It was nothing, you say. I wasn’t planning to hurt you.
You just overreacted.
You’re just so pretty, I had to.
The things you do provoke me.
Seriously, abuser. You actually think that I know what your limits are?
One thing is heartily clear about abuse: the abuser, not the victim, determines its end-point. It’s called control for a reason.
How do I know that when you ask me if I’m 18 yet that it’s because you don’t want it to be statutory?
How do I know that you, cat-calling, won’t be the one jerk that follows me?
How do I know that when I wave the offer of a drink away, you won’t follow me to my car?
How do I know when you rub up against me at work that you won’t deny me a future promotion?
How do I know that when you beat up the furniture, my face is not next?
How do I know that the bruises on my arms won’t be on my throat the next time?
How do I know that when you rush towards me, fist raised, you know you aren’t going to slug me?
How do I know when you throw that knife and slur “I want to kill you” that you actually won’t?
How am I supposed to guess I’ll actually survive you?
You think I’m a fucking mind-reader? Buddy, I’m not. And that, my friend, is why you’re fucking terrifying.
If you are trying to understand abuse, I recommend this book highly, whether your abuser is a man, a woman or someone on the continuum: Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men, by Lundy Bancroft
So TRUE Jane…live your life walking on egg shells as many of us have been told by others…not an easy thing to do. So we live our lives walking on those eggs carrying such a heavy load on such a delicate ground. The eggs crack… shells break cut and pierce our skin …we bleed. We try to stand but end up slipping into the running yolk…we slip …we fall…we bump our head. We try to stand up again and continue to slide even further and fall even harder…we continue to bleed. Our body aches, our head hurts, we bleed but we try to stand again …this time we do! Stand TALL…our inner strength …our soul is powerful…we hear that voice….we are not broken or cracked we are standing in the centre of that yolk…we did it! Now we glide through the slippery ground jumping over the pieces of those broken eggs leaving a trail of red. We are whole again we are the “EGG” not to be cracked or broken again….we will use our wholeness, our voice, our found soul and stand tall! We will use our strength through words …our inner power… our voice! To every single person out there that has been stepped on, broken, cracked, and that has bled…let your inner voice speak…it is more powerful then you may think…you will amaze yourself and you will be saving others by the dozens.