abused? fuck you.

I graduated from college today (well, unofficially. I get my diploma in December). It’s a momentous occasion for anyone, but after a month of dealing with severe depression, harassment from my ex-boyfriend and the suicide of my next-door neighbor, it was an even bigger deal for me. I’d gone to the police to prevent my ex from having any contact with me. And who do I see in the front row of the audience? Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s the son of the university president. Maybe I was wasting my time by going to the local authorities. 

And I’m trying to wrap my mind around this loud “Fuck you!” from my ex and his family. What kind of sick fuck seats an abuser right where his victim will see him when she walks off the stage with her diploma? There’s no sense to any of it. No sense, and no justice. 

Lately I’ve been noticing this casual attitude toward domestic violence in the evangelical Christian subculture. I was raised and educated in this subculture, and I’ve heard plenty of sermons about marriage and divorce. But I’ve never heard a sermon about domestic abuse. My university is Southern Baptist (I am not, for the record) and in one of my Bible classes, a group of students wrote and defended a paper that said abuse is not grounds for divorce.

So what are Christian women to do? And what are women, who are not Christian but are under a Christian power structure, supposed to do? My abuser was rewarded with a job on campus and a front row seat at my graduation. And now I’m left to wonder how many other women in my class tried and failed to seek justice for abuse, and how many didn’t bother to try because they’ve been taught to be submissive to men. 

Maybe I’ll never know.