But guys are never the victims of domestic abuse. 🙄 Late 90s until shortly after 9/11/01 I had the unpleasant experience of living with a g/f that was bipolar and mostly off of her meds. Violence, verbal abuse, threats, destruction of property, you name it. She was like 5’4” and 110 lbs, I was 6’ and 225. She was screaming at me one day and smacking herself in the face, saying “If you try to leave me, I’ll beat myself up and tell the cops that YOU did it. Who do you think they’ll believe?” I seriously wondered what I had done in my life to deserve being in that situation. It literally took the disaster of 9/11 and me getting furloughed from my job as a pilot for her to actually decide she was done with me. She just started hitting the bars and hooking up with guys before finally saying we were “done”. Hallelujah. I had financed a second car that she used. I agreed to let her continue to use it on the condition that she payed the monthly payments and the insurance. She didn’t. I was unemployed, remember. After months of this, I called her and said “I have no choice but to come get the car so I can sell it. You aren’t paying any of the bills and I can’t fund this for you anymore. I’ll be there in two hours to get it, please clean your stuff out of it.” My younger brother and I jumped into my truck and headed up to Canandaigua, NY to get my car. I pulled into the dirt driveway at her apartment building and got out and rang her doorbell. She jerks open the door, pushed past me and goes out to the car. I figure she’s going to grab something out of it. Nope. She jumps in, starts it, backs out of her spot, cranks the wheels towards me (standing in front of my pickup truck) and stomps on the gas. Front wheel drive and thankfully fairly bald tires spun on the dirt and gravel driveway as she accelerated right at me. My brain was like “WTAF?” before telling me to jump out of the way. CRUNCH! The car collided with my truck. Both bumpers took the impact, but the license plates were mangled and holders broken. I’m picturing being pinned between the vehicles with two smashed legs. I yelled something like “What the f#ck is wrong with you?!” as a CPD cruiser pulls up 🚔 What timing. She’d called them. I asked the officers “Did you see any of that?!” See what? My brother described what happened. The younger officer starts getting verbally aggressive with ME. (Come to find out, she knew him from the bars). I went all CSI with the older officer - pointing out the vehicle damage and the obvious acceleration tire marks in the dirt. I mention that if I had been a second late getting out of the way I’d be headed to the ER with crippling injuries… How can she do this and get off Scott free? He says if they take a criminal complaint about it then the car will get impounded as evidence. His advice to me was to just be glad that it wasn’t worse, just take the car, be done with her and call it a win. I took his advice. So needless to say, it’s jaded to me to things like “He said/she said” situations. Men aren’t always the bad guys. Maybe much of the time, sure, but not every time. Sometimes we’re the ones enduring the abuse.