It doesn’t have to hurt….

Although I don’t remember everything, I’ll never forget that day.

I remember being thrown onto the floor and kicked repeatedly in the head.  My son had just started crawling.  As I looked up I saw him face to face with me.  He didn’t understand what was going on and I tried to smile to not scare him…but I was crying.  I couldn’t stop that.

I don’t know what the fight was about and I don’t remember much else, but I do remember being kicked and seeing my son looking at me while I laid on the floor crying.

The following day a neighbor came up and told me she had heard/seen what had happened and if she saw that again she was going to call the police.  I laughed it off.  I mean, I’m sure it was something I did to cause him to be so upset.  It was always my fault.  I told him what the neighbor had said, of course he got mad and said she was a nosey bitch that needed to mind her own business.

The years went by and although I wasn’t always kicked, I remember having to wear my hair down to hide big purple bruises behind my ears.   I remember being screamed at, called names and made to feel worthless.

I’m going to be perfectly honest here…I don’t remember a lot of that time frame.  I don’t know if it is because my mind has blocked it or if the trauma to my head has caused a lack of memory.  I don’t know.   This wasn’t the first time I had been in an abusive relationship, but it was the most traumatic.

I remember showing his mom a big bruise behind my ear and her being upset and yelling at him.  I don’t know that I ever told my parents, although I’m sure they knew but weren’t sure how to help me.  I didn’t think I needed help.  I thought it was my fault.  I thought I was doing something wrong.

During that time I had a good job in a call center.  It didn’t matter where I was or who I was talking to, I had to answer my phone if he called.  I remember being in huge company wide meeting with our site director letting my reps know about their jobs being about a stressful day, right?  Well, he happened to call and I didn’t answer.  I got yelled at and called names.

I was always called names.  I was a bitch. I was a cunt. I was stupid.

When I realized that my son was treating me like his father was, I realized I could’t do this anymore.  I had two kids to think about.  I didn’t want my son to grow up and treat women like this and I didn’t want my daughter to grow up and think it was okay to be treated this way.

I had to get away.

As soon as I started to talk about leaving things got worse.

Who would want you?  You have two kids, no one is going to want to date you.  What are you going to do without me?  

I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I couldn’t live like this anymore.  I had lost nearly all my friends and the only friends I did have I kept away from him because I knew he’d embarrass me and be rude to them.  I didn’t want to lose everyone.  When I said I wanted out the threats to my life and my families life started.

Was he really going to kill me?  Was he really going to kill my family?  I don’t know.  I mean, he beat me.  He screamed at me.  Maybe he would.  He threatened me with his gang member friends….they would come and kill my family, making sure I lived so I’d know it was my fault they died.  He was going to take the kids.  He’d hold me down and pump me full of heroin so he could say I was an addict and the courts would give him the kids.

It came to a point in time when I had to decide if I wanted to continue to live in fear.  I had to decide if I wanted to continue living my life wondering what I was going to do to piss him off.

Of my three even semi-serious relationships, all were abusive in one way or another.  Two were both physically and mentally abusive.

Why did I keep dating these same guys?  Why did I end up with men that treated me badly and beat me?  My parents were never abusive, they were still married and although they fought (I mean, they were married for…ever…so yeah, they will fight, nearly every couple does) but it wasn’t ever like this.  

Why did I keep choosing to be with men that treated me badly?  What was I teaching my children?  My children were the big determining factor in me leaving.  Even if he did follow through with the threats, it would be better than living like….this.

I did get away and that story I will share another day….but for today know.  If you are being treated this way, you are not alone.  You do not have to live your life in fear.  It is not your fault and no matter what you do, you do not deserve to be hit, yelled at and talked down to.  Regardless of what they say, there is someone better for you out there.  I promise.  I’ve found someone that is the opposite of these abusive men and have never been called a name or raised a hand to.

To be continued……



  1. says

    Wow Amber. I’m so sorry this happened to you. When I saw your post, I had to stop by and read it. My mother was also a victim of domestic violence and lived through daily threats. As kids we watched it continually. I’ve written about it a couple of times on my blog:

    I really appreciate that you wrote about it and I really want to hear more about what you did to escape that life. You deserve so much better…and I’m glad you’ve found someone who respects you. It’s not easy to break that cycle, but you’re doing it. ♥

    • says

      Thank you Chantilly. I kept choosing the same type of guys and it seemed like a never-ending cycle…I felt like that is just how it was supposed to be. But I figured it out. I’ll be sharing more. There is a lot more. So much more.

  2. Cori Cambanes says

    Hugs Amber! You are a fighter and deserve the best! While I have never been in that kind of relationship I can only imagine how rough it was on you & the kids. You are amaing. Thank you for sharing with us!!

    • says

      Thank you Cori! <3 I really want to share my story because I know a lot of women go through it and don’t think they can ever get out. But you can…I’m proof. I’ll share more another day. :)

  3. says

    “When I realized that my son was treating me like his father was, I realized I could’t do this anymore. I had two kids to think about. I didn’t want my son to grow up and treat women like this and I didn’t want my daughter to grow up and think it was okay to be treated this way”. Wow, just about word for word this is exactly what I said and still say to this day as to why I didn’t stay with my first sons dad. I’m so glad I didn’t. I’m so glad you got out. And never afraid to be alone either, it’s better than being where you were….

    Today I’m happily married to someone who treats me like a queen….you will find your prince too….

    • says

      When my son was first learning to talk, he would cuss me out the in the stores. We’d be at Walmart and he’d ask for candy or a toy and if I said no I remember his yelling at me “fuck you you fucking fucker!” I wanted to die right then and there. I knew where he learned it from, but I was being looked at like I was this horrible mother. At age 3 he was kicking me and hitting me, screaming at me. I knew if I stayed where I was, he would end up just like him. I couldn’t do it. Shortly after my daughter was born, I left.

      I have since met a wonderful man that has been through so much with me. He understands that I still have baggage from that bad relationship and sometimes I overreact to things because of it…but he’s never made me feel inferior to him. He’s never raised a hand. He’s never called me names.

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