I met my husband when I was 16 years old. I lived in a beautiful small town off of the Chesapeake Bay that had a small beach. Many people would visit this town during the summertime because there was a nice private beach and a public beach. Most of us locals hung out at the private beach. My husbands family owned property in this town they would come down every weekend during the summer. Summers were awesome because we would spend every weekend on the beach, eating Maryland crabs and fresh corn from the farms and just having a good time. This particular weekend that I met my husband, he was grounded and forced to come to this town with his father. He was grounded because he was out drinking with his friends and he rolled his dads truck. (Sign number one that there may be future issues). It was the end of summer and this was the first time he had been to this town in years because he didn't enjoy coming to this town in his teenage years. We had met once before a couple years back and there was an instant attraction. I remember he wrote his and my name on a log with a heart around it. I later found it on the beach.
He was too embarrassed to ask me out on a date, so he had one of his friends ask me for him. We later went out on a date to the movies. It was fun and I really enjoyed how charming he was. We spent the next several years dating each other and we were in love. He would write me the most wonderfully beautiful passionate letters. He always always told he how much he loved me. He would outwardly show his affection not caring if people saw him holding my hand or putting his arm around me.
There were signs early on that he had abusive characteristics. First, he told me that his dad would always criticize him and that once when he got in trouble, his dad put his head through a wall. He always told me that he would never (NEVER) be like his dad. When you learn about how abuse is passed on from generation to generation, you see how these cycles repeat themselves.
Second, prior to dating my husband, I was dating another boy. After I broke up with him to date my husband, this boy began to stalked me and wouldn't leave me along. This went on for months. So my husband beat the crap out of him. (A third sign) Then, from that day forward, he would beat him up whenever he had the chance.
My husband and I didn't end up actually marrying each other until I was 23 (almost finished college). I would say that he always valued me and treated me good up until I had my first son. After having my first son, I had this overwhelming erg to stay home and raise him. We were making good money at the time. I presented him with the notion. He strongfully and willfully said NO. I tried to go to work but I was crying every day. I couldn't take the despair of being away from my 3 month old son. I just wanted to be with him. So, I quit my job.
My husband was so angry with me. It was like I became his enemy from that day forward. He refused to pay for anything associated with me. My truck got repossessed because I no longer made money and he refused to pay for it. He told me that I must bring in some form of income or I would pay, big time. I started to sell Longaberger baskets and find ways I could bring in an income to please him and because he would never give me money and I was always broke. But nothing I did satisfied him. He would embarrass and ridicule me in front of my friends essentially saying I was worthless because I didn't work. This went on for years. And it just spiraled out of control. I spent years trying to troubleshoot and find ways to make things better until I finally realized (after nearly 11 years of emotional and sometimes physical abuse) that I wasn't the problem, it was him.
Hey - you figured it out! If its okay with you, I'll mention that you just started a new blog and to come see you. I don't get a lot of traffic but it might help a little. Keep up the good work!
Posted by: Sarah | February 18, 2008 at 04:56 AM