“Learn your Place” – not your typical Valentine’s Day story

This is a reblog that I posted back in 2014….

It was Valentine’s Day (sometime in the late 90’s) and since I had recently been dumped I was looking at a depressing evening at home alone.  Weighing my options I decided to go out for a couple drinks instead of staying in and consuming the ice cream consolation prize I had purchased earlier that day.

I wore the brand new, milk chocolate colored silk blouse I had bought to wear on a date that was not to be.  Screw it!  I was only going to the dive bar that was within stumbling distance of my apartment but might as well look nice.

I wasn’t there long when I noticed this big, burly guy who was just being an all-around jerk to his date.  Negative comments and general snarkiness then out of nowhere he backhands her across the face so hard that she flies into the wall.  He snarled “I said get me a beer!”  The thing is she was…she just didn’t move fast enough to suit him.

I looked around in wonder as no one, absolutely no one, made a move to do ANYthing.  I went over there without really thinking and said something really scathing (I’m sure it was, really) like “Get a life, Big Man!”  I don’t really remember what I said in all honesty but he told me I needed to learn my place and she (the woman being abused) told me to mind my own business.  Incredible.

I made my way back to my bar stool and ordered a fresh drink.  The bartender asked what I had said to the guy and said well “if looks could kill” and warned me that he was “boring holes” through my back.  I said “Oh, well… maybe he will leave her alone while he glares at me.”

And…that was that.  Nothing else transpired.

A couple drinks and a couple hours later I decided to go out for some fresh air because the cigarette smoke that permeated the place was burning my eyes.  I walked outside and leaned against the brick wall and closed my eyes. That was all it took… just a couple of seconds with my guard down.  He was there.  I never heard him come out but he was right in front of me. Ripping my shirt open, clawing at my neck, spitting venom in my face, “Bitch, I’ll show you your place” as he tried to push me behind the dumpster, to the pavement littered with broken beer bottles.  It became alarmingly clear exactly what he meant to do.  Exactly how he was going to show me my place. I wouldn’t, couldn’t let that happen.  Never Again.

I struggled to break free but he was too big, he was overpowering me.  I pulled my knife.

The knife I thought I would never use.  My best friend had given me this knife and insisted I learn how to use it…made me practice opening and using it, stabbing cardboard.  I thought it was ridiculous and only went through the motions to humor him.

Now his words echoed through my head, “Only pull it if you are going to use it.”

This guy wasn’t afraid though.  He laughed when I said “Don’t make me” and sneered “Like you are going to use it.”  He lunged at me and in the seconds before his fist met my face I stepped forward to meet him and plunged the entire blade into his stomach and twisted it before pulling it back out.

I’ll never forget the look of disbelief on his face as he reached down and felt the blood gushing through his shirt.  He said “What did you do that for?”

It was then people decided to step in to break things up.  I don’t know when people had come out but suddenly someone was taking my knife from me (which was easy enough as I was just holding it loosely staring at the blood, his blood on my hand.)  People were looking and talking and Douchbag was yelling about calling the cops.

I went inside, holding my shirt closed with one hand, and walked directly behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of vodka to douse my hand.  Then I called a cab and paid my tab and slipped out the back.  The cab got there before the police…

The next few days were agonizing.  I knew I had acted in self-defense but I had left the scene.  I had no idea what had happened after I left.  I also knew that all knife and/or bullet wounds that showed up at the ER had to be reported to the police.  I kept waiting for a knock at the door.

Then one day at work I saw my bartender of all people walking down the hall towards me.  It was surreal; I had never seen him outside of the bar… not to mention in the light of day.  He told me that when I left the guy had come in to use the phone to call the police.  He had told him that it wouldn’t be a problem but needed to do one thing first.  Then he got on the loudspeaker (normally reserved for “Last Call” announcements) and said everyone who saw this guy beating up on his girlfriend and then attacking Melanie please come to this side of the bar.”  The ensuing crowd of witnesses effectively dissuaded the call to police.

So that was that.  My knife had been cleaned and was returned to me.  As far as what happened to Douchbag… he lived.   From what we heard later he got stitched up by a friend who was a doctor.

And I, gentle reader, for a short time, was seen as a bit of a bad ass… and my drinks were free.

•

Melanie Thomason

***Note this was long ago and I no longer go to bars and very, very rarely get in fights. 😉 Though I do still carry a knife just in case I need it.

no amnesty

youth, like delicate petals,

crushed under boot

innocence lost

but something else took root

words and hands

left a lasting impression

being born

was her only transgression

though her trust and body

were both betrayed

in her heart

was born this crusade

to speak for those

who haven’t the choice

to see the truth

and give it voice

Hear this, predators:

whether stanger, “friend” or “family”

For your crimes

there will be no amnesty!

~Melanie Thomason

reblog from 2014

Blue Period ~NaPoWriMo Day20

Art work by the talented and fabulous Gigi of Rethinking Life.

His fist paint the canvas of her skin in shades of black and blue and purple

The yellows and greens of his past works add contrast and texture

She is living on borrowed time;

by all rights, he could have killed her a thousand times over by now

Her self-esteem and self-worth is threadbare,

she is held together by stitches:

the good moments, the sweet words, apologies and promises,  

and the laughter they had shared…

She allowed the good, albeit rare, to outweigh the bad;

let them blind her to the reality of his lack of humanity

Her loneliness, her silence, her worries, excuses and justifications

play as a symphony of sorrow

They are both artists in their own right,

but which of them will survive this ‘blue period’?

~Melanie Thomason

4/20/2020

 

With words that must be said?

So a few times lately I’ve seen comments and posts about the validity of all the different Awareness of this and Prevention of that days, weeks or months…

… is it needed?  Does it matter? Is it only preaching to the choir to post these things here? Does it make a difference?

I will answer to all of the above: YES and NO!

April, as I’ve already posted about a few times now, is Child Abuse Prevention Month AND Sexual Assault Awareness Month. It is sad that these issues need months set aside to talk about them but I’m glad for whatever light can be shone.  I personally think these are issues that we should talk about all the time…until they no longer exist.  Violence against women and children haven’t gone anywhere.  Ageism, Sexism, and all the other isms haven’t gone anywhere. So yes we still need to talk about them.

Truthfully, talk alone isn’t enough.  Each of us needs to take action as well.

I shouldn’t have to tell anyone that they shouldn’t hurt other people, right?  No child should ever be abused, right?  Yet, look around.

Women and children are beaten everyday. Yes, men are abused as well and that is not ok either. It is just that the majority of the time abuse is directed at women and children, STILL, and that pisses me off.  It should piss you off too!

Rape is not a thing of the past.  It also often isn’t a stranger but someone the victim know and should be able to trust.  We shouldn’t have to tell anyone that No does not mean yes…that consent is ABSOLUTELY necessary.  That victim blaming is not acceptable and it doesn’t matter what someone is wearing!

It goes beyond that of course… not only should you not hurt people (yourself or others) or participate with those who do,  you also shouldn’t be a silent bystander.

If you cannot get personally involved (and sometimes you shouldn’t)…at the very least say something to those who can.

IF, you know someone who is being abused, speak up.

Remember, the smallest action on your part could make a life and death difference.

IF, you know someone who is an abuser, speak up.

One of the ways we can make a difference is by not accepting this behavior.  We have to let the perpetrators know this is not ok.

When friends and family turn a blind eye this makes both the abuser and the abused feel that what is happening is acceptable.  Break the cycle.  Educate yourself and please educate your children.

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” -Edmund Burke

 

~Melanie Thomason

 

 

 

let my soul shine

dirty, dark urges

stole all of my firsts

I was too little,

too young

to fight

how could I

let my soul shine

bruised and bleeding

doubting

my worth

feeling deserving

of my poor,

white

plight

how could I

let my soul shine

foul, muscled hands

muffled my cries

in the night

somehow I knew to

let my soul shine

living in darkness

that tried to

smother

all light

I had to try to

let my soul shine

i couldn’t make them love me

try

as I might

still, I had to

let my soul shine

from my family’s cage

at fourteen,

this bird

finally

took flight

to freely

let my soul shine

⊗

~Melanie Thomason

reblog from 2014

To say I felt an emotional connection with Maya Angelou’s poetry would be an understatement.  

The above poem is my meager tribute to a phenomenal woman. I leave you with a quote.

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.”

― Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter

hush now

image from Pixabay

hush now

no one wants to hear

keep it to yourself

don’t air our dirty laundry

what would the neighbors think?

hush now

don’t cry

we are all big boys and girls

crying is for babies

or in the dark of night all by yourself

hush now

don’t speak

some truth might just slip out

we wouldn’t want that

now, would we?

~Melanie Thomason

Reblog from 2015

was it her fault

Image by Concord90 from Pixabay

Did she ask for it?

was her skirt too short?

her top too tight?

too revealing?

did her eyes say yes, while she said no?

was it her fault because she had the nerve to be at that party?

or out alone?

or drinking?

Did she ask for it?

Did it make you feel like a big man?

to take what wasn’t yours?

to use fear and control and body parts as weapons?

Did she ask for it?

Did she want her life forever altered?

or was it You?

 

~Melanie Thomason

reblog see original here

 

 

 

 

child prostitute

With that in mind I am re-blogging something I wrote in 2014.

 

Caged Butterfly from Deviant Art

innocence

lost,

stolen

and sold

a child

left sullied

and shamed

—

continue

the trade

’cause it is all

that they know

think it is all

they are good for..

are they really to blame?

—

then THEY are arrested

and charged as criminals?!

why

do we

victimize

the

victim?

why

do the headlines say

“Child Prostitute”

like it was their choice?

…insane

—

~Melanie Thomason

reblog from 2014