Gimme Shelter

I wanted to write something funny and adorable today.  But Ray Rice wouldn’t let me.

By now, I’m sure you’ve all seen the above video of him delivering a left cross knockout punch to the head of this then-fiancée and now-wife Janay.  (They got married the day after Rice was indicted on a charge of rendering her unconscious.)

Ever since the video tape of him clocking her – and then hauling her body out of the elevator like a leaden sack of potatoes- hit the Internet, a tidal wave of scorn, anger and revulsion has surrounded the N.F.L.

The backlash of indignation has even threatened Roger Goodell’s hallowed and noli me tangere position as commissioner of the N.F.L.  His original two-game, slap-on-the wrist suspension caused outcry from feminists around the world.

Their protests were soon echoed by the sports fans who respect women, the Radisson Hotel chain, (who became the first business to drop their sponsorship of an N.F.L. team) Covergirl Cosmetics, Anheuser-Busch, Rutgers University (Rice’s alma mater), Dick’s Sporting Goods, and the White House.

Of course, all this public disapproval got me thinking.

And I’m jealous.

Yep, jealous of Janay Rice.  You see, I was a victim of what is so euphemistically referred to as “domestic abuse.”  But you can’t see my injuries.

And no one ever did anything to stop it.

Or him.

Maybe it was because the kind of ill-treatment I suffered never left a physical bruise.  And of course, there wasn’t any video of what happened to me.

And I don’t have scars.  (At least not the kind you can see.)

My abuser was a different kettle of fish altogether.  He didn’t wound with his fists or a belt. He did it with indiscriminate cheating, threats of divorce, scorn, contempt, indifference, control. Bullying in every possible way.

Mental abuse so pervasive that it left its victim doubting her own right to exist.

It didn’t end when I left him, either.

Every once in awhile, I catch a glimpse of him laughing and joking and grinning his big, shit-eating grin, and I see he has fooled others into thinking he’s a terrific guy.

I just shake my head.

But it makes me sick- all over again.

Hey, Ray.  I’ve got a guy I’d like you to meet.

(And I know a great elevator where you two can get acquainted.)