He Punched Me In the Stomach! And Some Days I Still Wonder If I’m Partly To Blame

When I dated the man who abused me, I was working on a specific project with a friend and several people I knew. I was choreographing a Fight Scene.

Now, I took Stage Combat classes and conveyed all the rules to everyone involved. Many involved knew these rules already.

Basic Rules Include:

• Feign touching without touching;
• The person receiving the hits is always in charge of the fight (until it switches);
• Go through the movements slowly until comfortable to go faster;
• Retain eye contact;
• Know each other’s signals, etc.

I had gone through the initial moves I had put down on paper with the actors involved, but the duel was incomplete. Everyone chimed in their thoughts and feedback, as well as ideas. I was unsure how to end the duel, as well as about some details in the middle of the duel. I took notes, then went home and back to the writing board to jot down some ideas.

When it came to my abuser — we’ll call him SH (which references the nickname I have for him) — he was so good at the push-and-pull game for affection, that I was at his beck and call whenever he decided he wanted to see me. I was ready to drop everything for him. So I ran to his place as soon as he called me to say to come over.

However, I was on a schedule for that fight scene, so I brought my notes and after some cuddle time, I returned to working on the fight scene.

I stood with my notes, reviewing some movements and doing them in the air to better visualise what I was conceptualising.

SH made some remarks (he always knew how to manipulate me) which prompted me to ask for his help to figure out some moves I should add.

Yeah, I fell right into his trap.

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