I spent the summer wondering whether one of the most important women in my life was alive.
A thousand miles away, I felt impotent, and all I could do was spend the days between her phone calls praying to a God I stopped believing in a long time ago.
To me, this woman was a force of nature. She grew up in Africa and told me stories about getting lost in the countryside in a Land Rover, being interrogated by border police and surviving malaria.
When I've felt weak in my life, I've thought about her strength, and found the will in myself to persevere.
And then suddenly, I found myself needing to be strong for her.
She'd been involved in an emotionally and occasionally physically abusive relationship for over seven years. It started with the man's dominance in conversation: he insisted he was right, he refused to discuss some issues they didn't agree on, he insulted her opinions.
As time progressed, he became more aggressive, but before she realized anything was seriously wrong, she moved in with him and became financially dependent on him.
Arguments started to end with slaps. Insults became vicious tirades on her character and worth as a woman.
And she started to believe there was something wrong with her. She thought that there was some kind of breakdown in communication between them, and if she could just get him to talk about it, or go to couples counseling, everything would be OK.
Periodically, he would beat her so badly that she would make up her mind to leave him. She would pack a bag and go stay at a friend's house, but she was embarrassed to be living on someone else's charity. Not having any significant income of her own soon brought her back to him.
This summer, the years of abuse culminated in a blow to the back of the head that caused a concussion and required stitches. It was the last straw for me.
I had worried for the whole course of their relationship what my role was in advising this woman, and how I should walk the line between encouraging her when she wanted to leave and outright demanding that she go.
Finally, I told her over the phone to pack a bag and go stay in a hotel.
I insisted on it. Because of her love for me, she agreed. I insisted that she not go back there alone. Because of her love for me, she agreed.
She found a job in a different state and bought a gun to protect herself, but the emotional damage that man did to her with his words and his fists won't heal for a long time.
This woman is not alone in her struggle. According to the National Domestic Violence Hotline, 4 million American women are assaulted by a partner in a year, and three women are murdered by their husbands or boyfriends every day. Around the world, one out of three women has been abused.
These numbers are staggering, and for a long time, I didn't understand them. I didn't understand why anyone would stay with someone who would hurt them.
Now I think that I do. We're conditioned to believe that love is the only thing worth living for, and when it goes wrong, we're reluctant to let go of it. We're brought up to think that if we just try hard enough, we can make something work.
When an abused partner finds out that's not the case, they need resources to be able to leave their situation. And if their relationship has caused them to alienate their friends and they don't have a bank account of their own, it's hard to know where to turn.
I've made a promise to myself after watching my friend suffer. If I'm ever hit by a man I'm involved with, then the relationship is over.
I know that if that time comes, it will be hard, but I also know that my life is worth more than any relationship ever will be.
Please celebrate October as National Domestic Violence Awareness Month by educating yourself about the facts and resources available. Contact Hanna at hanna.ricketson@asu.edu.
