Scars That Don't Heal

I should have weaved but instead I bobbed. I was too busy trying to avoid a punch and managed to time meeting my left cheek with a 4th Dan's quick jab. I got a pretty good "Shine-ah" (insert Audrey's voice from The Little Shop of Horrors)
At first, I was rather proud of surviving it without passing out or crying. (Misting-up doesn't count!!) But on the drive home, I kept asking myself why was I considering this a 'badge of honor' or a 'battle scar'? The punch stunned me. Time stopped at the initial sting and spinning behind my eyelids. I had never been hit in that manner and knew that if that punch had been full force, I probably wouldn't have stayed conscious, muchless on my feet. ...so why was I so proud?...

In 2001, I worked in a sports bar in Oklahoma. I started as a waitress and soon moved up to multiple positions within the establishment. A lady started working there shortly after me. She began as a waitress but a few weeks later became the assistant manager. (It was a small dive place with extrememly high turnover). She was a very nice woman. A bit stout in stature...not a waif by any means. She would be considered of the 'big-boned' variety. She was married with two kids. She was separated at the time and lived in the same apartment complex as myself. She was nice enough to invite me into her home for a visit.
Being just a waitress, I wasn't privvy to the work schedule of the managers, but I had noticed that she didn't show up on her usual day. I remember seeing her at work the following day. I assumed she had been ill, as she appeared pale, puffy eyes and lack of expression on her face. But there was something else. When she turned to address someone, she had to turn her whole body...her neck was stiff. I asked her if she was okay and she proceeded to tell me what had happened the day before. Her husband had come over to the apartment and beat her in front of her kids. My heart sank and a fire immediatly burned in my belly.
She didn't go to the hospital due to lack of funds and no insurance. She came to work because she couldn't afford to miss a day's pay. She came to work with a terrible concussion. I offered for her and her kids to stay with me until they could find a way to disappear, but she just smiled and said no.
She let him move into the apartment with her and the kids..to keep the peace, or rather to prevent the death threats. He still beat her...

In the first couple of years of my HapKiDo training, I was on fire to tell people this new thing I had found and that they should try it out. I was especially motivated to tell women. I realize now that I had sought out those that either looked like they could handle the classes or that looked like they could use the classes to build their self-esteem. I recruited about four women. They all stayed for a time, but eventually left for various reasons. I was disappointed...and slightly bitter. Today, as I stood in my bathroom, looking in the mirror, I realized I wasn't trying to help those women. I was trying to help the one woman who didn't want my help. I was so angry at her for not fighting back, for not trying to find a better way. I wanted to fight for her and she wouldn't let me. I have been very lucky to have never been in such a situation. I couldn't fathom the horror.

I no longer look at the bruise on my cheek as a badge of honor. Its just a bruise. It will heal and I'll forget about it when its gone. But, the scar I have carried on my heart for eight years has yet to heal. I can't forget that woman I knew in Oklahoma. I never saw her after I changed jobs. Don't know if she is even alive today. If she is, I'd like her to know that someone in this world would still help her fight if she didn't feel strong enough.