Category Archives: domestic violence

An Unexpected Lesson

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I was wrong about something. I made an assumption about one of mom’s friends that was wrong.

Mom’s dearest friends are a bunch of well put together ladies. They have generous and Godly spirits. When I look at them, I just cannot imagine any of them having any of the same challenges in life that I have had. I learned differently the other day.

Mom had not really shared with her friends all of the details of why I was now living with her. Actually, I think beyond letting them know I was having marriage difficulties she had not really told them much of anything. It was not because she was embarrassed, it was out of respect for my privacy. So when they came over the other day, and I declined their lunch invitation because I needed some downtime, I felt I needed to explain to them that I had an anxiety disorder. The conversation progressed from there.

I talked about my depression, my suicide attempt, and my marriage. Actually, I went into quite a bit of detail about my marriage, and the events that led to me moving in with mom and dad. While I was talking, I noticed one of mom’s friends really identifying with what I was saying. In fact, she made some really spot on observations. She was able to point out Joe Bob’s controlling behavior, his manipulation, and other negative behavior that he exhibits. She was even able to clearly identify some of his manipulative behavior – that to outsiders looks perfectly harmless.

At some point, she shared a few things about her own life. I was surprised by what I heard. This gentle, soft spoken lady had marriage war stories of her own. Hers involved a great deal of physical abuse. Yet, she did not seem bitter, or angry. She honestly seemed at peace with her past. What an inspiration! What a lesson I learned!

I think I would love to hear her story. I think she has a lot to teach me. She has already taught me a big lesson about assuming someone has had it easy just because they look like they have it all together.

Facing The Past – Part I

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Warning: Some parts of this post will be inappropriate for children to read

There are things in my past that I have yet to come to complete peace about. I am not sure why, but I just have not. My emotions are still fairly raw when it comes to them. I have wondered if that is because I have not really faced certain things. It has always seemed much easier to tuck them away in my mind.

I have decided that I need to face something in my past. My hope is that if I write about it, I can finally put it to rest. That way if something does trigger memories about it, I no longer feel my stomach tighten up with fear.

When I was in my early twenties, I dated a man many years older than I was. In the beginning things seemed great. He appeared to want nothing more than to take care of me and my son. I began to trust him. Shortly after we began dating, my son left to go to China with one of my mother’s friends, for his yearly summer visit. It was after my son left that this man and I were able to get to know each better. We could go on dates more frequently and spend more time with each other.

I got to know his two boys. Such nice little boys. His ex-wife though, she seemed so full of anger towards the man. I did not understand why she would be so angry with him. He was always good with me. I felt loved and taken care of by him. Even the jealousy he displayed about my speaking to other men, even work colleagues, seemed to come from a place of deep love.

Something began to change.  The jealousy reached a point where I know longer found it cute or funny.  It was scary, and sad.  There were times that I felt scared of him, although he had not done anything that caused me to fear him.  Well, except for the jealousy.  It was scary and odd enough, that I chose not to tell my family I was seeing him.

I remember one time, when I just wanted to be at home alone.  He kept calling me and calling me and I would not pick up the phone.  Eventually, it had stopped ringing and I had thought he had given up for the evening.  After a while, I discovered him creeping around the outside of my house peeking in the windows.  I was not sure if I should feel scared out of my mind or touched that he would feel that much concern about me.  I cannot believe how much my younger self let slide.

This man began to not let me out of his sight, except when I was working.  Even then, if he had a day off, he would drive by, without telling me, to see who I was going out to lunch with.  If I happened to go out with someone I worked with, who was a man, then when I got home I was accused of having had sex with him.  It was frustrating!  It never even crossed my mind to do something like that and yet he would be convinced that I had.  Even with the evidence in front of him that it had not happened, could not have happened, he still knew I had somehow managed to make it happen.  Yet, I stayed.  By this time though, I was not staying because I wanted to, I was staying because I was scared not to.

Humiliation.  The day to day humiliation of being with this man was something I had never experienced before.  He seemed so focused on the fact that I was having sex with other people, that he began to check and see if I had.  He would check my panties to find evidence of the deed and to my absolute embarrassment he would even check me.  I would be reduced to hysterical tears by what he was doing and at times I believe he was turned on by that.

Then he began to talk about marrying me.  The terror inside of me at that thought was like a living thing.  I was so desperate to not marry him, but I was so afraid of what would happen if I did not.

To be continued….