It was in 1965 when I met my first husband. He is half-black and half-Mexican. He also has a very big muscular body. He would hit me every time he was drinking. But then when I would try to leave him he would say that he wouldn't hit me again. When I got pregnant from him I felt forced to marry him.

After we got married he started beating me up even more because I wouldn't listen to him when he was drunk. During those years I was with my first husband I had three kids. The oldest one is now in his early twenties and belongs to a violent gang. My second son got into trouble so much he was sent to a juvenile home. My daughter was raped by her uncle and committed suicide. And all this because they all grew up with a violent, alcoholic father.

Let me tell you about my daughter. It all started when she was acting funny and I was wondering what was the matter. It was after the rape and she had been out all day. I was starting to get worried about her so I went out to look for her. My husband had been partying and was home drunk with his brother. When she came home that night her father's brother told her to kiss him but she didn't want to. Her father was so pissed off he threw her down on the floor. After picking herself up she went out to a big tree in our backyard and committed suicide. When I saw her I started crying, and tried to do CPR on her but she died anyway. When I told my husband what happened he only got mad.

After her funeral I was looking through my daughter's diary and I read where she said her uncle had raped her while she was sleeping, and that's why she committed suicide.

When I showed this to her dad, he killed his brother. After that I decided I'd had enough violence and divorced my husband. I then went back to my village where I found another husband who is very loving. We have no children but at least we have each other.