Domestic Violence Awareness Month: Leaving an Abusive Relationship as a Hmong Womxn

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. It’s a time many of us are reminded of the trauma we survived as a domestic violence victim. It’s a time we remembered witnessing domestic abuse from our parents or immediate family members. According to the National Domestic Violence Hotline, domestic violence is a pattern of behaviors used by one partner to maintain power and control over another partner in the relationship. Domestic violence can look like behaviors that physically harm, intimidate, manipulate or control a partner, or otherwise force them to behave in ways they don’t want to, including through physical violence, threats, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, or financial control. Women between the age 18-24 are at the highest risk for domestic violence. 1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men have experienced some form of physical violence by their partner. This includes behaviors such as slapping, shoving, pushing, biting, and punching. 1 in 7 women and 1 in 25 men have been injured by their partner. 1 in 10 women have been raped by their partner. Did you know that 72% of all murder-suicides involve an intimate partner; 94% of the victims of these murder suicides are female. The presence of a gun in domestic violence situations increases the risk of homicide for women by 500%. Every month, an average of 53 women are shot and killed by their partner. More than half of women killed by gun violence are killed by family members or their partners.

In my previous blog posts, I shared losing my parents to murder-suicide. My father was an abusive man who murdered my mother and committed suicide. I grew up knowing and seeing domestic violence first-hand. I still hear the echoes of my mother’s screams and the beating she took from my father. I can still remember how desperately I wanted to save her but couldn’t because I was afraid of my father too. I made a promise to myself as a little girl that I would never be like my mother who was stuck in an abusive marriage and murdered as a young woman leaving behind 7 helpless children. Who would’ve known that the promise I made to myself was pathetic? Not only did I suffer post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) from domestic violence in my childhood, but also from one of my relationships. Little did I know that I would become like my mother—fighting a silent battle and trying to free myself. But I wasn’t like my mother after all because I didn’t die like her. I fought my way out and lived to tell my story today, to tell my story for the first time because I am a fighter and survivor. I am learning every day to love myself more and make up for the times I didn’t love and protect myself.

The abusive person in the relationship never starts off abusive. In fact, most of them are attractive, charming, and a smooth talker. They make everything seem too good to be true—and it is. Some major red flags for abuse in a relationship are when the abuser has excessive jealousy, lies about small and big things, gets angry and upset easily, gaslights you to make you feel like you are crazy, and doesn’t respect your boundaries (moves too fast in the relationship). I was never attracted to men my age because they always felt too immature for me. However, I realized my attraction to older men is due to the lack of a father figure in my life who I can look up to and respect. This man who I dated and eventually married was my first love. He was 5 years older than me. He also came from a family with domestic abuse. So, he just understood my trauma so well, and knew how to comfort and be there for me. I fell head over heels for this man because he was tall and handsome, everything that I always wanted in a partner. I thought he was perfect, so mature, and romantic. But everything was too good to be true. It wasn’t until one year into our relationship, I started to notice him lying consistently because his stories didn’t add up. Also, he would lose his temper over small things and wanted to be with me only. I started to hang out less and less with my family and friends and became indulged with him because if I loved him, I would do that, right? Things started to happen that triggered my childhood trauma with domestic abuse from my parents. He didn’t lay his hands on me yet, but around me to scare me like punching the walls, breaking glass and mirror, or even hurting himself to make me feel guilty.

Our relationship lasted 10 years. In those years, I suffered…
A black eye,
Slapping to my face,
Biting on my arm,
Pinching my thighs,
Chasing me down in the public,
Degrading me with nasty remarks,
Blaming me for his own problems…

I wasn’t a perfect person myself either. I had my own toxic behaviors too of codependency, self-betrayal, and giving silent treatments. I was good at being distant and cold, which drove him mad even more. I knew it was only a matter of time before he did something worse to me. I couldn’t tell anyone because I was too ashamed and embarrassed. I was afraid to be shamed by my community. I was afraid to be told to go back and “ua siab ntev” which means be patient in Hmong. I was afraid no one would believe me because we’ve been together for so long and looked like a perfect couple from the outside. I was afraid to go to hell because my church told me God hates divorce and would punish me. But I finally found the courage to leave him. We talked for almost a year of separating and he seemed to be understanding and supportive of that decision for us both. Deep inside me, I knew it was too good to be true. I knew he would not let me go so easily. On the night when I was packing all my things to leave, he came home drunk from work. I knew I had to act quick, but it was too late. He finally showed his true colors again and was angry at me for wanting to leave. He blocked the door and didn’t let me leave as we both have agreed on. I was persistent in leaving, and he knew he couldn’t convince me to stay, so he resorted to scaring me with his gun. He took out his handgun and paced quickly around me asking me one last time if I still wanted to leave him.

I shuddered inside with fear, but I had to be strong for myself, so I stood up against him, “THIS is why I am leaving you. My heart left you a long time ago. You can’t force me to stay with you anymore. Please let me go and we’ll talk tomorrow when you’re sober.” With anger, he took his gun and pointed it at my head. He started bawling, “You did this. You made me do this.” I cried because I truly thought my life was going to end at that point. I started praying for God to accept my soul if I died that day. Then he quickly grabbed my hand and made me hold his gun to his head, “Why don’t you just kill me if you want to leave that bad?” We were both crying and wrestling with his handgun back and forth in the living room, then we dropped his handgun by the kitchen floor. I let go of his arms, ran into the bedroom, and locked the door because he was blocking the front door. Thankfully he didn’t grab his gun but banged on the bedroom door for me to open. He was going to break down the door, so I sweet-talked him into calming down and laying in bed together. I lied to him that I’ll stay with him and that I was sorry. He finally stopped banging the door, so I opened the door for him. He cried into my arms and apologized for what he did earlier. I pretended that it didn’t bother me, and that I wanted us to sleep it off. We laid in bed and pillow talk. We both eventually fell asleep, but I was waiting for this opportunity to leave while he was drunk asleep because he is a deep sleeper. I got up, touched his curly hair for the last time, and left for good.

The first year of our separation was the hardest because I had to get used to not having someone there for me physically. I had to get used to being alone, sleeping alone, eating alone, and not having stressors there anymore. When you’re used to trauma and stress, it feels abnormal and restless without it. I also had to get used to people gossiping and talking about me. Add social media on top of that, and suddenly everyone was a part of your marriage. People will say the most hurtful things to you as if they were there to witness everything that happened in your relationship. And even if some people knew what he did, they still victim-blame me for it. I was afraid of going places alone because I was stalked often by him. There were many nights, he would stand outside my bedroom window apologizing, but I knew better to just ignore him. I had to be cruel and pretend that he didn’t exist anymore, so he can believe that I have moved on and was a heartless person. I changed my phone number, so he wouldn’t be able to contact me, but he still found a way to contact me. His apologies and tears didn’t work on me anymore, so he became jealous and angry. My first birthday after our separation, he texted me he had a birthday gift for me. As usual, I ignored him and didn’t reply. But this time he was smart. He used my childhood trauma against me to try to make me come to him. He told me he loved me so much that for my birthday he was going to kill himself the same way my father committed suicide—a self-inflicted gun wound to the head. He said that way I will always remember him. My heart dropped, and I texted him back. He called me, and I picked up. He told me to meet him at our old apartment if I didn’t want him to kill himself, so I agreed. Something in me changed. I knew his mind games all too well, and I was tired of it. Instead of meeting him like I agreed to, I called his brothers, father, and told them what he was planning to do. I also called our pastor who knew about our divorce. I begged our pastor and some elders to check on him because I knew if I went to meet him, one of us or maybe us both might end up dead. They went to the apartment, found him, and talked him out of his suicide. He was upset that I called other people to check on him, so he messaged me that he will get me back for not meeting him. I changed my number again for the second time and never heard from him.

The one question everyone always asks is, “Why don’t she just leave?” I still struggle to answer this question for myself. Why didn’t I just leave when I saw all those red flags when we dated? Why didn’t I just leave when I got married and got hit for the first time? Why didn’t I just leave? Was it the fear of being judged? Was it me staying to honor my marriage for God? Was it because every time he apologized to me, I believed he would change? It was a constant internal war of wanting to leave because it’s the right thing to do, but not leaving because your worth had been demolished to the point where you tolerated abuse and toxicity. You would convince yourself at night that he is changing. You would make excuses for how he treated you because you were not ready to let go of this cycle of abuse either. You didn’t believe you were worthy. You became numb to the pain and trauma, so the next time it happened, it wasn’t too bad. You told yourself that you’re a strong woman who can handle a man acting out from his childhood trauma.

Looking back, it was never my responsibility to heal the wounds he had. We are responsible for healing from our traumas and pain. We cannot use our pain as an excuse for our toxic behaviors. We can’t control how other people treat us, but we can control and remove ourselves from toxic people and situations. Even when it feels impossible, if we just hang onto that ray of hope, we can pull through and find the courage one day to finally leave. Majority of survivors are emotionally detached from their abuser. It’s the physical detachment that is the hardest and takes the longest to do. We can get all the best advice to leave, but if we don’t make that decision for ourselves, it will never happen.

As a friend or family member, how can you support someone you love who is in a domestic abusive relationship?

Educate yourself about domestic abuse. Understand power and control in an abusive relationship and how that affects the victim. When you have a better understanding of domestic abuse, you will show greater empathy and support for your loved one who is experiencing an abusive relationship.

Listen without judging. This is probably one of the biggest struggles many people have because when a victim shares what happened, they often get loaded with advice and judgement. Let them know you believe they are the only person who can make the best decision for themselves. This will give the power back to them. If the victim doesn’t leave on their own terms when they’re ready, they are more likely to return to the abusive relationship.

Don’t mediate in an abusive relationship. The worst thing you can do is provoke the abuser when your loved one is not ready to leave the relationship. You’re doing more harm than good. It will create more complications and less opportunities for your loved one to find support to talk to someone.

Encourage steps to solutions. Let them know they can talk to someone on the hotline or a counselor. Offer a safe place or shelter for them to stay. Create a safety plan and let them know there are programs and resources to help them get out of their abusive relationship.

Practice self-care and healing. Supporting a loved one in an abusive relationship can be mentally and emotionally exhausting and traumatizing. Find time to destress and talk to someone you trust. Create healthy boundaries, so you don’t overwhelm yourself.

So how did I find the courage to finally leave, you ask? Because I realized I didn’t want to die. I still wanted to live. I know if I kept staying with how things were going downhill, I was driving myself to my graveyard. I didn’t want to end up like my mother. I didn’t want to be just another woman who was killed by her intimate partner. One day it just clicked, I freed myself and never looked back. Leaving was the best decision I ever made for myself despite being shamed by my family, the Hmong community, and my church.

Are you reading this, my friend?
Did he make those empty promises to you again?
Did he buy you flowers and apologize again?
Do you wonder when this pain will stop?
Do you cry so much that you no longer have tears dripping down your face? Do you pray to God to take you away?
You have the power to change your life.
You have the power to save your life.
The unknown is far greater than the fear you feel now.
You are worthy of a good life.
You are worthy to be treated with respect and love.
You are worthy to be alive.
If you are looking for a sign to leave your abusive relationship,
this is your sign, my friend.
You are not alone.
You are stronger than you think.
I pray you find the courage to leave your abusive relationship today.

Here is some information and resources.
https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/get-help/state-resources
https://www.thehotline.org/get-help/local-resources/
https://ncadv.org/resources

If you or a loved one is in danger, please call 911 immediately.
For anonymous, confidential help, 24/7, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or 1-800-787-3224 (TTY).
Or you can chat online at https://www.thehotline.org/get-help/

All you need is a little bit of courage,