Not To Be Taken Lightly.

I refuse to jump on the Rihanna/Chris Brown story because I do not know all of the facts at hand. There have been few public statements given by the parties involved, and thus I cannot make a proper assessment without having knowledge of the event in its proper context. What I do know, is that physical violence against someone else is very serious, and domestic violence is not something to be taken lightly.

Instead of giving my two cents on a situation that I do not know much about, I have decided to discuss my own experience with domestic violence.

As many of you know, I had my son at the age of 18 and in doing so, I became involved with a man four and a half years my senior. If I knew then what I know now, I would've discovered that the reason why he became interested in a then-17 year old womanchild was the fact that a female of that age can be someone that he could dominate or control. It is not normal in modern times for a 22 year old man to be infatuated with a 17 year old girl, other than pure attraction. The mindset of a 17 year old young woman is not very appealing nor mature. My son's father became obsessed with me because I was moldable like clay and able to be made into the woman that he wanted in his vision. But of course, again, at the age of 17 and 18, I could not (or simply refused to) see the forest for the trees.

The signs of violence began while we were dating. He didn't want me to spend time with other friends, he wanted me to be with him 24/7. Everyday after school, I had to wait about 45 minutes until he got off at 3 so that he could pick me up and take me home. He didn't want me riding the bus or driving my car to school for fear I would drive others or communicate with others. Back then I saw that as love but of course I know that love had nothing to do with it.

One night after an intense fight about his temper, I started to pack my bags to leave. Now mind you, I graduated from high school when I was 17 and my mom and dad were going through a divorce so I was kind of left to do what I wanted, so most nights I would stay at his apartment and I just kind of moved in slowly. Anyway, I told him I was going to go back home and sort things out and he pulled a gun out and put it to his head and said he was going to kill himself if I left. Of course I didn't want to be the cause of his death, so I stayed. Now I know that he was way to vain to off himself, but then I wasn't the wiser.

Then he got me into the whole, I want to you to have my baby thing because he had a two year old son and wasn't allowed to see his son because of drama. I gave in to him because he cried on my shoulder every night and I really thought we were going to be together forever. So I stopped taking the pill and suffice to say, it was downhill from there.

The verbal abuse started. He would call me fat as I gained weight with the pregnancy. He always liked me to wear skimpy items of clothing and as my belly got bigger, I could no longer rock my cute tops and tennis skirts that were in at that time and he would make me feel bad and tell me that I would have to shop at Lane Bryant if I got any bigger. After my son was born, I lost all the weight within two months but he still wasn't satisfied.

One night, I went out with the girls, the first night out since I had had my son, and he acted a fool. He followed us to the club in Tampa and demanded I came home and when I refused, he pulled me in the car, practically dragging me. I didn't get hit that night but the blows started shortly after that.

First it was a push here or a shake there and those became slaps, and then punches and kicks. I remember one night very clearly: New Edition was on a reunion tour with Keith Sweat and my friend won tickets on the radio station to see the concert at Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg. I told him about the concert weeks before, but that night he acted like he didn't know I was going out. He told me he wasn't watching our son and I told him I already made arrangements with his mother to watch him and he snapped. He told me I wasn't going to go anywhere and that he rented movies for us to watch that night. I told him to get out of the bathroom while I was getting ready because there was no way I was missing the concert. I got in the bathtub and he took my curling iron that I had just plugged up and tossed it into the tub. The only thing that saved me from getting electrocuted was the plug was yanked out the wall when he threw it in the tub so there wasn't enough electricity to shock me.

I didn't go to the concert that night.

No one in my family knew of the violence I was going through. It was a scary situation because there were many nights that I thought I was not going to make it. He was always careful to hit me in places that were not visible to the public. Usually my stomach or back. But I can tell you that the verbal abuse was worse than the physical. The bruises always healed but the memory of his words saying the most hurtful things to me would replay over and over.

I didn't feel worthy.

And then a divine intervention occurred. He got arrested for having a unregistered weapon and was in jail for a few days. I took those few days and the money I had saved and my son and I moved into another apartment. He didn't have access or keys. He flattened my tires a few times but there was nothing he really could do to harm me anymore. I wasn't in his control. In order to see his son, we always met at his mom's house or in a public place. I had so much dirt on him that I threatened to call the police if he tried to take my son or harm me in any way.

That was ten years ago.

Now, we are good. Or as good as we can be with our history. I moved away to my hometown and he became involved with another woman and it became HER problem, not mine. I got married and divorced. And he is still struggling with women and relationships. We don't discuss it. It is all about our son during phone calls or visits to Florida. But every once and a while, he apologizes for what he did to me. And our son, because our son did bear witness to many of these events. And he remembers some of them even though he was only two and three years old at the time.

I had to rebuild my self confidence and strength back, but I know what it feels like to be overpowered and bullied by the one that you love and who supposedly loves you. So I do feel for not only Rihanna, but for every victim of domestic or physical violence male or female.

They say time heals all wounds. I would say that that is a correct assessment.