The Beating by Estela Caballero

Domestic violence is one those things you can’t fully understand unless you live through it.  This was a lifetime ago and my escape gave way to a new future.  Here’s the thing.  The last thing a person in an abusive relationship needs is judgement. They know it’s not right.  Since I began sharing my own personal experience I have heard from women that have careers and are well respected in their fields to women working in the field.  Some will leave, some will not.

I did but not without a loss that will be with me forever.  Once upon a time—


The Beating by Estela Caballero

Ever impossible

Thickness of night

Hit me again

With all of your might

I’m alive

Not your property

I’m alive

I can fight

Long sleeves and a smile

Hide our lovely night

Restart the ritual

Tell me you’re right

Say sorry, beguile

The last that I prayed

Was for life but not mine

It started, a whisper

Like wind in the trees

Within me beat hearts

My own, times three

In silence I screamed

Within me grows now

A new great start

And your final bow

Ever impossible

Watch what I say

This isn’t a life

You’ve had a bad day

A fear stirs within me

Great starts fade away

Two little starts

I never could say

You’ll be safe little babies

Till the end of my days

Question the logic

Judge what you don’t know

I’m haunted by knowledge

That you’ll never know

Ever impossible

Step into the light

This little girl no longer hides

Hit me again

It will take all of your might

Photography and work on is original work by Estela Caballero unless otherwise stated.

6 thoughts on “The Beating by Estela Caballero”

  1. Very sad, but you were smart to get out. My mom left her husband in the early 1930’s, which wasn’t really done back in those days, in those days women stayed, but I was proud of my mom for having the courage to leave with her tiny first born.


  2. Thank you laflor 🙂 It’s a hard story to tell but I believe that sometimes hearing that others have went through the same thing can help– maybe even give someone a small ray of hope.



  3. Reblogged this on 4utu and commented:

    Domestic violence exists comfortably in the shadows. It gains strength like so many other ills– through a false sense of comfort. “It happens to them and they are nothing like me.”

    I’m like you. I’m like them. There are countless that can’t scream. I know, it happened to me.



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