This postcard is from PostSecret, mailed in anonymously by someone you or I will probably never meet. Or it could be someone you and I know well. Anyway, it was my favorite from Sunday because I know. I felt the image inside me. I hope the person who sent it in finds a safe and peaceful life.
I was beat up exactly once, about six years ago. The worst part was standing there, outside his house with the cops (one cop with him, one cop with me) and deciding right then whether or not I wanted to press charges. I was told he’s be going to jail anyway, for an outstanding DUI warrant.
I said no.
The next day, I had to go to the police office. They sat me in a very cold room and a female officer came in to take pictures of my cuts and bruises. I had to pull down my pants for one of them. It was weird. Especially because I kept thinking that it was at least partly my fault.
He did go to jail that night and stayed for three days or so. During that time, a wonderful young woman at Defensa de las Mujeres helped me sort things out, and get a restraining order.
I had to write a letter to the judge explaining why I thought I was in danger. The judge approved it and the woman at Defensa de las Mujeres said I did a good job.
A few days later I got a phonecall from the DA. I let it go to voicemail. She wanted to press charges. I never called her back. Sometimes, I wish I had.