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At age twenty, I was on top of the world. I was a college student on the Dean’s List, had just won a local beauty contest, had a great family environment, tons of friends and loved life. Through friends, I met Bill and my life would be completely turned upside-down over the next five years.After our first meeting, he called a few times and seemed very sweet and funny. When I invited him to a party, he arrived with flowers and was very charming. I was smitten and we began dating. My 21st birthday arrived and he wined and dined me and lavished me with expensive gifts and constant flattery. I didn’t suspect that this behavior covered a need for control which would lead to abuse. We’d only been dating six months when he introduced me to his extended family at a reunion. As we were visiting, a plane flew overhead with a banner that read, “Will you marry me?” and Bill presented me with a beautiful diamond ring. Caught up in the moment, and having no idea what my life would soon turn into, I gladly accepted. Bill pushed for a quick engagement and we were married six months later. It was during our engagement that the abuse really began. One day, we were arguing in the car. Bill was driving and I thought he was going to run off the road. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed the steering wheel. Bill backhanded me and then reasoned that I deserved to be slapped in the face for grabbing the wheel. I could have caused an accident, after all. After we both calmed down, he was very apologetic, vowing, of course, that it would never happen again. The incident was a red flag that I chose to ignore. Our wedding was perfect except for the fact that my closest friend wasn’t a part of it. Bill didn’t like her and forbade me to ask her to be my maid of honor. It ruined our friendship and we didn’t speak again for almost five years. A few months after the wedding, we decided to move. Bill told me he had a job lined up, which was good because we were moving 2000 miles away from anyone we knew and had little savings. Fortunately, I got a job at a retail company and Bill got a job in construction. Money was scarce and making ends meet was difficult. We argued all the time. The verbal abuse really started and he never let up, it seemed. I wasn’t the girl he married, he complained. I wasn’t thin enough or pretty enough, the house wasn’t clean enough and on and on. If things in the house were not exactly the way he wanted, he blamed and scolded me, usually grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me. The one thing that was going well was my job. I received a promotion and needed a car. We bought a used car and began making payments when his truck broke down. He had also received a raise and was making five cents an hour more than me. Because he was earning more, he took the car and left me to get to and from work however I could. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without him, unless he chose not to go. He threatened that I would be in “big trouble” if I talked to anyone about our marriage. He once threw me out the door with instructions to get a gallon of milk. There was a horrific rainstorm and I refused to go which, of course, was the wrong thing to do. I later learned that the rainstorm had actually been a tornado. By this time, I was emotionally and mentally broken. I was exhausted, living in constant fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. The verbal abuse continued as the physical abuse escalated. He once whipped me around by my arm and almost pulled my arm out of socket. Somehow, I continued to do well with my job and received another promotion. I was now making more money than Bill. I will never forget coming home from a business trip to find that he’d spent every dime of my paycheck when his brothers came to visit. Despite the fact that the bills were going unpaid, he spent our money on gifts and expensive restaurants. We argued and he told me that if his life didn’t get better, he was going to kill himself. I later learned this is another common tactic abusers use to maintain control over their victim. Every time, the apologies would come and he seemed sincere. Things were always better for a while and then, as I could predict, something else would happen. I had always dreamed of being a dancer for a professional sports team. With his permission, I auditioned and won a place on the squad. Bill came to a game with his buddies and embarrassed me the entire time. “I don’t see those moves at home!” he shouted from the stands. I was humiliated and began to finally see that what we had was not a marriage. Bill got a job working nights so we saw less and less of each other. The breaking point for me came one night when he was playing softball before work. He was driving a truck with standard transmission, which he knew I couldn’t drive. Because we were running late after the game, he told me that I’d have to drive myself home after the game. I told him I couldn’t, that I didn’t know how to drive the car. He started yelling at me and then he grabbed me by the hair and was dragging me into the driver’s seat. I was crying hysterically. He stopped, waited for me to get back in the truck and then sped off toward home. When he dropped me off at home, I knew that I had to get out or be killed. Getting out of an abusive relationship requires planning because the abuser wants to control your life. I took a second job and told Bill it was volunteer work so I could save every dime I made. As the holidays approached, I began hinting that I’d like to go home, to see my parents. He thought it over and finally said, “If you miss them so much why don’t you go visit them over the holidays for a few weeks? I won’t mind a bit.” I suspected that he was having an affair and having me out of the way for a few weeks was convenient. I don’t think he ever considered that I wouldn’t be coming back. I rented a trailer and began, carefully, to pack everything I wanted to keep, including dishes and household items. When he saw what I was packing, he said, “You are sure taking a lot with you for a few weeks.” I was careful not to comment. I gave my notice at work and said good-bye to the few friends I’d met. I waited until the very last minute to tell my closest friend, fearing that she wouldn’t understand. “Thank God,” she responded. She, like so many other people, had known something was very wrong between me and my husband. She and I had a great time on that last evening together. When I returned home, however, things weren’t so great. Bill was waiting, irate that I’d gone to my friend’s house. He pinned me down on the bed for three hours demanding that I tell him what I told her. I tried to explain that I simply wanted to say good-bye before going to my parents’ for the holiday. He didn’t believe me. I was terrified and, at times, could barely breathe because he had his full weight on me. Out of desperation, I asked him what his father would think of him, knowing that he was hurting me and holding me against my will. I knew that a reference to his father would get his attention. To my relief, he got off of me and I ran to the spare bedroom and locked the door. I was certain he would kill me. He tried to get in the room with me but I wouldn’t let him, staying there all night. By morning, he’d left for work and I, too, went to work. When I returned home, everything I had was packed and stacked outside. He told me my stuff took up too much room in the house so he’d moved it. As badly as I wanted to leave, I had no choice but to wait for my father, who was coming to take me home for the holidays. As soon as my father arrived, we were gone. I had $260.00 to my name, a car payment, and everything I owned in a small trailer. I thought we were safely on the way when I noticed Bill chasing us on the highway. When we pulled over, he told me that I’d taken the answering machine and he needed it. We were divorced a short time later. He tried to contact me several times but I wasn’t interested. Several years later, he called to tell me he was in a 12 Step program and wanted to apologize. I listened and thanked him for his apology. That was the last time I talked to him. I am a survivor and a lucky one. The abuse I suffered was emotional, physical and verbal. Sometimes I would think I was losing my mind and I was at fault for everything. When the physical abuse started I was terrified. I know if I had stayed in that relationship I would be dead. I have now come full circle. I am a successful professional with a wonderful husband who is my partner in life, my gift from God, my soul mate. I was able to triumph with the help of my friends, family and my faith. A friend once shared with me, “Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you want but you can only spend it once.” As I close my story, I encourage anyone reading this to seek help if you are in crisis. You have a purpose on this earth and you need to fulfill it. You are important, you are worthy, you are unique with many talents and you are of great value. One day, your story may help someone else. |
If you are a small business owner and aren't currently supporting any particular cause or campaign, why not join me in supporting public awareness of the domestic violence problem? Domestic violence is all around us. It's in our neighborhoods and the places we work. It's not a private matter and it doesn't happen to just poor people. The only way we can help stop it is to talk about it. I would like to hear what you have to say. Please join me on LinkedIn and Google+.--Ken
