Why the heck do men hit?

Let's ask the right questions about domestic violence

According to the National Coalition on Domestic Violence, nearly 20 people per minute are physically abused by an intimate partner in the United States. So, while you read this essay, that's about 120 people who have been socked, slapped, bruised, kicked, or worse.  A helluva lot more were probably threatened, cursed at, demeaned, ridiculed, and in general, treated like shit.

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month and while that immediately makes us think of women -- think Farrah Fawcett in “The Burning Bed” -- it's men too, and disabled persons, elders, and of course, children.

Every nine seconds -- with almost nine million children as traumatized and scared witnesses, an act of domestic violence occurs in our country.  These children, more often than we would like to think, grow up to tragically relive and repeat the violence as adults by either becoming abusers or allowing themselves to be abused.  And the cycle continues.

But adult victims of domestic abuse are, by far, women.            

The pandemic has only worsened the situation.  Earlier this month, the state where I spent most of my growing up years -- Ohio -- reported a 62% spike in domestic slayings. Yes, you read that right. A very sad lot of them were children, but the majority were women.

Everybody's always seeking answers on domestic violence, but nothing's going to change until we change the questions we ask.

Forever, over and over, the question most people ask after they hear about another woman killed, or they read a story about a woman fleeing to a safe house or crisis center in the middle of the night, is this:

"Why doesn't she just leave?" 

But the question all along that has begged to be asked is the only question that matters and the only one that will get to the heart of the matter:

"Why does he hit, hurt, and harm?"

Men, elders, and children are treated sympathetically if they're abused -- and they should be -- but judgment against women who don't get out immediately or "fast enough" can be pretty harsh.

The harsher truth is that as a culture we're still very mired in finding fault with the female victims of domestic abuse.

• "Why would she put up with that?

• "Why did she allow that?"

• "Why didn't she call the cops?"

• "Why didn't she hit him back?"

• "I would never let that happen to me."

If only it were that simple. 

Just think of the old story about boiling frogs -- you put them in water and they think, yay, I've got a lovely pool to splash around in!  Then, slowly, very slowly, with regular intervals of gaslighting, and the occasional tossing in of a lily pad to cling to, the person they love starts turning up the heat. Imperceptibly at first, with apologies along the way, and sometimes for brief stretches, even lowering the temperature.  It's all unpredictable and confusing.

By the time a frog -- even the smartest, healthiest, strongest frog -- realizes she's got to jump the hell out, she finds her legs are goners --  boiled into oblivion.  

Imagine jumping with no legs.

For a woman, access to housing, transportation, money -- those are the “hard” legs of getting out safely.  Women are at greater risk of being injured or killed whenever they try to leave.  Just the threats of violence alone can deter someone who's already terrified 

The “softer” legs are actually more difficult to get. It can take some women years to work up the courage or line up the help or resources to leave -- particularly if the abuse doesn't happen every day -- and some women are blinded or misguided for long stretches of time by feelings of loyalty and love.  Very often, they've simply become paralyzed by fear and a decimated sense of self-worth, which is precisely what abusers count on.  

For other women, their spirits become so broken they never escape.

The culture of judgment "out there" affects both women who have trouble leaving — perversely causing them to stay with their abusers because if they get out and it becomes known, “what will people think?” But it also affects the women who do successfully leave.

Countless women have courageously transformed their lives from victimization to victorious independence.  And that changes the lives of their children – allowing them to go on to create lives where they are treated – and treat others – with respect and compassion. 

But when they -- if they even dare -- tell others what they experienced at the hands of their abusers, they're quite often met with the same old question, "Why didn't you leave the first time it happened?" It may not be a body blow, but it’s a question that hurts almost just as much.

Until we have the same compassion and understanding of the deep vulnerability and fear and many times lack of resources that women experience across all socio-economic levels  -- like we have for children, elders, and disabled persons -- until then, we're actually contributing to the deep and hidden culture of domestic violence — and we’re unintentionally contributing to some of the reasons women stay and also to why they don’t talk about their abuse even long after they got out.

Women who are being abused or who have been abused don't need yet another person judging them in their lives.  And men who hurt women are never going to be motivated to change when all they hear in society is a question that implies that it's the woman's fault for being there in the first place.

If we want to stop domestic violence against women, we need to stop asking women "Why don't you just leave?" and instead ask men:

Why don't you just stop?

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Thanks — as always — for reading!