Living In Fear

I hope that my story will help other young women because it starts when I was a young woman, just developing who I was. I had been with my first abuser from the age of 15 until I was 25 years old. The psychological and emotional damage was profound. During a time in my life when I should've been establishing myself as an individual, I was being told by him, who I was and the picture he painted was not pretty. So, having spent ten years of my life being told that I was stupid, worthless and the rest, I became dependent upon him.
I had no self-confidence. I really believed that I could not make it on my own.
I had aspirations of going to college, but that never happened. He wanted to go to school first and I should wait until he was finished. We got married, because I really thought I loved him and that I was no one without him.
Three years into our marriage I became pregnant. I was thrilled! At first so was he.
At first...
By the time I was seven months pregnant, he was having an affair with a teenaged girl and I moved back home with my mother. Then, after getting his girlfriend pregnant, he asked me to give my baby up for adoption!
Because being alone with a brand new baby scared the Hell out of me, I took him back when my son was a few months old.I was on welfare, but by the time the rent was paid I had $25.00 to pay for everything else.
Nothing changed in his behavior. I was determined to stick it out though, for my son's sake. I did not think I could do it alone. I was afraid of being homeless and going hungry. To me, it seemed like the only way I would make it was to take him back.
By the time my son was two years old, I knew that living this way was bad for him; so, I left.
I had a job and thought everything would be okay. In fact, I had two jobs to support my boy and me, so I worked hard at them both. Being that I had a job, I did not qualify for any assistance from the government. Welfare was not an option.
I lived in a dangerous neighborhood because that was all I could afford.
When I lost my full time job, I moved in with the guy I had been dating, and he became husband/abuser #2.
I was afraid of being homeless again and he seemed like a good guy, at the time.
When the relationship with Price Charming began to dissolve into abuse I still had no idea that I was being abused, that is, until he hit me the first time.
Being that I still had no identity, I felt helpless and alone. I still was dealing with my ex, because we had a child together and he wasn't making things any easier for me. In fact, he tried to use my second husband against me in court to say I was an unfit mother.
That's when I hit bottom.
After three arrests for beating me, I finally found the help I needed in the form of a support group. This is when my eyes began to open and I learned that I had been abused over the previous 14 years, not just by Prince Charming, but by my first husband too. I left Prince Charming once; I moved out while he was at work one day, but I went back. He found me and threatened suicide, and promised to change his ways. I was still scared of being on my own and fell for it all.
I began the journey of building my own identity. I wasn't getting what I wanted out of life, but became determined to get it.
I finally realized that all of the things I was afraid of where holding me in a state submission, and that the only was to be happy was to break free. I had been raising my son alone all of this time, so I didn't need a man in my home.
For my 30th birthday, I had Prince Charming arrested for biting me, and never looked back. I divorced him.
I hadn't gone back to single motherhood, I had never stopped being a single mother. No man I had ever been with ever co-parented with me, so I decided that I could make it on my own.
Incidentally, my first husband never went back to school while we were together. He waited until we were divorced. Nice kick in the teeth for me.

What was I so afraid of?
Being homeless
Not being able to take care of my son
Being beaten again for entertaining the thought of leaving
That he would kill himself and it would be my fault
Not having any money
Having my son taken from me
Being as crazy as they'd kept telling me I was

My mind had been messed with and it took a lot of effort to get my head on straight again. I had been told and convinced that I was crazy; that things that I thought happened never did, that things that were said never were, that I was over reacting to everything that never happened, etc..
Prince Charming's mother once told me that I was over reacting to being bitten; that having her son arrested for such a little thing was outrageous.

One day I realized that I was not crazy, that it was my life that was crazy and that I was the only person who could change it. This realization came after 20 weeks in a support group. I also learned that I did not have to admit failure. I did the best I could with what I had, and the failure was theirs, not mine. I learned that if I was strong enough to endure this abuse that I was strong enough to stop it.

I would get up early each morning to give myself a chance to wake up. I'd drink several cups of coffee, while working on a crewel project. By early, I'd be out of bed by 3:30 A.M. to get ready for work at 5:00. Most mornings, I'd wake up alone, except for my two-year-old, sleeping in the next room.

Most mornings, I had gotten only three or four hours of sleep the night before; I'd spend most of the night pacing.

My husband got off work at 10 P.M. but didn't typically get home before I had to leave for work at 4:30 A.M.. I wasn't afraid of him being in an accident. I wasn't really afraid of him being in jail. (A little voice inside my head told me that he was safe and sound in someone else's bed.) What I was afraid of was being late for work.

I could not afford to lose my job; I had already decided to leave him. I needed to find a second job and someone to watch my boy, while I worked.

I longed for my lost love to come and rescue me from this drudgery.

When he'd finally come in the door, I was out it just as fast. I'd work my shift until 3:00 P.M., pick up my boy and go look for an apartment. By the time I'd returned home, he would be gone to work. Whew! An evening alone with my son. After I put my son to bed, the whole process would repeat.

Deep down, I didn't mind his absence. It meant no yelling or fighting. However, knowing that he was out drinking and sleeping around didn't please me about his not being home. I had reached my breaking point. I could not take living this way any longer.

He begged me for a second chance and this is how he uses it? It didn't take him two weeks to go back to the behavior that he demonstrated while I was pregnant. I've given him a long enough leash. It's time to walk away. It's past time to walk away. I must rescue myself, if Trampus will not return.

How it all started
How it is ending

I had to leave because:
I needed to feel safe
I did not love him anymore
I was emotionally broken
among other things...

A great many women stay in abusive relationships because of their religious beliefs. They were raised to believe that man is their lord and master and that if they do not please him they deserve to be punished. In fact, there are religions that promote wife beating. I know, it is insane, but it is true.
Religion dictates that women are to be subservient to men. However, religious books do not tell men to beat their wives. Religion is used for justification, nonetheless. Personally, I find it sickening.
Domestic violence occurs all over the world, regardless of income, religion, or social status. In countries where the government is based upon religious tenets (theocratic), domestic violence is more prevalent than in democratic societies. And, abusers are far more likely to evade punishment, for they are not deemed criminal.
To love and express loyalty does not mean acceptance of abuse.
No woman deserves to be abused EVER.
Nothing a woman does or does not do is justification for abuse of any kind.

The first thing you must wrap your brain around is that this is not your fault. Second, you cannot change your abuser, so don't even try. The only person you can change is you.
Talk to people. Confide in your friends and family, but do not share with those who are fans of your abuser, (his family and friends) it will blow up in your face, so be selective in who you talk to, but you must talk about it.
Look for resources in your area to help you. Do not be ashamed. Do not be afraid.
Document everything that transpires between you and your abuser. Keep a journal. Not only will journaling help you keep a record, but it will help you sort out your thoughts and feelings. Writing put things into perspective for me.
Find a support group. Call your local women's shelter.
Always remember that you have value; you derserve to be loved and respected and you are strong.

Do Not let fear control you.

When you purchase any upgrade option (3-poster set, art print or framed poster) we will send a poster to a women and children's shelter in your community. You select the facility and we can include your name as the donor if you wish, or you can remain anonymous. You can even have the poster shipped to you so you can drop it off yourself. If you just want your inspiring poster to go where it's most needed, we can select a good home for you. Click here to read complete details.

In my first marriage I was afraid of the man's words.
He told me that I was stupid, which I am not; he told me no one else would want me, which was a lie. He got in my face and screamed at me for everything. I was afraid that every hateful thing he'd ever said about me was true.
I was afraid that I could not raise and support a child on my own because I was so worthless. I was afraid that my son would grow up to be like his dad, and that is what put my feet in motion.
In my second marriage I was fearful of the man.
I was afraid I couldn't take care of my son alone. I was afraid that if I left he'd find me. I was afraid of being hurt, physically, I was afraid to come home from work at night. I never knew who I'd meet at the door: Dr. Jekyll, or Mr. Hyde. I was afraid of what others would think of me. I was even afraid of what others would think of him, if you can believe that.
After coming home to an empty house, devoid of any telephones, to find a knife stuck in the counter, next to an empty beer can, I feared for my life.
To this day, I am grateful that he never hurt my son, or hurt me in my son's presence.
Both men used my son to control me.
During the reign of Prince Charming, I was not allowed to spend time with my mother or brother. I was accused of sleeping with everyone I worked with, including the women, and I had to account for every thing I did and every place I went.
When it came to money, he didn't even know how to write a check, so I paid for everything. When I went to the grocery store, he would take the receipt and subtract everything he didn't use: tampons, diet soda, etc.. and give me a third of the new balance. He'd give me third of the rent, utilities and the rest was up to me. I guess he thought that my son should have to pay his own way, since he'd only give me a third.
Eventually I realized that if I was already paying for 2/3 of everything not related to my child and 100% of the things that did relate to him that I could pay for it all myself, which helped me to kick him out.
Once we had an argument in a restaurant, and he got up and left me there. I had a friend come get me and take me home. When I got home I was accused of having sex with her in her car. (I am not now, nor have I ever been bi-sexual; although he wanted me to have sex with a female co-worker of his. He wanted to watch. Too bad for him; it never happened.)
He was addicted to pornography and forced me to watch it with him. When I tried to refuse he'd freak out.
Finally, since my friends could not deal with him, my list of friends dwindled to two people. My friends had become afraid of him too. I felt powerless. I did not have control of my own life, but I would take it back.
The first time I left Prince Charming, I was so afraid of being found that I had my car painted a different color. I changed the tires from the wide ones I had to regular tires so my car couldn't be identified. I even changed my license plate.
None of it worked; he found me anyway. He followed me home from work.I went back because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't.

Since my first husband did not get violent with me, he was easier to leave. I was afraid of him, but if I left I wouldn't have to hear him; so, I found a place to live and packed up my little boy and left. He harassed me for awhile, but I handled it. He begged me to take him back and I said no.

The first time I had Prince Charming arrested, the police told him to go to his parent's house and not to return to me. I had gotten a temporary restraining order against him. While he was in jail, I had one of his friends come get his things and take them to his mom and dad's.
Sadly to say, this was not the end of it.
Breaking the restraining order, Prince Charming called me and gave me the song and dance of change. I believed him. I went to court and let the TRO (temporary restraining order) go and let him come back. Next, I left him, but fell for the same old lies and returned.
The roller coaster resumed its maniacal course, and I was lost again. Clinging, white-knuckled, to keep from being pitched off the side.
I made the decision to break free, once and for all, after being bitten, right before my 30th birthday. I took a photograph of the bite mark and gave it to his probation officer, who promptly has him arrested for a probation violation.
This time he would not come back.

The police told him not to show up at my house under any circumstances and that if there were things belonging to him in the house to have a friend get them. That's what he did. I had all of the things he wanted stacked neatly in the living room when his friends arrived.
Not wanting to go back to jail, Prince Charming watched the whole scene through binoculars, from down the street.
This was not the end though. He stalked me, watching me from a far, keeping tabs on my life.
I know that he did this because he would call me on the phone and ask me questions that I knew he already knew the answers to; like if I was seeing anyone else, etc..He'd seen a truck with a Colorado plate on it, parked outside my house. He'd seen my man building a snow man outside with my son.
He started calling to threaten suicide again too. I wasn't going to cave and didn't. I called his therapist and told him that his patient was suicidal and to keep him away from me. I owe a lot to my friends and family for being supportive through this transition.
It worked! He stayed away from me, but once I'd left the state, he found me and began writing me letters; from jail! He'd been arrested again for beating his new girl friend.

Thank God I never had any children with this man, or I would have had a much more challenging time getting away from him.