Battered by perception
April 19th, 2011
Apart from fleeting moments of reflection, I have never really imagined what it must be like to be a battered woman. I still am unable to understand the complexities in the act of being abused, or the relationship with ones abuser, but I can relate a little to the public’s reaction to the bruising.
I was recently in a sports accident which resulted in my nose being broken and subsequently dramatic bruising around both eyes. Painkillers and anti-inflammatory drugs were prescribed and for the first week I had to wear a neck brace. When wearing this, people assumed I had been in a car crash. This opened the door to questions, sympathy and concern, even from strangers. I guess because a car crash can happen to anyone at anytime, there is no mystery or intimate concerns to worry about which makes the topic easy to approach and discuss.
After the first week, when I was no longer wearing my neck brace, my experience of the world around me changed dramatically. Suddenly the black eyes took on the look of someone who had been hit in the face, and being a woman was interpreted by many as abuse.
People stopped asking me what happened, their gaze was diverted away from my face and voices were much lower and almost condescending. I am sure people meant well and were awkward, but it made me feel ashamed even though I knew the reason for the injury. I had nothing to be embarrassed about and yet walked around wanting to hide from public view. I began wearing sunglasses to hide my eyes and avoided going out in the evening when they would not be appropriate to wear.
I found my reaction alien to my normal behaviour as I have a good sense of self, my own body image is good even though I do not fit into societies ‘ideal’ feminine figure and I am confident. This was a completely new emotion to me, especially the sense that everybody was watching and looking at me with pity or fear. It was awful.
Being abused is firstly nothing to feel ashamed about, people do not do it to themselves, nor ask for it. But the visual representation of it must hurt both physically and psychologically.
I cannot imagine the hurt victims of abuse must feel in their version of my situation with marks of violence. The really sad part was, that when I approached people who were looking at me, they all made up some excuse for their actions. Not one person followed through and asked if I was ok, or if I needed anything. I felt completely alone.
So to my sisters who understand what I am talking about, my love shines on you all. I hope you find the strength to navigate a path towards a brighter life, one which is filled with hope, love, compassion and happiness.
