It's been a while since I've posted here.
However, I have written some!
Here is something I wrote about a year ago. It wasn't time to post this at that point, but I feel it is now. I called this one "Staying."
I am planning on writing more - and posting a few more things - in the coming weeks.. I just have to figure out how to organize my thoughts on it all.
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I am never offended when people ask me why I stayed so long. The answer is complicated at best – a nightmare at worst. Simply put, I could not leave. I understand that doesn’t make sense. But I will add, it only makes no sense because you’ve never been there. The layers within a person abuse touches are more than the physical – it reaches to the very core fabric of your being … your soul. Abuse weaves its way around the fullness of your love, the purity of your trust, the creativity of your mind and the foundation of your beliefs. And sometimes it happens over time – other times, it’s a quick “snap” – and before you know it you don’t even recognize yourself … too much time was spent hiding and too many years spent trying to appease the abuser … all for naught. And that’s when you realize you are enslaved in a cycle with a monster who will never change – oppressed – enslaved -- afraid.
I stayed because I loved him. I stayed because I love my children. I stayed because I needed to protect my children. I stayed because the community thought he was amazing – I had no voice. I stayed because I was alone – isolated from people: friends assigned, all activities monitored, money tracked, phone calls, emails and all texts – monitored, basic essentials withheld so I would always be in need, and so much more. I had only existed in a culture where divorce was never an option. Some would mumble – “only in cases of adultery” – but never abuse. But they still judged. I was told often as I was being choked out, smothered or slammed against walls and doors that I had made a COVENANT… “til death do us part.” I believed him. I believed him when I was told that our bodies were “one” and I belonged to him – this is what I had been taught my whole life. I stayed because I was afraid of the family, cultural and communal backlash. I was afraid of change. I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid of being alone. I was afraid I would have no voice. I was afraid nobody would believe the truth. I was afraid I would die … and my children would be placed in danger.
I felt that I was the only person in the world who could be married to this volatile, angry, manipulative and cruel man. I knew that very few people could “manage” his erratic behavior … but he trained me well. I was trained to respond to his anger. I was trained to be silent. I was trained to only be “honoring” and “respectful” as he defined those things in his narcissistic mind. And I did it very well. It made me feel needed and valued.
I made a promise. I knew that … and I was taught that promise would be broken if I separated because of abuse. I know now that is wrong. Marital promises must go both ways –the other party broke their covenant only a couple months into the marriage. Yet I held on. I was told I was not smart or even qualified enough to be on my own. And I believed them. I was told that, being a woman, I was not to follow the Lord in whatever ministry He would lead me – or use any gifts He would give … that simply didn’t happen. Being a woman, my greatest role in life was being a Wife – and Mother. I was both. I would be nothing – no social status whatsoever – without a husband. The church culture pressed me to continue on, even attempting to coerce a meeting with the local men to go over their “reconciliation plan” for us. I received calls, emails and even read court documents where the church community denied the abuse – while in the same breath explained the abuse. And, at the same time, chastised me for not having a biblical reason for separation.
I stayed for so long because my mind blocked the worse offenses. If it had not – I would be dead today. These are slowly coming back in terrifying PTSD moments I now live with. Instead, at the time, I focused on the love, the good times and the hope that change would come. The love stayed, the good times were fleeting and the change never came. It wasn’t until I realized the change had to be me… and if I did not accept that, I would die… and so may my children. But it took time to find that strength – the strength to be what I thought would be me - alone.
All that I feared did happen… The gossip was mind-blowing and nothing I ever thought I would be given from “friends.” I was rejected – by family, friends and much of the community. At first, only one friend stood beside me – but that was all I needed. Others did come along side as time went on – some stayed, others couldn’t stand the fire. The church I had dedicated much of my life to, turned on me. And, at first I had no voice. There was nothing left I recognized from the life I left… change had come.
Then I started speaking up. I took a deep breath of the fresh, FREE air … and stood up. I had to find the strength – buried so deeply into the shell of the woman I was left with – and I began to fight. It did cost me everything – Just like I was told. But what is growing is the person I was always meant to be… and much more beautiful than what was previously there… this woman is FREE!
