Violence against women is rarely seen. Instead, it is a fungus growing in the dark of curtained bedrooms, Lisa Scott writes.
Wednesday was White Ribbon day, the one day when we pause to consider the one in three women experiencing violence in the home, the 14 on average killed each year by partners or ex-partners and the more than 3500 convictions recorded against men each year for violence to women - essentially, the one day we stop and think about those who are abused on this, and every other day of the year.
This started me musing on the only violence towards woman I've ever witnessed in my life, which was to me, and followed swiftly by a devastating kick to the balls.
The truth is (and this isn't victim-blaming so cease your sternly worded letter of complaint) I'm not the victim type. Not for me the inadvertent flinch at loud noises, the hunched shoulders, the frightened scuttle homeward through dark streets that we are told marks us out as prey to human beasts, just as the sound of a timid doe stepping hesitantly through a forest zings in the teeth of a dog.
No, I'm too loud, too bolshie, too sarcastic (women-haters loathe sarcasm, it confuses them), generally not an easy target. I wouldn't go quietly but punching and screaming and mocking the size of your willy. And so say all of us: we strong women, we liberated, educated, privileged females championing our right to be heard, our freedom to judge.
Plus, all the men I have ever met: from my beautiful, gentle grandfather Anthony Burrell to the death metal musicians and flames-and-skulls-tattooed Slayer fans of my 20s; the surfers and hippies, artists and roofers of my 30s, not one of them liked to hit women. And that's who perpetuates violence towards women, men who like to hit them.
Men only ever do things that please them (that's why they call it a patriarchy); they are amoeba-like creatures with a basic hierarchy of needs: food, shelter and giving her the bash sums it up for some. So, by this reasoning, you can simply choose the company you keep and stay safe from violence towards you. Phew! Make poor choices, however, reap the sorrowful benefits of black eyes and broken noses. Marry the wrong man, you've made your bed. You can lie in it when you get home from the hospital.
If only it were that straightforward. I'm friends with women who were thumped and controlled for years by the father of their children, I just didn't find out about it till afterwards, when they told me.
I knew Sophie Elliot, and her murderer, and the fact that he had been abusing her behind closed doors came as a complete surprise. As did the fact that she, a dedicated scholar, an over-achiever, a rocket of career possibility could be taken down by such a loathsome little narcissist, a creep, a nothing.
Was this ''unknowing'' wilful ignorance or blinkered vision born of fear of being called upon for help we are reluctant to give? A terror of getting involved, least we be turned upon ourselves, as happens to so many good Samaritans. And what if we've got it wrong? All couples fight. Intervene and call out abuse where none exists, you risk the approbation of both. Although, better your embarrassment than someone else's death, I think.
This week politicians from left, right and green stood as ambassadors, wore white ribbons and signed pledges to never commit, condone or remain silent about violence towards women, but they may as well have been signing a pledge against plaque.
Violence against women is rarely seen (it would be a very foolish abuser indeed who publicly aired his dirty laundry, although recent studies show passers-by would still pass by). Instead it is a fungus growing in the dark of curtained bedrooms, a virus whose reasons are hidden in the rat-brains of the abuser and results under the makeup-covered bruises of the abused. It is the wicked twisting of the happy octopus tentacles of love into strangling coils of hatred and could happen to any one of us, no matter how bold, how wide-eyed, how clever.
Of course we don't condone it and no-one, surely, would remain silent about it knowingly, but how to see it? Please, if you are being hurt and I can help, tell me. I'm not turning a blind eye. I'm not indifferent to your suffering. I just don't know.
FOR HELP
• If someone is in danger, police or Child, Youth and Family should be contacted immediately.
• Visit www.areyouok.org.nz for information, resources and services on family violence or call 0800 456 450.
Other contact numbers:
• Citizens Advice Bureau 0800 FOR CAB (0800 367 222)
• Shine 0508 SHINEE (0508 744633)
• Jigsaw 0800 228 737
• PlunketLine 0800 933 922
• National Network of Stopping Violence Services 0800 478 778
• Women's Refuge 0800 733 843
