I forgot I promised to post my entire column from the last issue of WONB heree. I had to cut it quite a bit for space... Here it is for everyone that wants to read more. I want to say though this was a very difficult thing to share, Truly allowing myself to be so raw, so transparent took a great deal of Trust in My heavenly father. God is good and I know that but sometimes I wonder about the world. My prayer is that someone will read this and be touched, find courage to change, God he can make anything beautiful and any of us who allow him even more beautiful. It is such a miracle to see the ugliness of a past bloom into beauty. GOD BLESS!


From the October WONB issue Full Column!

Have you ever known anyone in an abusive relationship or have you yourself experienced the power of fear produced through abuse? Most of us have probably encountered that friend at work that you wonder how she could be so accident prone, or where all the bruises really come from, those are the cases that leave visible signs for the world to consider but there are even more cases that you have no idea, maybe you eat lunch everyday with the kindest, funniest guy in the world, or the sweetest most gentile motherly woman you have ever met with no thought to the monster they become with the flip of a switch turning their rage and terror on those they love.

I can’t tell you that domestic violence is something I have never experienced, I can’t tell you its victims are foreign to me nor can I sit and ignore the truth as to who the abusers are parents, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents. From the greatest guy in the world leading the “picture perfect life” no one guessing the terror unleashed at random intervals, a father who raged incessantly and mothers who beat their children or left them to suffer abuse at the hands of others, those who through words alone destroyed and cut us to our inner core shaping the virtual image we would battle of ourselves even into adulthood and worse the stories of the victims that became themselves the abuser.

The faces of abuse are many and can be emotional, mental, physical or often a combination. I experienced physical abuse during my first marriage and I was not only the victim but played a part as abuser too. I actually grew to prefer the physical abuse verses the mental and emotional. I can still hear words fired at me like a high-powered semi-automatic weapon, I would take a slap, a push or a kick over the words, words that ring in my head still today. In fact I grew to the point that I would lunge at him knowing that once I physically put myself in the path of his words I would no longer hear them and I would be free from the sting. I was not free from fault and still not sure where the pattern began and why I believed our behaviors were acceptable. In the end I know I was terrified of everything. The man I was married too was a stranger to me as I was a stranger to myself.

I can recall standing outside of a hotel room begging the man I had married the father of my child, to let me have my precious baby, ultimately we struck a deal, I went to him and his brother took my baby placing him in the arms of my mother. With the knowledge that my little boy was safely back in Texas, I raged planning to escape the madness of my life, I beat this man, clawed him, bit him and with every overpowering slap, kick or push I fought harder and finally called 911 and beating him on the head with the phone ran to freedom and the hotel parking lot, so I thought. I quickly learned that law enforcement officers really have no patience with domestic violence as they placed us both in handcuffs and I was anything but free. I don’t know that I really ever done much wrong in my life at this point, unless trying to make a bad marriage work is wrong. I only wanted to escape and return home to Texas instead I found myself in a stark, cold cell with women suspected of murder, stabbings and a heroine addict coming down. I cried and cried and the officers kept taking me out of my cell trying to make me understand that if I continued to cry one of those women would hurt me. I was beyond the capacity of comprehending, my head swam with guilt, fear, and disgrace and most importantly I Was confused how I could have called for help yet found myself in jail charged with assault!

Within twenty-four hours I was released, charges dropped and freedom was within my sights, taking cab back to the hotel I quickly discovered all of my personal belongings including my identification had been taken, I stood there lost, scared of everyone, ashamed and in fear. That is when my abuser became my protector, he had posted bail and everything we had was gone and the streets were our only answer and a life spent within the confines of the life he had lived secretly for years, a life of crimes, drugs and lacking anything familiar. I spent the next 6 weeks living a life that I cant even explain, I cant tell you the abuse I endured or the gripping fear that imprisoned me that if I did not do exactly as he said he would kill my baby, his words always rang in my head “I wont kill you I will make you live without your baby”. I knew that I couldn’t live without him and spent many nights wishing he would just kill me so my baby would be safe. I was afraid to ask anyone for help. My parents believed I had chosen this way of life, the cops had arrested me and my will to survive was gone except I had this precious baby waiting for his mommy in Texas, it had already been 6 weeks, I missed his first birthday. I really don’t remember much about the day I came home, except I was sitting on a bench outside a Denny’s when a man, a known drug dealer, told me to get in his car, I didn’t care anymore, there was no running from this life so I did, to my surprise he said these words to me “I am putting you on a bus home, you don’t belong in this world, you are different then the rest of us.” I wish I could tell you that nightmare ended here but it did not, in fact in many ways it had only begun.

It is an extremely long bus ride from California to Texas and during a very long wait in Los Angeles the nightmare began again as my abuser walked into the bus station and boarded the very bus I was bound for Texas on. I was convinced he would kill me before I made it home. Around Fort Stockton, I believe with my whole heart he might have killed me that day but a man on the bus set down next to me and offered me an apple, I still love apples to this day because it was the first food I had in days, and every time my ex would come close to me it was like he couldn’t break through this invisible wall protecting me. Once in San Antonio, waiting on my dad to pick me up in the middle of the night this angel said to me “Stay close to your earthly father and never take your eyes off your heavenly father” I swear to you that as my dad pulled up, this man simply wasn’t there.

My father fearful of losing his daughter and his grandson, tried to make peace with my ex and myself and through my insanity and my fear somehow, my ex convinced me yet again to go with him then he carefully planned to take our son from my parents. I cant remember everything step by step I only know that I remember seeing my cousin and walking straight to him and telling him “He is going to take him.” That day I stayed with my baby and thanks to simple support without judgment I found the strength to take my baby, we hid for weeks but eventually my ex-husband grew tired and left us alone, we divorced and I thought the terror was over.

I eventually terminated parental rights and re-married, what I didn’t know was that it would take me Eleven years before I even began to deal with the life I had once had, I did not know that to some extent I would become the abuser. My husband experienced verbal abuse, me cutting him down in anger and I can still do that. I couldn’t look at me and I suppressed many of the memories that occurred during that brutal six weeks. The unthinkable things I somehow believed were my fault, I believed that everything that happened to me from every sexual assault to every slap, every word that burned into me that I deserved everything I was getting. My self image was damaged to begin with, I never believed I was pretty enough and I always struggled with my weight, I suffer the most today with my self image.

I can’t believe that almost fifteen years later I have the courage to tell my story without fear of judgment. I share this story because Domestic Violence is serious and its real, Women are the victims, Women are the abusers, as either we need to break the cycle and the only way we can do that is to stop whispering about domestic violence, stop ignoring it, stop stereotyping and recognize women are in danger. The abuser, the victim both suffer in a silent pain that those of us who have survived can only pray another woman does not ever endure.

I pray that women will Stand together, be someone’s safe place to fall, be another woman’s friend. Mentor allow her to say to you I am scared, or I think I may be abusive and love her anyway, Pray with her, hold her love her. God is an amazing and Sovereign Lord and he can restore us all, be another’s woman hand of courage when fear is suffocating her, don’t judge her, And LOVE HER!