In The Begining

 "Why did you stay?" 

That is the question I'm asked most often.  I stayed for many reasons that I don't recommend now.  The reasons also changed over the years.  In the beginning, I stayed because it was my second marriage so I already felt like a failure and I was going to make this marriage work...no matter what.  Raised as a "good Christian girl" I made vows to stay with Michael through thick and thin.  Marriage is work.  I knew it wasn't something to be thrown away lightly.  The problem is I wasn't taught that sometimes the right thing to do is leave.

Within the first week of being married Michael showed me a side of himself I never met while dating for a year. He knew that because I grew up with drug addicted brothers I was hard core anti-drugs.  I can still see him standing in our rented house in Orange, CA reaching for something on the top of the entertainment center.  He brought down a baggie of pot with a huge smile on his face.  He was very proud of himself for hiding the fact that he was a pothead.  I can only imagine the look of horror on my own face as he says, "Yep, I smoke pot.  I've always smoked pot.  And I'll continue to always smoke pot.  I know how you feel about it, but this is me so deal with it."  Part of the game is to pull something over on the victim.  He certainly had me fooled.  It broke my heart.  It was the start of breaking my spirit that kept me with him for seven years.

That was the first incident where I wanted to walk away.  Hindsight shows me that I should have, but this niggling voice in my head back then pointed out, "Your parents just paid thousands of dollars on a wedding. You're pregnant with his child and you have a 3 year old...what are you going to do if you leave?  Suck it up and stay. You're being too quick to judge."  Had I told my parents they would've paid a fortune for a divorce if need be, but I was afraid to tell them.  No, I made my own bed...I was going to work on this and make it right.

The handwriting was there on the wall to a future I couldn't yet see.  A future where after our divorce he would teach our daughter how to grow pot and to lie to me ...not just about growing pot, but about the bruises she received from her dad...she thought it was her fault.  No my sweet.  It was mine for not leaving sooner.

What I learned

From this I learned that when the person you marry misrepresents themselves...don't leave...RUN away.  What brings a couple together should be their strengths.  How can you built a solid foundation on lies?  You can't.  If you are loved, truly loved by another...they are concerned about your well being.  They want you to be happy.  They will not purposely manipulate you, pull you away from your family, use your religion against you or make you feel bad about yourself.

From the point Michael revealed this critical piece of information about himself that was anathema to my own feelings the marriage was dead.  What I didn't see at the time is that he already broke the vows of our marriage that I was so concerned with myself.  He did it without caring about me whatsoever.  Love cannot exist in this type of environment.  Love is the opposite of everything Michael did and continues to do.

My Christian upbringing pre-programmed me to not only accept the abuse to come, but to believe I had to stay to be a "good Christian".  Bullshit!   Michael used my religious upbringing against me.  "You're a Christian!  You can't leave me.  You made vows before God."  I did.  And so did Michael.  The problem was Michael saw me as a possession, not a person.  I was a toy for him to play with...nothing more.

Consequences of Staying Too Long

Twenty one years later I find that Michael skewed my view of love so much that I am afraid to love another man.  I am quick to leave when the healthy thing is to stay.  I remain a bit broken from this experience.  The real fear of meeting another Michael and not trusting myself enough to see it this time around is so overwhelming I choose the safety of single living to avoid it.  The consequence of course is sacrificing the chance of finding a loving partner.  The right man will come around.  By then I hope I've done the work to be ready to allow myself to be loved.  For real.

Why I Left, Black & Blue Prayer Came True

I left Michael in September 1998.

The morning after he threw my son, then a small boy of 9, against his bicycle that leaned against his bedroom wall leaving him bloody and bruised. My prayer for black & blue came true, but it blossomed on my son...not me...which was my trigger to leave.  While the "good girl" in me found it difficult to stand up for myself...you don't mess with my kids. I had enough.  I was done, but it wasn't over.

A Ninja Turtle Popsicle

The incident leading to my departure all happened because Sean purchased an ice cream with his own chore money from the ice cream truck.  You see his little sister, age 6, wanted one too.. naturally.  But Erin already spent all of her money.  She ran in asking daddy to give her money to buy ice cream while I was cooking dinner.  typically Erin had her dad wrapped tightly around her little finger...he would do anything for her.  Not this time.  Instead of giving Erin money Michael instructed her to tell her brother he wasn't allowed to buy one.  As she ran out I told him how ridiculous it was not to give her some money AND to have her carry out the message.  Michael often pitted the kids against one another.  My objections angered him because he was watching baseball and couldn't be interrupted or bothered to go talk to Sean himself.  In fear of him taking it out on me, I shut my mouth and continued cooking.  Erin didn't reach her brother in time so she came back crying that Sean got an ice cream and she didn't.

Ninja Turtle Popsicle

Michael rose from his seat in a blind rage...more because his game was being interrupted than being upset over the ice cream.  Storming out of the house he went after Sean.  When I reached the front door Michael was dragging a crying Sean through the rocks by the front steps leaving bloody streaks running down his bare knees.  Sean didn't fear Michael.  He hated him. He provoked him by calling him names and standing tall in defiance...until Michael threw away his ice cream.  Furious at the injustice of his "dad's" actions they both fought verbally while I tried to stop it.  Sean insisted he could buy whatever he wanted with his own hard earned money.  Michael began to tell him...FINE...then you can also pay rent for using MY baseball bat with your hard earned money.  Due to this incident Sean refused to ever play his beloved sport again.  Michael continued his rant....It'll cost you 5 cents for each square of toilet paper you use to wipe your ass, a penny for every drop of water used to wash or flush the toilet and $2 per meal your mother makes you with MY money.  How's that?"  Sean called him a fat asshole...which I (out of hysteria & amazement at his boldness) laughed at...Sean grinned at me through hot tears...Michael did not. He grabbed Sean's ice cream (a Ninja Turtle Popsicle) out of the trash and ran it under hot water to dissolve down the drain.

I watched in horror as Michael made his full transition from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde there in our kitchen.  You can (still) see it in his face... his eyes go blank, his posture changes, his facial expression turns comically angry and red...it's like watching an actor's portrayal of being possessed by a demon.  Michael grabbed Sean by the shirt collar lifting him off the floor as he forced Sean to his room...away from me.  Michael said if I knew what was good for me I'd stay put...I froze in terror, but followed attempting to get Sean out of his grip.  He shoved me so that I fell part way down the basement stairs. Sean started hitting and kicking him for hurting his mom.  The screams still flood my senses 14 years later.  Erin flew down to help me up crying and yelling at her dad to STOP.  He didn't.

By the time I reached the top of the landing I heard a sickening THUMP as Sean's little body hit the bike.  Screams of pain and cursing filled the hallway.  Another thump and all I heard was deep sucking sobs from my son.  My heart fell.  Anger took over.  Forgetting the fear I ran to his room where Michael was blocking my entry.  I'm not sure how I ended up in the room, but there lay the crumpled form of my son on the floor with his bike on top of him.  This image was burned into my memory.  Erin is the only one that does not remember this horrible event.  Later Sean called 911 reporting the abuse that I was too afraid to do myself...because he was a child they hung up and called back.  Michael answered the phone nice as can be...oh it must've been a prank call from his son...he'll take care of it.  Oh god no.  I ran to Sean's room and stayed there the rest of the night to protect him from Michael.  Erin was already in his room...they fell asleep in my arms as I lay awake planning our escape.

The next morning after Michael left for work I called my parents.  Between my dad and brother's they had us packed up and moved out before Michael arrived home.  I left my platinum wedding ring with a note saying I wanted a divorce and not to contact me until he hears from my attorney.  I had enough.  Put a fork in me..I was done.

Both kids were in counselling with the psychologist by the end of the week.  I didn't want my kids scarred for life.  Little did I know what awaited us...the kids learned to keep secrets too...even from me.

Kristy

I Prayed For Black & Blue

Endless nights I prayed for black and blue.

External signs of the internal beating that bruised my experience of love

gone oh so wrong.

In the end…when I asked you why…

You said it was to make me stronger.

You said it was to make me fight back.

You said it was to make me stand up for myself.

You said it was to make my skin thicker.

You said it was because you loved me…

This Mother’s Day would’ve been my 21^st wedding anniversary.

I am thankful that it is not.  Seven years of living in hell were enough.

Today I read through my journals.  Today I will remember. 

I remember so I will never forget.

I remember so I know how far I’ve come and what it means to be free.

I remember so I will see the signs and never be lulled into that darkness again.

I remember because you made me who I am today and am grateful.

I remember and thank you for making me…

Stronger

A fighter and a survivor

Able to stand on my own

Thicker skinned

Most importantly, I thank you for teaching me what love is not…and never should be.

Black & Blue.

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This week I walk down memory lane through the shadows of my domestic violence story...the seven years I was married to it and beyond.  Through sharing my story I hope other's will not have to live in a world of fear. Gone is my naïveté...in it's place is hard earned knowledge of a world I did not wish to know.  A world of invisible black and blue.


Kristy