My Verbally Abusive Marriage

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I am 14. I have opened my window, rotating it out just enough to see his headlights reflect in it when he turns down his driveway. I want him to return home, want him to come tapping on my window. I want to be his girlfriend.

He is the boy who raped me, on his couch, in only a few minutes, weeks before. But I didn’t want to call it rape. I wanted to call it love.

I wanted to have sex with him over and over and over again until I convinced myself that he was my first true love. For a few weeks that summer, I succeeded in doing that – at least most of the time.

But the tapping at the window and my subsequent hopping out of bed to glance out that window to see his face belied my true feelings. I was not Bess, the landlord’s daughter. He was not the bad boy Highwayman for whom I spent hours plaiting love knots into my long, dark hair.

Shame, dread, revulsion, … those feelings welled inside of me in between the taps on the window. The feelings’ poisonous nature sloshed around in my guts, eating and corroding my belly from the inside. Hyper-alert, unable to sleep, almost obsessive, I felt compelled to avenge my rape by pretending to control its circumstances; I couldn’t go back and control, re-do, what happened on the couch, but I could control whether it happened again, or again, or again. Continue reading

I am so excited!

A woman who is in the process of leaving her abusive husband decided to blog her story here on My Verbally Abusive Marriage!

She’ll go by the name RedVelvetRiches, and will post as often (or infrequently) as she likes.

Welcome to the blog, RedVelvetRiches. Thank you so much for your willingness to help.

My memories are like an old thriller that keeps replaying the same scenes when I go back and try to rethink it. I often catch myself trying to justify my childhood. When I think back to the horrible events that have happened over the years, I can tell you I’m grateful for my life today. I love who I have become. Although I can’t change my past I can understand it. Writing this will be the first time I have come clean, another way of putting it behind me. I’ve wanted to let this out for some time now.

My name is Joe. As a young boy, I lived with my mom and dad and my sister. My sister was my closest friend. She was part of me as I was part of her. Dad abused my mom, sister, and me. My dad, who I thought was a normal average father and husband.

In 1975, I was five and my sister was three. We had money at this time of my life because my dad held a good job and important job. I remember being proud of what my dad did for work. I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I wanted to be just like him.

He had come from a hard childhood, in an out of foster homes and being abused by his parents. Alcohol played a big role in Dad’s life. He drank while he was a young man and he still does. He also liked guns. My sister and I grew up under the threat of guns an booze. Continue reading

On January 22, 2012, it will be two years since I left my marriage. I’ve come so far since then; I did the right thing for my children and myself.

I’m having some “issues” today that I was going to discuss in this entry. But before I did that, I went back and took a look at the two entries that changed the meaning of this blog forever.

Today, I am fortunate to write “My Verbally Abusive Marriage…and what I’m doing in it” from a different perspective. The marriage was abusive, but it no longer exists. What I write now concerns how I’m moving past it and the abuse, and I am joyful that I am no longer “in it”.

On January 22, 2010, I left my home two times. The first time was the (what had become) the usual, run of the mill event: I left because I was scared, planning to return home after his temper had cooled or he had passed out. I took a blanket and my purse.  I left again only minutes after typing the last “Smack” in My Heart is Failing.

When I returned home, all hell broke loose. I ended up calling the police, but I had no showing bruises, so the cops would not remove him from the home (worthless!). I left because I truly feared what would happen after they pulled out of the driveway and left me alone with Will. Continue reading

There are agencies designed to help victims of domestic violence when they’re ready to leave the abusive relationship. Those same agencies may counsel victims of domestic abuse who are not yet ready to leave, but need support and information as they try to salvage their relationships. If you have access to those groups, then please use them. They’re free to you and have their fingers on all the resources available to you in your community.

Nevertheless, some victims of domestic violence do not or cannot access those services. And still others discover that although they’re plugged into community resources, they still feel hopeless, helpless, angry and scared.

I’ve been there. In the end, it boiled down to finding my voice (and drowning out his). I learned how to do it, and I can show you how to do it too.

It won’t take long to deliver the information; in fact, you’ve probably seen it on the free literature in your community. Yet actually taking the time to work through the emotionally draining steps can seem like too much when you’re carrying the weight of your and his worlds on your shoulders. I will help you go through the process safely and as serenely as possible.

I understand your trepidation – this process doesn’t have to end with you leaving your marriage or relationship – you decide when or if you leave that important facet of your life behind. I’ll support you either way.

The fee is $60 for two hours of mentoring via phone. If you’re interested, contact me and I’ll guide you.

Contact Me

How was your Thanksgiving? Mine was great, minus the turkey dinner, minus my kids. I did have my boys with me Thursday morning. We ate strawberry shortcakes and drank coffee. I got them caffeinated and sugared up for the day at their dad’s house! I just can’t figure out why that man doesn’t love me anymore.

Just kidding. I know why he doesn’t love me. He’s found my replacement. I’m thankful for that.

I’m also thankful for the sausage gravy and biscuits, the call from my sister, and, perhaps mostly, Max’s company.

I like how Katheryn Lee-Ryder named her radio series “Roadmap to Freedom”. It’s the perfect name for people stuck in abusive relationships! Sometimes victims stay because there’s no direction on how to free themselves.

Abuse diminishes our ability to see our way free. We victims become reliant on the most unreliable source in the world (our abuser!) for help and how-to-almost anything.

Your abuser isn’t going to give you a map to freedom, but I think Ms. Lee-Ryder will.

If you’re interested in learning more about her program, Click Here!

On March 1, 2010, I wrote a post called I Want to Lie to You. I wanted to protect myself from judgment by not telling the truth.

My life is different now. I know that the choices I make will be judged by others. The difference between now and then is that I am willing to let you think what you want without allowing your judgments to guide my actions.

I know that the decisions I make come from my core, my center. I know that I can’t go wrong when I listen to Spirit (aka God).

I am a work in progress, and I will be a better person because I willingly learn from my decisions that result in successes or mistakes. My mistakes, past and future, do not define me. My successes define me.

I gave the document attached to I Want to Lie to You to my now ex-husband as a final attempt to save our marriage. Weeks after receiving it, he told me, “I will never go to counseling.” His statement told me everything I needed to know. I was free. I’d done everything I could; he wasn’t willing to meet me anywhere near the middle. Continue reading

Dear God,

I know what you’re asking me to do. You want me to take another leap of faith.

When Will put his hands on me on January 22, 2010, I did leave. But I didn’t want to. I cried when I filled out the ex parte order. I cried when the judge approved it and handed me my copy over the top of her high mahogany bench.

I took that leap of faith, and You were waiting there for me on the other side of that fear.

When I moved from my marital home into the peaceful house I now rent with the past year’s tax return in my pocket, I didn’t yet have a job, not even a prospect at that time.

I took that leap of faith, and You were waiting there for me on the other side of my fear. Continue reading