October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month. It’s also a time for haunted houses and houses of terror…perhaps a chilling metaphor and reminder of what domestic violence is all about.
When I first learned it was National Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I was a bit calloused to it. Without being flippant, I thought, “Why does this matter?” Why should this change my life at all? But, that’s just it…I’ve been fortunate enough where my life hasn’t been changed dramatically because of domestic violence. Consequently, it seems simple enough to go on with my life, under the pretense that all is well in my home and the homes around me. But, unfortunately, when domestic violence enters the picture, homes that should be safe places of refuge, renewal, and growth, become houses of horror…an appropriate October reminder of the dreadfulness of domestic violence.
I don’t go to haunted houses. I don’t like them. I don’t like feeling scared. I don’t like feeling uneasy. I don’t like putting myself in threatening—even when fabricated—situations. I prefer inner serenity and light over dread and darkness.
But, one night I found myself in a real-life house of horror. I was trying to sleep as a guest in a very safe home, a home that had been opened up to another couple to spend the night. But I couldn’t sleep…the couple in the adjacent room was arguing: “You don’t love me…If you loved me, you would…life is not worth living if you don’t love me…I’m going to leave tonight and if I’m dead in the morning, you’ll know why…” I didn’t want to move, or speak, or breathe, out of fear of the unknown…would I somehow be in danger? Would I be an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time? Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes seemed like hours. The light of dawn couldn’t come soon enough. My heart pounded in uncertainty, choking my breath…would he really be dead in the morning? Would she be hurt? If he’s unstable enough to threaten his own life, is he unstable enough to threaten hers? As a social worker, I had heard stories of fear and violence in the home, but this was the first time I had experienced what it was like—on a small scale—to be 5 feet away from it. I was an adult, but I felt vulnerable like a child, and wanted to hide. But there was no place secure enough to go. And even if I were physically safe, there seemed like no way to keep myself emotionally out of harm’s way.
I would not wish this circumstance on anyone, but I’m grateful for the small insights the experience offered me. I learned that homes can be safe havens or silent hells, and for those who suffer daily the hellish nightmares of houses of horror and domestic violence, I feel deep sorrow. When October ends, their haunted houses don’t. There is a better world than that, and I know it because I’ve lived it and seen it hundreds and thousands of times over.
As we go about our October month, and see the haunted houses, the ghosts and goblins, and all the commercial trimmings used to celebrate deceit and death, I hope each of us will take a moment to consider these as reminders of a sad reality that is anything but “just pretend.” When domestic violence enters a home, that home becomes a house of horror; the ghosts of abuse, violence, and mistreatment follow their victims for years; deceit abounds as perpetrators try to cover themselves, and victims try to protect themselves and the perpetrators; and death may well be the result—if not of a body, of a vibrant life and a soaring spirit. Think about it, and then do something. Celebrate National Domestic Violence Awareness Month by being a little kinder, more patient, and more expressive of love in your own home. Seek help if you need it. Provide help where you can. Amidst a celebration of death, find a way to celebrate growth, and budding life, and bigger hopes in a society where everyone can live in a safe place…a place of love, a place of peace, a place of perpetual emotional security…a place worthy to be called “home.”