The city stepped in to protect my kids and me.
Until a few years ago, I was living with a man who terrified me and our children with his jealousy and violence. I met him a few months after I came to the United States from Mexico, in May, 1992. The day after I arrived in this country I began to work in a clothing factory in New York City. There I met a man who I never imagined would become abusive.
I Felt So Helpless
Soon after meeting him I went to live with him. He prohibited me from everything. I couldn’t have friendships with anyone. I couldn’t linger at the store. I knew it wasn’t a good situation, but by then I was pregnant. When three months had passed, he began to beat me. I felt so helpless. At that time, my ignorance was so deep that I believed that I loved him and had to protect him.
Now I look back and feel guilty for having permitted the beatings by not leaving. I blame myself for being ignorant, for believing that he would change, for accepting him as my partner although he treated me badly. But in truth, it was not my fault he hit me. Many times we argued over our finances, because he didn’t like to work, although we soon had two children to support. When I worked, that bothered him a lot. On two occasions he grabbed me by the hair as I was leaving for work, and once he got in my face and told me, “I dare you to leave this house. If you do it, I am going to break your face.” “And why don’t you get out of bed and go find yourself a job?” I said. “It’s your responsibility as a father to go out and work.” “Who are you to tell me what to do?
Why do you want me out of here— so you can go out with other guys?” When I went to the check cashing place, he took the money right out of my hands. I’d say, “This money isn’t yours!” But he hit me when I tried to keep it from him. He’d say, “Shut your mouth. All you want to do is argue and argue about everything.”
