football team. Terrell is in eighth grade and runs
the mile in track.
Evenings mean cooking dinner, taking care of the dogs, helping with homework, and
doing laundry.
“There are some times,” she says, laughing, “I’ll look at Allen and say, ‘Is it too
early to go to bed?’ And he’s like, ‘Honey, it’s six forty-five.’ We’re typically
in bed by eight thirty or nine o’clock.”
Amy’s life now is a far cry from her former life. She says the topic of those dark
days almost never comes up. Her parents never bring it up, nor do her sons. Both boys
declined an interview. Amy recalls a rare moment when Marcus referenced their old
life.
“He made a comment like, ‘You know that Terrell and I are old enough now that we will
always protect you.’ Because at ten and seven,” she says, “they couldn’t.”
I ask her if she ever worries about falling back into unhealthy or destructive habits.
Keynote speaker at 2010 women’s health expo.
Fredericksburg, Virginia. (Courtesy of Amy Barnes)
“No. I don’t use food as a coping mechanism anymore. I eat because food is what I
need to live. Me working out and me living a healthy lifestyle is like me brushing
my teeth,” she says. “As far as the abuse goes, I think I went through it so I can
show other people what it is. Emotional and mental abuse is control. And when you
think your husband or your boyfriend is being super caring or super sensitive and
he is calling your phone—especially these young girls—they’re calling or texting you
fifteen times a day, or they don’t want you to hang out with your friends because
they’d rather spend time with you, and they don’t want you with your friends and family
because they just want you all to themselves because they love you, that is the first
telltale sign of emotional abuse. They’re tryingto control you. And from there, it escalates. So, I had to go through it to recognize
it, so I can help and coach other people through it.”
Amy travels for speaking engagements to encourage and enlighten women like her, who
have survived domestic abuse.
“I can’t speak to the victims who are buried, because they couldn’t get out of it.
Every time I speak, it’s to the survivors, and I say, ‘I applaud you for finally taking
the leap to get out,’ but to the victims who are still stuck and can’t find a way
out, the thing I tell them is, ‘The unknown is scary, because when you’re in it, you
know what to expect, and you can brace yourself for the abuse. You can make excuses
and try to make things better. But the unknown is scary, because you don’t know what
you’ll do financially. They have excluded you from finding a job and having financial
stability, and isolated you from family and friends, and at this point you feel you
have nothing in your life. The unknown is scary, because if you leave him, what the
F are you gonna have? Nothing. No money, no friends, no family, no job, no security,
no nothin’.’ But I tell them, ‘The unknown is scary, but being in what you are with
him is so much F-ing scarier than the unknown.’ ”
I ask Amy if she would have braved the unknown had it not been for a judge ordering her to better
her life.
“No. No, because that judge forced me to say, It is him or your children . I went through three years with this guy, back and forth with him every week, every
month. I went through this craziness. It was the abuse, it was the honeymoon period,
it was the abuse again, it was the honeymoon period,” she says. “I left and came back
into that relationship over those three years so many times, and it was never bad
enough.”
We talk about the residue from the bad years and what remains.
“I have a five-inch scar up the center of my stomach from where he stabbed me. I have
scars from when he has burned me with cigarettes, from where he has cut me with a
razor blade. The bruises have