A couple nights ago I was relaxing at the local casino where I enjoy spending some time. There are a few people there with whom I’ve become acquaintances because we see each other every so often. The other night I was sitting in front of a machine when a woman—I’ll call her Maria—sat down next to me to watch me play for a while. She was apparently out of money, but not ready to leave yet. Maria is a woman I’ve talked to on occasion and who has opened up to me about some hard things in her life, including her father’s death last fall.
I was surprised when she mentioned her husband and said something about him that struck me as negative. She had not previously indicated any issues with him. She had a distant look in her eyes, then said something about him being mean to her. Apparently he calls her names and makes fun of her weight. The words she shared were cruel. I told her, “You don’t deserve that. You’re a very nice woman.”
“He shoved me the other night,” she suddenly shared, “and hit me. I have makeup covering it. He grabbed my neck—that’s what he often does; puts his hands around my neck. You’d be shocked if I told you how long it’s been going on.” I looked at where she was pointing and thought that I could see something of a mark underneath the makeup.
“Did you report it?” I asked.
She hesitated. “No, I . . . I can’t.”
I repeated myself. “You don’t deserve that. Nobody does. Have you thought about leaving him?”
She told me that she didn’t think she could do that. But I could see that she was torn about it. I told her, “I used to be on a committee on domestic violence for the county, and I understand how hard it can be for a person to leave that kind of situation, especially when you might be financially dependent on him. But these things tend to get worse over time . . .”
“You wouldn’t believe how long this has been going on,” she said. “It started three years ago. He takes most of my money and uses it himself.”
She started crying.
“These things usually do keep getting worse over time,” I said again. “It often starts with cruel words, then a slap or hit, and it keeps progressing. If you don’t do something he may eventually kill you.” I didn’t want my words to sound harsh or to scare her, but I wanted her to understand the cycle in which she was trapped.
She tried wiping the tears from her face.
I asked if she had ever heard of DAIS, Madison’s Domestic Abuse Intervention Services. I told her that they have shelters where women can stay that are places where nobody could find her. She didn’t answer, but it felt like this was something she was not aware of. “Could I ask you to consider calling them? They can talk to you about your situation and give you some advice and support. They’re really good.” I repeated the name of the organization, hoping that she would remember it.
She heard me but she didn’t commit to anything. I could see that the idea was both appealing and frightening to her. I could imagine that she was thinking of what her husband might do to her if she tried to leave.
After a bit she stopped talking about it and finally got up to leave. As she was about to step away I called to her again. “Maria!” She stopped and turned toward me. “Would you do me a favor? No, let me change that. Please do yourself a favor and call DAIS. At least give it some thought. Okay?”
She looked at me and half-nodded before turning to walk away.
I hope that she gave it some thought. I hope that she called, though I am afraid she may not be ready for that yet. I have no way of knowing whether she did or if she will. I understand the fear and the difficulty of leaving, even when faced with the horrors at home. Victims of domestic abuse get trapped in the cycle of violence and sometimes do not believe they deserve anything better or that it is safe to leave. I hope that she heard me and that at some point she accepts that she does not deserve the violence and the emotional abuse. I hope that somehow she finds the courage to leave and to reclaim herself.