Jessica was a beautiful 38 year old single mother who came to us after going through a nasty divorce several years ago when she found out about her husbands secret addictions. There are always two, or three sides to every story, however, in the long run the truth always prevails.
I heard that she went back to School, rebuilt her life, had a great job, home, car, and bootstrapped herself out of the ugly muck of the past. And.... she had gotten married to a wonderful, charming,
intelligent man, a negotiator, who lived in a gated community.
We love happily ever after stories. I was eager to meet her for coffee when she wanted to get together.
She was networking for a job, any reasonable job. That seemed odd. She was well groomed, articulate, sharp, and thoughtful. She wanted to cut the meeting short because she felt tired and sore. As she reached for the check I noticed a hand-grip bruise on her upper arm. We looked at each other with the questions and answers in each others eyes. She lifted her other arm, then her pant leg, asking if I wanted to see the rest of her body. All I was able to come up with at that moment was to go with her to the nearest police station and have pictures taken. She did not want to put herself through any more shame. The police had been called, however, deliberate, calculated bruises (never the face) from a predator don't show up at the time of the assault and no arrest was made (again!). The police had made frequent stops to their house. Neighbors knew and talk. The counselor, even after seeing bruises of multiple assaults, was "confused" as to who the actual perpetrator was so she would not have to report to authorities. Clergy can't report. Predator gloating that he got away with it and upping the ante.
Why she did not leave? No job after he repeatedly called her office and showed up. Financial exploitation to fix his reckless life style. No place to go. Shame for having dismissed red flags that methodically reduced her self esteem. Fear of inability to make a sane choice.
She needed her purse with the drivers license, car keys, and the credit card in the latest incident. He grabbed it and slammed the door repeatedly against her body until she collapsed. She lived with a survival bag stashed in the car that could safe her life. He was not finished with her until it was his idea.
I heard that she went back to School, rebuilt her life, had a great job, home, car, and bootstrapped herself out of the ugly muck of the past. And.... she had gotten married to a wonderful, charming,
intelligent man, a negotiator, who lived in a gated community.
We love happily ever after stories. I was eager to meet her for coffee when she wanted to get together.
She was networking for a job, any reasonable job. That seemed odd. She was well groomed, articulate, sharp, and thoughtful. She wanted to cut the meeting short because she felt tired and sore. As she reached for the check I noticed a hand-grip bruise on her upper arm. We looked at each other with the questions and answers in each others eyes. She lifted her other arm, then her pant leg, asking if I wanted to see the rest of her body. All I was able to come up with at that moment was to go with her to the nearest police station and have pictures taken. She did not want to put herself through any more shame. The police had been called, however, deliberate, calculated bruises (never the face) from a predator don't show up at the time of the assault and no arrest was made (again!). The police had made frequent stops to their house. Neighbors knew and talk. The counselor, even after seeing bruises of multiple assaults, was "confused" as to who the actual perpetrator was so she would not have to report to authorities. Clergy can't report. Predator gloating that he got away with it and upping the ante.
Why she did not leave? No job after he repeatedly called her office and showed up. Financial exploitation to fix his reckless life style. No place to go. Shame for having dismissed red flags that methodically reduced her self esteem. Fear of inability to make a sane choice.
She needed her purse with the drivers license, car keys, and the credit card in the latest incident. He grabbed it and slammed the door repeatedly against her body until she collapsed. She lived with a survival bag stashed in the car that could safe her life. He was not finished with her until it was his idea.
We don't change what we can tolerate; with some, rock-bottom is death. The "village" needs to SPEAK OUT!
http://www.ncadv.org/learn/statistics
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