One night in my 20s the girls and I were headed out to party. I don’t remember where we were going. I don’t remember if we had fun that night. I do remember being on Lincoln Drive and passing a car stopped on the side of the road. There was a couple in front of the car and as we approached he punched her in the face. I pulled over and got out the car.

I walked up to him, then in front of him and told him to keep his hands to himself. I picked her up off the ground and tried to talk to her. I offered to call the police. I offered to put her in my car and take her someplace safe. I offered to beat his ass. She declined all my offers. I eventually left the two of them, because short of kidnapping her there was little else I could do to fix the situation. I couldn’t NOT stop though.

When I got back in the car I got read the riot act. He could have had a gun, he could have beat me, he could have pushed me into traffic, I didn’t know those people etc.

When I lived on Kimball St in South Philly I was awakened one night to a thumping at my front door. Clyde was sleeping soundly, snoring rather loudly and I put on a robe to see what the fuck was happening. I lived next to a drug house, but the people of the house and I had an understanding. They quickly learned that whatever the fuck was happening in their walls did not extend to my walls and other than the time I climb up on the roof and tell the dude hiding from the cops to move it there weren’t issues. When I opened my front door the neighbors from across the street were on my front steps. The thumping was him slamming her head into my security door.

He told me to mind my business, I told him my steps were my business and I picked her up off the ground and put her in my front hallway. He decided that he was not willing to go through me to get her. He knew, shit I knew she would eventually leave. That night I helped her clean her face, I offered her options. She declined them. She would come to me for help twice more before I left Kimball St. I always told her there were conditions, but I still opened the door and never made her meet those conditions.

When I walked into a room and saw someone I loved being choked, I responded. I restrained myself because there was a child in the room, but I also made it clear that in my presence that shit was not going to happen. When I could not talk about what the plan was to deal with that man after the incident I left. That’s the thing. I’ve learned that I can’t save the world, I’ve learned that I need to save myself, and even though this was someone I love I also knew that there would be another time. Perhaps not right away but there would be another time. What I could not do was live on edge waiting for the next time.

My second weekend here on a Saturday morning the girl who lives up the hall knocked on my door. She wanted me to call the police because her boyfriend was beating her. I did. First I had a conversation with him though. He was gone when the police arrived. When they left I had a 1 sided conversation with her. I don’t know if she heard me, he’s back, he was back the next day. I haven’t heard him beat her since, but he’s back. She hasn’t knocked on my door again. But he’s back.

I’m not Ronda Rousey. I can get my ass beat. I’m not Kara from Krypton, I bleed and I’m not faster than a speeding bullet.

Who I am is a woman who can’t sit and watch abuse happen. It happens, and I can’t stop it, but what I can’t do it watch it happen. Over the years I’ve seen this story. Over the years I’ve been trained to intervene and diffuse. Over the years I’ve witnessed and been shown the statistics. Over the years this part of me hasn’t changed. Yes I know that the women I’ve stepped in to assist are likely to return to their abuser. I can’t stop that but what I can do is try to make sure that the one time I am present is not the time he kills her. Hopefully also me.

Yesterday morning I had company, and when I went downstairs to greet him the boyfriend from up the hallway was on the front steps. The boyfriend gave my company and I a wide berth. My company doesn’t know this but he bought me a another few weeks of no knocks on my door. My company is a pretty solid dude, and the thing about men who beat women is that they aren’t interested in squaring up with someone they think they can’t beat. My company did quite a few things yesterday, but he also gave me some space and free time. I’m gonna have to give him a hug the next time I see him.

Aphrodite Brown