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.