I think the biggest reason was embarrassment - even though I had nothing to be embarrassed about. I just didn't want to admit that I, a feminist who had always stood up for feminist values, had been so clueless as to fall for an abuser.

I was insanely protective of him. Perhaps as insanely protective of him as he was insanely jealous of me for having any kind of a life outside of his orbit. Like battered wives throughout history, I downplayed what was going on at home or simply didn't talk about it.

There were other reasons too. When men batter or kill women, or attempt to kill them, the commonest time to do so is right after a breakup - particularly if SHE has initiated the breakup. So it becomes an issue of physical safety and sheer survival. Of course, the problem is compounded if children or pets are involved. That wasn't the case with me during the first round, roughly from 1976 to 1980.

And I think I've written enough for this instalment.

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trampart

January 2016

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