the most important thing i have to say

it's about nature, sort of.

Content warning: domestic violence.

Once, many years ago, a man gave me a black eye and then bought me dinner at Duane Park (with a Groupon) to apologize. A gesture befitting his level of guilt.  I knew a woman whose now ex-fiance hurt her so badly she needed 40 stitches. Shards of glass in her arm and face. She has, even now, a Bride of Frankenstein scar braided around her wrist. He would not pay her hospital bills. 

If you listen to only one thing I tell you, listen to this. 

a girl at Duane Park with a lot to learn

People are not who they are in their good moments. Every single person has good moments. I am sure that Stalin, if you met him in a bar in the right mood on the right night, would pay you a genuine compliment and tell you a great joke over vodkas on his tab. Have you heard the one about the bartender who couldn’t count? I’m making that up, of course, but I’m sure it’s true. I’ve never met an evil man without his charms. But no amount of charm—real or imagined—changes who Stalin was. Stalin was a dictator who created the Gulags and assassinated his party members on the suspicion of disloyalty. Stalin is famine, not ice cold vodka and ma’am, I’ve never seen eyes that sparkle as bright as yours do.

The essence of a person, the truth of a person, is who they are regularly in bad moments. Character is how people treat others when they are angry with them, stressed about work, too hungry to think. A man’s character is not on display at a cocktail party, it’s on display when you’re in an argument with him. A man’s character is how he apologizes, how he plans, the consistency with which he communicates. You might go on the most romantic date of your life with someone funny and charming and quick with a compliment and who insists that you order dessert. You might go dancing after and he might walk you home and not even try to come upstairs. If he doesn’t answer a message thanking him for the evening for eighteen hours, even though it’s the weekend and he does not work on weekends, he is someone who ignores you to exert power. That is his essence. The extra dirty martini and witty banter was the facade. 

The people in your life who are kind sometimes—who make you laugh and smile and build you up and then make you feel horrible and insecure and desperate for them to understand your perspective—are people who make you feel horrible. They are bad for you, even if there were good moments. Perhaps, especially, if there were good moments. And those people who mistreat you—those people are smart. Do not allow yourself the delusion of thinking they do not understand the harm they cause. Do not give people credit for idiocy when malice is to blame. 

Learn this lesson from my mistakes. 

a woman with knowledge to share

Have you heard the one about the scorpion and the frog? I’m sure you have. It’s a Russian fable from Stalin’s time. A scorpion needs to cross a river but, being a scorpion, he cannot swim. So the scorpion asks a frog to swim across with him on his back. The frog says no, because if the scorpion stings him he will die. But then the scorpion, who is not without his charms, points out that if he stings the frog during the swim they’ll both die.  The frog agrees and about halfway across the scorpion stings the frog. As the poison sets in, the frog asks why and the scorpion says, “it’s my nature.” Not everyone has a bad nature but people are their nature, not their, “I need a favor.” 

So what do you do, next time a charming scorpion buys you too many negronis and a very expensive filet and makes a remark about how women should be careful about how many french fries they eat? You have to do the hardest thing in the world. You have to love yourself and leave that scorpion to try his luck elsewhere. You will want to call him, you will want to ask why, you will want to remind him of the promises he broke and the words he said. He doesn’t need reminding, he knows. And there is no real why. It’s just his nature. 

Trust your friends. Your real friends who love you and have your interests at heart. You know the friends I mean. If one of those friends tells you to leave a relationship, you leave. Do not attempt a victory, you won’t get one and if you do it will be pyrrhic. The person who mistreats you understands your point of view, they are just too contemptuous of you to care. I had a friend whose new boyfriend told her he was infertile. He wasn’t. She was pregnant within two months of meeting him and then she miscarried and I said to her, “you need to leave that man right now. This isn’t a red flag, this is a hard stop.” She didn’t, at that time, have the fortitude to take action. Now, whenever she looks at her hand she sees a permanent bracelet of scarred flesh. I don’t believe she has any reason for shame. Leaving is hard, there are always so many happy moments. It never feels as bad as it sounds. People told me to leave the Duane Park guy, too. But I remembered this very funny story he told, about ripping his hamstring trying to impress a girl in college, and I knew that he made a great manhattan and I thought he’s not all bad. That first black eye was not my last. 

Respect yourself and when you cannot respect yourself, have the courage to behave as if you do. Look in the mirror and stare until you see the nine year old you were, the one who believed in fairytales and happy relationships and being treated with dignity. When you can’t leave for yourself, leave for her. A man who hits you is not the only man worth leaving. Leave when someone does not treat you the way that child who is still a part of you deserves to be treated. I promise you, there are good people out there who will treat you with respect, there are people out there who will cherish you. Stop letting people make you feel small, you have that power, you were born with it.  

Have you heard the one about the scorpion and the frog? 

I love you, when I cannot do something for myself, I do it for you. I really mean that. 

With my whole heart, 

Hannah Dale Thompson Stella