One single blow to the face fueled by months of pent up frustration and resentment and it felt like my face had just exploded. We both stood there shocked and stunned by what had just happened. There was blood everywhere. The hospital called the police who did little to hide their disinterest. To them this was probably just another domestic. That was until they learnt the ethnic origin of the perpetrator and their attitudes changed. Pressure was put on me to prosecute. I couldn’t see the point. The damage was done and I knew I would not allow it to happen again. My dream of domestic bliss and regular family life was over.
I embraced single parent hood which was not without its struggles. To provide for my family I forged an unexpected career and put all my energies into creating the best life possible for me and my children.
27 years later and I am occasionally reminded of my facial imperfection by a glimpse of a reflection, photograph or an occasional comment. I can afford to smile to myself now when I recall what a defining and empowering moment it turned out to be and how it totally changed my life journey.