Wednesday, May 23, 2012


I’m looking at the large, lovely bruise on my arm from a blood draw gone wrong and thanking God I’m not a battered woman.

So many of them have to hide or lie about the bruises, abrasions, stitches, broken bones, and fear imposed on them by their batterer. They use makeup, long sleeves, good acting ability, whatever they can, adding stress to already having to live with someone who thinks he has the right to expect perfection.  

And the right to punish imperfection.

Wish we could put these guys to sleep and cover them with all kinds of marks including a tattoo that says “Sadist” or “Stupid” on their neck or somewhere it cannot be hidden and is very difficult to joke about or explain away.

I’d say it’s time they felt uncomfortable.

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