prevent such situations and I admire each and everyone.
I had been married to this man, for a mere 5 years…the violence began a week into the ‘honeymoon’, and progressed from there. ‘Why did you stay?” I hear you ask??? For many reasons, some were as clear as his threats to hurt other members of my family, AND friends. I loved this man…why did he hate me so? So, for the first five years I stayed…I wish I could say more, but this is all I am really able to share. So when you hear people asking “why?”, I say to you, Domestic Violence can spread if not caught in time, and you just don’t know who will be its next victim.
Please show your support anyway you can, even if it means just being an ear to someone reaching out!

‘Why She Stays’

Sting of a slap without reform
A fist closed tight clenching rage
Her flesh weathers yet another storm
Years are not kind from the batterings
They tale their toll
Bruises on skin
Bruises on soul

Contorted reasons on each apology
Her heart will again relent
It’s not love alone that dulls her mind
But the censure of weak consent

Be not her judge for what she stays
There are no rules she’s broken
If guilt be any it lays in hiding
Domestic Violence

Rarely spoken~

Debbie Stevens ©2005

God Bless

I was a child, and I was frightened. Often the violence would spill into the bedroom where I and my brother and sister had run to huddle together and, hopefully, avoid it. Sometimes it worked, but too often it did not. And sometimes, we were the ones that were injured.

I have fought for years to build up my self-esteem, to overcome what I witnessed, what happened to me and to my siblings. To this day, there are times when I walk into a room of people, and have to force myself not to duck my head in shame. Without warning, the humiliation I felt as a child will overwhelm me when I am presented with a situation where a lot of strangers are involved. At the age of 54, I still have dreams of those nightmarish nights.

I wrestled for years with anorexia. I wanted to eat, but I couldn’t. I was so full of anger and hatred, that there was no room in me for food. I was unable to form a decent relationship until my late twenties, when I finally sought counseling.

If you are a parent in this situation, get out. If you can’t get out for yourself, get out for your children. You aren’t helping them by staying in a violent home, not if you want them to be happy and successful, if you want them to have a better life.

Get out. Now.