The highest hurdle was to admit she was a victim. For over two years she had told herself her relationship was different, that Mac wasn’t abusing her.
She sneered at those women who were in abusive relationships, thinking ‘not me’, and always able to explain why Mac did what he did, which ultimately led to it being ‘her fault’.
It was after the last beating, the one where he knocked her down and punched her in the face, two, three, four times, that she realised that she had married a brutal coward who took out his weakness on her. Her, because she was small and he could beat her.
It was not a simple realisation. It struck her with an amazement and such pain that she cried. Not because of the bruises on her face, but because of those on her soul. Because for over two years she had taken Mac’s abuse.
Taken abuse, from insults to having anything she wanted denied, to physical beatings as ‘wear and tear’ of marriage.
She cried, because she realised who and what she was.