Calls to domestic violence helplines jumped this past year in Rhode Island. And the isolation sparked by the pandemic has also been challenging for many survivors of domestic violence who have left abusive relationships.
Among those survivors is Leah, who ended an abusive, 21-year marriage just as the state was shutting down last spring. This is her story, in her own words, edited for clarity.
This story includes descriptions of physical violence and may not be appropriate for all listeners. Click the orange play button above to hear the audio.
My story begins 21 years ago. From the beginning, he would call me like 20 times a day and, you know, just ask how I was, ‘What are you doing?’ And I thought that if he’s calling me 20 times a day, he’s got to really, really love me. He always wants to talk to me. He always wants to see what I’m doing. But if I look back at it now, it was a red flag.
There was an incident that happened that he had lost his phone. And he blamed that on me. He said that it was my responsibility to make sure that he didn’t lose his phone. So he slapped me. But at that time, I didn’t acknowledge that — I looked at that as something totally different, as like, this was the man I loved. Of course I was supposed to look out for him…I began to feel like the physical abuse was part of the relationship.
There were many times that I thought about leaving. And I didn’t know where to begin. I was embarrassed, I was ashamed. I didn’t want the questions that people would ask, ‘Well, if it was so bad, why did you continue to stay?’
In October of 2019, I got to a point where this no longer was acceptable to me, the way he was treating me. I was just existing, I wasn’t even living.
So an incident occurred where he wanted money for drugs, and I refused to give it to him. And he beat me up. He pushed me and he beat me up and took the money. And he did that two more times in the course of that one night. And the final time when he knocked on the door, I called the police. And that was the start of my journey to becoming whole again.
I was scared because me and my husband’s finances were tied together. I was scared of where I was going to live after. I was scared, you know, so I requested safe housing in February and I moved in March, just before the pandemic.
Had I waited a month later to report my domestic abuse, I don’t think that I would have been moved into housing, because everything shut down. And I would have still been in the same spot that him and I shared, which would have meant there’s memories there, which would have meant that he still knew where I lived. So yeah, you know, I got lucky. I truly got lucky.
Just that act alone — me having safe housing — made me feel more comfortable. I would wake up and open the shades up and get up out of bed and wash my face. And every day I would progress a little bit more.
I started putting affirmations on my mirror in the bathroom, and when I went to look in the mirror, I would say affirmations: you are beautiful, you are strong, you are whole. And you know, I had to try to convince myself that I was more than what he said I was. And then I had to learn how to love myself again.
I think that loneliness, like, when I moved — loneliness, isolation was a big thing for me.
I’m not very computer savvy, and everything was all about computers then. It was very intimidating — all of a sudden, you have to be a computer wiz. So I could see how that would discourage someone, because it discouraged me.
And even therapy, you know, therapy — now how am I going to tell my problems to somebody on a screen that I never even met? And everything was Zoom, and nothing was in person. And I just couldn’t, for a while, I couldn’t make a connection.
I had never, you know, been in a situation, nor heard of anybody who publicly talked about their domestic violence abuse, and I needed to hear that other people were in the same situation. And I needed to hear how they got out, and how — you know, just sharing my story made me become a better person. Just by me talking about, it made me feel better about who I was.
I think I am finally free and moving on with my life. I’m telling my story, and I’m just, I’m open to whatever life has for me.
This story was edited and condensed from an interview with Leah, who is a member of the Rhode Island group Sisters Overcoming Abusive Relationships. Her last name is omitted to protect her safety and privacy.
If you think you or someone you know may be experiencing domestic violence, call the Rhode Island Coalition Against Domestic Violence’s 24-hour helpline at 1-800-494-8100, or receive confidential, online support through the 24-hour live chat helpline.
Antonia Ayres-Brown can be reached at antonia@thepublicsradio.org.
