"Storms make strong trees"

My first husband died in an automobile accident about two years after we divorced.  We had been married for eight long years.  They were long because they were painful.  My first husband and I met while in college. 

We eloped in the summer of 1971. We would spend the first few years of marriage in Minden.  While I feel uncomfortable speaking unkindly about him, it is a part of the message of this blog post.  My first husband was a very talented man.  He was a part time freelance reporter and a full time college student. I worked to put him through college and it would take him the length of our marriage to finally graduate. 

Most people were not aware of the abuse that was taking place in our family.  His parents, now deceased, struggled with abuse in their family.  Early on in our marriage we began to have problems.  We both consulted with our respective pastors for prayers and guidance.  We finally decided that we needed to leave Minden and find our own place as a couple in the world.

My husband joined the Army and we found ourselves stationed in Leesville for his four years of volunteer service.   Although we moved away from Minden, the problems moved with us.  The verbal and physical abuse escalated.  During one of our many fights, things turned critical. I sought the advice of a minister that I had befriended.   The minister told me that it was all my fault.  He said that I had not submitted myself completely to my husband. He quoted scriptures and went to council me on how I could be more submissive and honor my husband as the head of our household.  I listened respectfully but I kept feeling like he wasn’t really understanding what was going on.  How could he encourage me to stay with someone who was so abusive? He offered up prayer and visited me often at my job to give me words of encouragement and support.   But all the while, the message was still the same….  I needed to be more submissive to my husband.  He needed to feel like he was the head of our household and whatever he said should be honored. 

 While living in Leesville, I was offered a job by a local telecommunications company.  It paid a little more than minimum wage.  I would be in charge of selling and creating commercials for their local origination station.  I loved this job.  We had three people in our department including our department head. And our job included everything from creating and videotaping programs for our independent station to selling ads.   I learned how to use a camera and how to film and edit videos. I had excelled to the point that they had even given me my own morning news show “Coffee with Chris.”  Now while that sounds impressive, it really isn’t.  The local station was only available to members of this newly formed cable company and there were probably a dozen subscribers that tuned in. But just the idea of it gave me more confidence in myself.  

While this job was getting increasingly demanding with my time, so was my husband.  He was extremely manipulative and controlling.  I loved this job and he hated this job.  We fought often over it and he demanded that I quit.  On one rainy afternoon, he had all he could take and accused me of cheating on him. He came to my place of business and while in the middle of an argument, he threw back his fist and hit me in the face.   The manager tried to step in but it only made my husband angrier so my manager backed off.

We stepped outside to talk. While I was pleading with him not to do this in front of the people I work with, he insisted that we take this matter up at home.  I started to get into our car but he locked the door and refused to let me in.   He pulled out a gun from the glove box and told me to start walking.  I started walking to our trailer which was about a mile from my work place.  He drove the car slowly behind me hollering at me outside the window. I had wondered the entire time that I was walking in the rain why someone wasn’t coming to my rescue.  Didn’t anyone see what he was doing to me?   

We reached our home and he escorted me into the house pointing the gun at me.  While we were inside, he pointed the gun at my face and commented on how no one would find me attractive anymore after ‘he was finished with me.’   I didn’t know that the gun wasn’t loaded.  And as he continued to humiliate me and threaten me, I wondered how I was going to escape.  Finally, the police drove up.  Obviously the manager at my place of business had shared the incident with the local police.  They drove up and placed him under custody.  He spent the afternoon in the jail.  A police officer stayed behind to take my statement and informed me that I would have to press charges to keep him there.  With no family there and no place to go, I did what many women do, I dropped the charges. I’m sure you’re thinking what a stupid thing to do and you’re probably right. But what most people don’t realize is that when you’ve been controlled and manipulated, the fear of what your husband will do with you if you don’t drop the charges is part of this crazy game of survival.  I probably should have packed my bags then and left.  But leave to go where?  With what money?  I couldn’t go home because I didn’t want to involve them.  I had vowed ‘for better or worse, till death do us part’ and I meant it.  

I did worry that he would come home and continue his rampage but he didn’t. I guess the idea that he could go to jail for this kept him at bay for a little while anyway. His verbal abuse and physical abuse continued.

I tolerated the situation for another two years before I had decided that this was not what God had intended for me. And I didn’t come to that conclusion based on any previous advice that I had received from any of my preacher friends.  In fact, I sat down and read the Bible from cover to cover excluding Revelations, for obvious reasons.  When I finished reading the Bible, I shut the book and said out loud “I know what to do now. I’m getting a divorce.”

 I set out to save what little money I could so I could eventually escape this life of hell.  I was working in Minden and my husband was working in Shreveport.  We drifted further and further apart. I finally left him and we divorced.  It wasn’t an easy break up but I knew that I could not live the rest of my life like this.  I was willing to do whatever it took to get away from this man. Fortunately he was involved with a young woman at his place of business and the timing was perfect for leaving him.

Breaking the cycle is the key but it’s not as easy as people would like to think.  I was lucky that I had youth on my side and that we did not have any children.  I think if we had had a child, I would probably be just another statistic right now.  It’s not painful for me to talk about this.  Time and maturity have helped to heal those wounds. I have taken control of my own life and my own destiny and I’m not afraid of the consequences.  It’s not easy to stand strong.  But I can weather any storm now because I have a supportive and loving husband who has encouraged me and inspired me beyond anything I could explain here. 

 I do hope that my story helps shed some light on the various forms of domestic violence that exist in our society today.   From the school yard to our back yard….it’s all about control and manipulation.  And once we understand that maybe then we can find a more loving existence….that is certainly my prayer.