I had this story up on my blog when a few women protested that they didn’t want their stories up for all to see. I immediately took them down. Arianna told me that she gave me the story so that I could share it with others. Hopefully it helps someone. If you have a story, or knows someone who does and would like to have it told, contact me at:
Let Finding Hope’s Ministry help you tell your story. You have a voice! Meghan
I was seventeen when I moved out of my parent’s house. My mother was an abusive alcoholic. I was dating a boy from another school for my entire high school experience. Shortly after graduation, I discovered I was pregnant. I felt that I could raise my child on my own because I had my own place and a full time job. However, I was coerced into marriage by his family.
Shortly after our marriage my husband began to change. I thought this was due to his young age, the unplanned responsibility of a marriage and a new baby in the house. He began going out to drink with his friends. This quickly changed into in-house parties with porno movies as the primary source of entertainment. I would keep myself and my child out of the areas in which the party was taking place. The aftermath however was terrible. If I happened to engage in any trivial conversations with my spouse’s friends, I would be accused of flirting then beaten as punishment for being polite.
Soon I acquired a part-time job as a source of escape. This left my husband a short time where he had to be responsible for our child, the house hold and everything associated with that role. After work I would come home to every room being an absolute mess, the baby in dirty diapers and in some cases unfed. Even so, I was unwilling to give up my small amount of freedom- I say that because he used to time how long it would take me to go to the grocery store (or anywhere) and if I was one minute late, I got a beating. He seemed to think I was cheating on him, but how does one do that with a child in tow and several bags of groceries? I made the mistake of pointing that out once…the couch broke as I was thrown onto it and it flipped over, slamming me into a hardwood floor.
This continued for three more years with several paranoid events. He didn’t like my friends I had acquired at my part time job. He would lock me out of the house by changing the locks, take my car keys so I couldn’t go to work and make several calls to my job site to assure I was really at work. During this time he got a job that required traveling. He was supposedly going to the Philippines to do quality control on a product his company was producing. He also disappeared one night and came home the next morning with no shoes on his feet. He said he fell asleep in a local park and someone stole his shoes. Being young and naïve I believed him, right up until one of my new friends came knocking at my door at 1:00 A.M. on a Friday night.
As I opened the door and saw the look of fury on her face, I just stared perplexed as she glided past me. She went to the kitchen and started a kettle of water for tea. I followed her, a bit afraid to speak. She turned to me and told me to sit down. As we sat at the kitchen table she asked me the dreaded question, “Do you know where your husband is?” I said, “Yes, he is in the Philippines doing some quality control tests.” Sarcastically, she replied, “Really? Have you ever seen any expense receipts?” Being the trusting wife, I had never asked. Then as tears began to gather in my eyes, I asked her why she was asking me all these questions. She hugged me and told me that she had just seen my husband in a bar. Still being the trusting wife I said, “Are you sure?” She was positive. He was so drunk he had even tried to pick her up.
When he appeared two days later, I questioned him, which earned me the worst beating to date. I called my friend and she came right over to get me and my child out of the house. My husband punched me in the face right in front of her. She scrambled to get the baby and as she methodically gathered stuff we would need, he followed her around explaining that he really didn’t hit me. He was such a good pathological liar that he almost had her convinced. Then she yelled, “Are you kidding me, I saw you and I am pressing charges on her behalf.”
His parents had him move back in with them until things “calmed down,” but he kept breaking into our rented house; he was taking furniture, the baby’s stuff and whatever pleased him.
Secretly my friends moved us to a secure apartment complex without notifying him. We did this while he was at work so that he couldn’t interfere. The police in town were great friends of his parents…need I say more.
The move was a success, but soon there was a warrant for my arrest for abducting my child. He could have communicated with me through work, but told the police that I had moved to South Carolina. Then friends and family began calling me to let me know they had been questioned by the police. I called the police in my new town and notified them of the situation and why I needed the protection.
Well, news travels quickly. On the day I was supposed to go to court for sole custody of my child, my windows in my car were smashed, tires slashed and my ignition was disassembled. I called the local police and a kind officer gave me a ride to the court house, waited for me and returned me home.
I had a restraining order placed again him for myself and my child. Later my work place also had to acquire a restraining order against him too due to his on-site disruptions. He continues to bother me even today, but I’ve moved on with my life, ignoring his threats.
Leaving does not mean failure, but preservation. In some cases leaving is needed for true success. I do not believe that “strength to endure” means we need to endure spousal abuse or abuse of any kind. I believe it means that God gives us strength to endure by striking out on your own, possibly with children and no monetary funds. God will give you strength to break the bonds of despair, strength to stop the pity parties, strength to pick yourself up, and dust yourself off and say, “I am worth something!”
“I am worth something!” Say this to yourself as many times as you must, because once beaten we begin to believe that we are nothing. It takes a whole lot of reaffirmation to return to being a someone again.