I've mentioned before that October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month. It's also Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but did you know that it is also Domestic Violence Prevention Month too?
I remember years and years ago reading news or magazine articles or watching TV movies with domestic violence as the subject. I would wonder why women stayed, how they could still love the guy hurting them like that, why they didn't just leave and how sad that it happened at all. I also felt like I would know better to ever be in a situation like that and even went so far as to say "the first time a guy puts his hands on me like that I'm out of there!"
That was before it happened to me. That was before I walked in those shoes. Yes, I experienced this in my first marriage.
You always
think you know how you'll react in a situation, but really, until you're actually
in the situation, you just don't know. You don't know what you'll really do or how you'll feel.
I know that every person's story is different, the family dynamics are different, reasons for staying are different...but now, having experienced it, I know why someone stays and why it's not so easy to "just leave."
So I wanted to share my story. Not that my story is the same as anyone else's, but to raise awareness, to give a glimpse of what it was like, what I went through, what I thought and felt. Why I didn't leave the first time it happened. My situation was not as bad as what makes the news; I was never hospitalized, never had broken bones, nor had my life threatened. But domestic violence has all different forms, and this is how it happened to me.
I prefer not to use my ex's name, so I'll just refer to him as X.
Most of the cases I heard about domestic violence seem to have a common theme of the guy getting drunk every night then coming home and finding something to take out on the girlfriend/wife...like dinner wasn't on the table when he got home, or it was cold, or it wasn't what he wanted to eat, kids were fighting/crying, house was a mess etc. I now realize this is not how it happens all the time. X didn't come home drunk, he wasn't even a drinker, maybe that was why at first I couldn't believe it was happening. It didn't fit the image I had in my head of what an abuser was like and the conditions to "cause" it.
We were engaged and living together when it first happened. He would talk to me in condescending tones, put me down, make me feel like a little kid, that I couldn't do anything right. It was awful having arguments with him. Then one night during an argument he pushed me up against a wall and I just didn't know what to think. I guess I hoped that was an isolated incident.
It didn't get better though. He became so controlling. I felt like I had to answer to him for everything, get his permission for anything, always explain myself. Little by little he tried to control who I talked to, where I went, what I did. So many times I felt like this was a parent/child relationship and not a marriage.
One night we had another "stupid" argument (something that got out of hand and you can't even remember what you were fighting about in the first place). I ended up in the spare bedroom crying. He came in and told me to be quiet, that he didn't want to hear it anymore. I told him if I felt like crying I would. He broke 2 objects in the room that were mine, so I swiped some papers or whatever off the desk (I know that was probably childish, but I just reacted). He broke something else and I pushed more papers off the desk. In a split second, before I knew what even happened, he had slapped me across the face. I was absolutely stunned. I wrote this in my journal, "
This is the kind of warning sign all the magazines tell you about. This is the 'red flag' telling me to get out. Even though he wasn't punching on me, who knows that won't happen in the future?"
So why didn't I get out? Because we were getting married in a month! So many plans had been made, out-of-town guests had already booked flights and hotel rooms. Yes I
know how this sounds - those aren't reasons to continue on with a wedding if you're worried about how the marriage will turn out!
There were good times though, it wasn't always bad, so you focus on the good, believe the bad won't happen again, believe things will be fine, get married because you think you're in love.
I was also embarrassed. How could I tell people he slapped me on the face? How could I admit I made a mistake in judgement and I shouldn't get married after all? I was 23 and hopeful, hopeful the marriage would work and he would change. I didn't want anyone to know what happened so I hoped it was the last time. Again from my journal, "
I'm so scared to end up abused, but I don't know what to do. I can't really tell anyone either, because I'm so ashamed." Yes I had people I could have told, definitely my parents, best friends, but it's just too hard to admit what is happening.
He was mad at me once for clearing the phone numbers on the caller ID from our bedroom phone (but they were still on the living room phone) and while he was getting ready for work and we were arguing about that he threw his boot at me. Military combat boots are heavy. That was the first time I had a bruise because of him.
Another example of how he tried to control me: It was Halloween and he was working late shift so he wasn't home. We lived in a town house so there were stairs on the outside to walk up to our unit. He actually told me he did not want me all the way at the end of the stairs handing out candy. What?! Did he expect the kids dressed in their costumes to have to walk up the stairs to me? Did he expect me to sit at the top and run down each time kids came by then walk back up the top only to find more kids had arrived and run back down? I couldn't believe he was telling me where to hand out candy and that I couldn't be outside on the bottom step! This was military housing, not a bad neighborhood. I couldn't believe he was serious.
Then he got orders to Colorado. Why would I go with him all the way to CO where I wouldn't know anyone and be even more isolated? Why didn't I call it quits then? Because we weren't even married for a year, the honeymoon wasn't paid off, the photographs weren't even back from the photographer. If I got a divorce so soon I would
feel like a failure. Yes that is how I felt. How could I say it was over when it had barely begun?
And still, I thought there might still be some love there somewhere. When times were good, they were good and I was happy and felt special and loved. Because that's the "honeymoon period" the cycle that goes round and round...good times to turbulent times back to good times.
I also thought maybe this move might be good for us. Maybe we could get a fresh start in a new place and be really happy together, maybe this is what we needed. Why I thought that I don't know, something to hold on to. I felt like I had to try and make this marriage work.
Obviously it didn't. A few days after we got there we were living in temporary housing. A male friend of mine called, someone I had known for 10 years at that time. He knew we had moved and called my mom to see if we arrived safely etc and she gave him the phone number. When I answered the phone and started to talk to him, X had to know who it was and how he got our number. I had nothing to hide so I told him. He flipped out and was yelling that my mom had no right to give our phone # out to people blah blah blah. Excuse me? My mom knew who this was, knew this was someone I had kept in touch with for 10 yrs, this wasn't some stranger.
(As a side note: I don't want to turn this into a discussion about having friends of the opposite sex while you're married. I will say my situation was growing up as a military brat and moving around a lot, friends came and went, and I had male and female friends from 'all over'. We kept in touch via occasional letters and phone calls. I didn't even live in the same state as any of these friends. I didn't become friends with males
after my marriage and said "oh I'm going to hang out with so-and-so tonight and you're not invited." This was not the situation. These were long-distance friendships from different bases I lived at. He was jealous and wanted me to completely drop my past friendships, with the males especially, but even some female friends, even though no one lived in that local area and I was not "hanging out" with them. He had no reason to be jealous, he was just controlling.)
So after we had moved into our base house I mailed out some letters updating friends with my new information. One of these friends called one night. I answered the phone in the bedroom, and after a few min he picked up the phone in the living room. He asked who it was, my friend responded with "This is R, her long-lost friend" (we hadn't spoken in a long time) and then X asked "how did you get this #?" It was so embarrassing to have him question a friend on the phone like that...as if he were my father. After R said I sent him a letter X came back into the bedroom with a furious look on his face. All I could say into the phone was basically goodbye because X was unplugging the phone from the wall. The ensuing struggle had him smacking the phone on the bottom of my foot. The next day he called the phone company to have our # changed. This was the second time he exerted control by changing our phone number.
There were a few other incidents here and there; he threw a small plastic garbage can at me which left a bruise on my ankle. Yet I still wondered when I could say enough was enough and this marriage just wasn't working.
A lot of the reasons I used to hear for women not leaving were isolation: they didn't have friends/family around to turn to, they had no transportation as there was only one car, kids to take care of, no money as the husband controlled all the accounts, no credit cards, etc.
None of that was my case. I had my own vehicle. We had separate bank accounts, we had no kids to worry about. I didn't have a job as I hadn't found one yet, but I did have some money in my own checking/savings account from when I worked in MD. I had my own credit cards. So it should have been easy for me to leave, but it wasn't. I was in CO now, what was I going to do? Drive across the country back to MD?
I don't have any hard and concrete reasons for why I didn't. I was still embarrassed and ashamed, only this time because I had let it continue on and didn't tell everyone when it was happening. Now people would think I was stupid for staying in a relationship like that and they would wonder what was wrong with me. It's just hard to explain that it just is not that easy to leave.
Then one night found us in yet another argument. He started slapping me in the face/head (never a closed fist, just open hands) and at the end I found myself leaning over the sink with blood dripping from my nose.
That was my breaking point.
The next day when he was at work I finally had the courage to call my mom (let me tell you how hard that conversation was) and then my best friend in TX. I packed up my car and stayed at a hotel right outside of base. My step-father was there that evening and the next day took me to security police to file a report. Over the next couple of days we made arrangements for me to leave and we drove to San Antonio to stay with my best friend there until I could figure things out.
I wish I could say that was the end but it wasn't. I stayed there for 2 months. In that time they welcomed their first child and I still wasn't any closer on making a decision to where I should go, what I should do. I was in limbo. I knew I couldn't stay there forever though - they had a new baby and needed time to just be a family. X was going to Anger Management classes as well as some other counseling. So yes, I thought I would give it one more try. I figured, now that he knows the Air Force knows what is going on he won't be like that anymore. He's going to Anger Management maybe he's learned and changed.
So I went back and stayed for several months. I do have to say that he never got physical with me again, but he just couldn't let go of his controlling ways.
He worked a second job at night. One night I said I was going to go to the mall and he pretty much forbid me to go. He even took my keyring off the hook. So I went to the bedroom upset, hurt, and crying that he was still being this way. He finally came in and put the keys on the dresser. I didn't say anything right away because I was still so mad at him for acting that way. I guess it upset him that I didn't acknowledge that he gave my keys back. I was supposed to be so appreciative of that. He even made some comment about "well if you're not even going to say thank you then I'm not giving your keys back." True to his word, when he left for work I found my set of keys gone too (which were the keys to my car.)
I mentioned this incident when we had our joint counseling appointment. The counselor asked him what made him think he had any control over another person like that. He responded, "she's my wife!" She tried to explain to him that didn't give him power over me but he just didn't get it. I knew then he would never change his views or ways. I also realized I just didn't love him anymore and couldn't see myself married any longer. I knew I had tried my best to make it work and felt I could finally walk away.
So that's a synopsis of my story; there is obviously much more I could tell, but this post is long enough already! I don't want sympathy or anything like that. This happened 10 years ago, and I'm fine now, really I am! I am in a marriage with mutual respect and love and this is how a marriage should be.
I just wanted to give an example of how domestic violence starts off small and does escalate and how come it's hard to just walk away. Believe me, it's much easier said than done.
Also, if you know me personally, please,
please don't tell me "you could have told me what was going on, you know you can tell me anything, I wish you would have talked to me about this, you didn't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed" or something along those lines. Yes I know I
could have talked to any number of people, yes I know I have nothing to feel ashamed about. But this is all in the past and I hope I've explained why I didn't talk to anyone, at first, about what was going on. It's just
not easy to talk to anyone about when you are in the middle of that situation.
Now I'll leave you with this article that was in Redbook:
You Can Save a Woman's Life - Just by Asking Her How She's Doing
