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Voices: Domestic violence - from the boy next door

Sharyn L. Flanagan
USA TODAY
Janay Rice, left, looks on as her husband, Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice, speaks to the media during a news conference in Owings Mills, Md., on May 23, 2014.

"Hitting a woman is not something a real man does, and that's true whether or not an act of violence happens in the public eye, or, far too often, behind closed doors." — Sept. 8 White House statement

We were on the subway in North Philadelphia the first time he hit me. It was an open-handed slap to my mouth. I tasted the blood as he profusely apologized for hitting me in public. He said it was a knee-jerk reaction to me using profanity, even though I was repeating someone else's words. "Ladies aren't supposed to use that kind of language," he said.

I was 22 and with my "dream guy." He was the boy next door — literally lived next door to my family years before. Everyone looked up to him. He had served in the Air Force, was a lead altar boy at church and eventually a Philly cop. Our parents were thrilled we were dating. I wondered how my father would react when he saw my face. When I told him what had happened, my father said, "You brought that on yourself." So, I stayed with him, vowing never to provoke him again.

I've thought a lot lately about the ugly cycle of domestic violence with the Ray and Janay Rice case in the news. So many questioning why she would marry someone capable of rendering her unconscious and then treating her like a rag doll. One psychologist on the radio said she should have sought support from her family and it immediately made me recall my father's reaction to my incident.

Hearing all of these opinions by these experts and analysts made me angry. What if you don't have the support? Why are we looking at her actions, either in provoking him or what she did afterward? Why aren't we asking why he hit her and how to make sure he never does it again?

My abusive relationship ended after the second confrontation while on a trip to Miami. He beat me for falling asleep in the hotel room when I was supposed to be meeting him on the beach for what was to be a surprise marriage proposal. As he punched me, he cried and said, "You're just like all the others. You don't know how to treat a good man when you finally get one."

Sharyn L. Flanagan

As I cried and begged him to stop his barrage, I thought: This man is going to kill me miles away from home and no one could help me. He made sure not to hit me in my face this time. I was bruised and sore and knew I had to keep the peace until safely back home. I called him that night and told him we needed space. He begged for forgiveness, cried and threatened to kill himself. I told him that he needed therapy — not me. He kept trying to contact me, following me at school and showing up at my job with various gifts, but I never took him back. And I never told anyone why.

My mother said as she shook her head, "Why did you mess that one up? He's quite a catch. You need to learn how to keep your mouth shut. Now, someone else is going to scoop him up." Well, someone else did. Years later, he was suspended from the police force for pistol-whipping his wife.

Unfortunately, that wasn't my only experience with domestic violence. I've seen family members and friends go through similar situations. I've seen marriages where it was a regular thing. Some where the woman routinely abused the man as well. I've seen couples make it past the abuse, get help and stay together, too.

But I would never put up with it after the first time: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Sadly, it's not that cut-and-dried for everyone.

Flanagan is a USA TODAY copy editor and proud Philadelphian.

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