From such a dark, and lonely place the shutters of my mind began to open.
(
How I realized I was going to leave)
01/10/2008 Standing in
the economically lowest and dirtiest dwelling I have ever resided in, unknown
to me, my understanding of my value would start to change. Like the first rays
of sun rise, my thoughts were sparked. My three children being four months old
and two, and five years old slept. Their father stood brewing like a
storm, raging loudly. Terms unknown to me at the time such as patriarchal
mentality, entitlement, self-dominance, and freedom were much like the humidity
of Florida’s summer; so close I can feel it yet invisible to the eye.
Resembling a third grade science project of a potted plant left in a closet,
far from sun and water, I too was withering from the inside out. I was so far
from all the joy, laughter, warmth, and freedom I had once known. Little by
little my thinking and self-image were warped. In the name of saving a failing
marriage, I had become literally unrecognizable to myself, not only in the
mirror, but inside. From such a dark, and lonely place the shutters of my mind
began to open.
“You’re here with all these requirements (for giving sex)
when there are women at work giving it away for free.” In his new clothes, for
his new job, and freshly cut hair he spewed such venom. This statement first
brought pain and disbelief but then it transitioned into an illuminating guide.
Like lava, bringing destruction to the infrastructure it crosses, so it was
that the cords of my identity had so often been burned away by his words. But
this time, life grew from death, quiet unexpectedly. The power inside
began to grow when I changed my response to the chaos around me. What was the
point of sacrificing so much of myself on the altar of a two parent home? Like
a dog, running into the street off his leash, so was my husband. Into the muddy
puddles of self-gratification, and abuse, was adultery to be the new normal
too, this backwards “love”? The strength of a man is to dominate himself, so that he can then give
himself in service to his lady. This relationship, was in fact the opposite.
Sitting there, in January, in a poorly insulated trailer, although I could not
identify it at the time; I was beginning to realize I no longer would allow
myself to be dominated to be used for his pleasure. The pleasure of sex,
housekeeping, child bearing, boasting right, none of it. What was it getting
me, beside depression? The image of him going to work to cheat on me, when I
had thrown my pearls of self, before this swine, for him to destroy them and me
too. How is it that after years of fighting my natural instinct for survival, I
could begin to change my way of thinking? I felt so old, and tired juxtapose
with the sensation of internal liberation. Fortunately, my children were too
young to understand this situation that would have a ripple effect on the rest
of their lives. Even in the middle of nowhere, alone, poor, weakened from child
birth, three international trips in the four months after my youngest was born,
I wasn't too far for mercy to
finally permeate the permafrost that was my mentality.
Once the shock of the encounter began to wear off and he
again was away for the day at his job, I began to pray and reach out for help.
A few heart-felt prayers for wisdom, discernment, and understanding were
answered through in part the free counselling service offered by Focus
on the Family. The concept of enabling was brought to my attention,
along with my first responsibility was to keep my children and myself safe, and
that was where the love and heart of God is.
How empowering the idea that God cared about my safety, right there in the
middle of my mess, in the middle of nowhere, in a cold dingy trailer. The great
exchange of beauty for ashes had begun to take place in my life.
Psalm 59:16
But I will sing of your strength in the morning. I
will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble.
Marriage and my first child: I'd been married
about six years and I had a handful of children to take care of.
Their father, once so handsome and engaging had pulled a Dr. Jeckel and Mr.
Hyde on me. The alpha male pretending to be a nurturer, tricked me.
07/2002- On
the way to the honeymoon, in the car, I physically saw him
change. It was like invisible water poured over him and everything about him
changed. The way his face was, and his posture. It was a physical change.
I thought I was going crazy. I didn't understand
how someone could change before my eyes. I thought about
running away at that point. I thought about getting out
of the marriage we had just celebrated with friends and family,
but I allowed my pride and shame to direct my actions and I stayed. I
didn't know all this would mean, but I would soon find out.
Family violence as a lifestyle: My new
husband came from a family where violence, verbal abuse, and manipulation were
common. I had seen some of this before we got married, but he assured me that
this was not the lifestyle he was going to live; that he understood this
was dysfunctional and far from the loving heart of
Jesus Christ. Unfortunately, a year of dating/courting was not enough
for his true colors to shine through. There were warning signs of coarse,
but I was so excited to feel wanted, and important to someone
I closed my eyes to them. The mask of hypocrisy that hallmarked
his premarital life would be his matrimonial foretay.
08/2002 We
moved immediately to another state and were in the process of
starting a Christian University. Within three months I was pregnant with our
first daughter. He became suicidal and
suggested she be put up for adoption. This was devastating for me as
a young bride and mother. The child in my womb, I had dreamed about since I was
a child. I dreamed that my husband would be over joyed and we would
pick out baby items smiling and cuddling the whole nine months
through. This was the exact opposite of my experience. My husband, said he
felt his life was over and that he didn't want to be a father. He hated
his dad. Wow, how crazy is that? What was the point of all the marital sex,
(where I never orgasimed) if not to create a child? Needless to say I
did not agree to put her up for adoption. I thought that I could love
them both enough to keep our new little family together. Boy, was I wrong.
The depth of depression this
man entered into, the over eating, the bitterness, the rejection he gave me
instead of support was like a hurricane of chaos. This hurricane
of chaos is what
predicated the next seven years of my marital life.
My children's father was the youngest in a
West Indian family that took dysfunction to a level I had
never seen, or knew existed. Like pigs rolling in the mud, so they
rolled around, willingly, in their arguments, fights, and
deception. Having a lucrative business in their nation of
origin enabled them to fund many trips to the U.S. As a child he was
left in a beautiful home in a wealthy area of town, with plenty of
food, money, alcohol, T.V., and a maid service, but no parents. His
two older brothers and sister did the child rearing for six months of the year
with no parents or legal immigration status. Having entered the country
on a tourist visa, the children staid. They went to school,
kept their heads down and noses clean. Going
from elementary school to high school. This lack
of accountability and instability forged his identity . His actions spoke loud
and clear that he was sure he would never be held accountable for
his treatment towards me or our young daughter. By the time our daughter
was born, I was
a wreck mentally, financially and spiritually. We
moved back to our home state before our daughter was born. At the time
of her birth, he worked three hours a day, for a fast
food restaurant and I worked full time for an art store. Not the
hero I thought he would be. Inside, I was facing some harsh realities.
My husband was failing me, and our
daughter. He loved to go to bible study,
but refused to help with the most basic chores of survive. His lack of desire
to keep track of his most basic possessions was infuriating. But,
like a "good wife" I found his socks, belt, wallet,
glasses, and so many other things he refused to keep track of. The immaturity and insecurity that
he he felt, he communicated as belittling comments about my ability
to meet his expectations of what a wife and
mother should be. This had my own mother brimming
with infuriating, who we lived with and paid a mere $300 in rent to.
Where was the handsome, intelligent, poetic, and
tortured with the thought of the lost going to hell? He worked as little
as possible, ate as much as possible and controlled the remote. He couldn't
miss a church service or bible study meeting, but refused to help with the
laundry. His pregnant, working, tired, young bride was responsible
for that. Why did I stay?
This is question silently bugged me. What
was my alternative? Being a single mother, having a
failed marriage? These prospects at the time were over whelming.
I felt like a failure
for marrying and having a child with such a
loser. He was a shining star during prayer meetings, he quoted the bible,
witnessed to the lost, gave food to the homeless, but never once
massaged his bride's feet. Where was Jesus in all of this? Where was this great love that the bible
speaks of? It was not in the marriage I was in. I knew this. In
an angry fit, he had kicked a chair directly in front of my
pregnant stomach. Scaring me and causing my mother who was outside
the house to rush in. He commanded her to leave us be to work things out. She
left, and I stayed.
Winter 2002 By the time my daughter was six months I told my husband I was going to leave. He responded without hesitation, that
his family has more money and that he would win custody of our
daughter in court. He also said, that he would take our daughter in
the night and that I would never find them. At 19, this scared me.
That was his intention, to use fear and intimidation to keep me in line. Did I
reach out for help? Yes. I called the youth pastor's wife. She reprimanded me for
my attitude towards my husband, told me to treat him
with more respect, and that he was bluffing about the rest. This started
my flawed thinking. I responded to this advice with disobedience to the voice
of God. God, was speaking to my heart to get out. To get away from this
dangerous man, and do it now. Instead I thought that I could love
this man enough to love me back. I confused loving for enabling.
Accepting mental, verbal, physical, financial and sexual
abuse perpetrated by my husband towards me, I lost my voice and my
hope.
08/26/2014 That was 13 years ago. I am now a free
woman, and although the path to this freedom has been hard, it
has been worth it. This blogg is about that path.
