Anonymous
It is a beautiful Spring day, there is a pot of chicken stock just getting started, the dryer is going, and I wish my husband would get home because I love being with him.
Two years ago I could not have said the same thing. When my ex was gone, I wished he would stay that way. After 17 years of marriage, and 6+ years of horrific mental, emotional, and physical abuse, I wished he would die.
It had all started with sex, and me not wanting it enough. Those were his words. At the time we had two little boys, I had a full-time job, we were building a house, and money was tight. I was exhausted from doing the job, the daycare runs, the bill paying, the cooking and cleaning and laundry; I did not want to have sex. Even though we’d still ‘do it’ every other night or so, our fights over how cold I was became epic – my clothes were ripped off of me more than once; I was shoved into many a wall; I was called a ‘fat cow,’ and ‘ice queen,’ a ‘frigid bitch.’ It became so very bad that one night I told him if he wanted sex twice a day like he said, I’d give him twenty bucks and he could hire a hooker.
But no. Hookers weren’t good enough for him. He wanted something more. I told him to just go ahead and take a lover then, because I was done fighting. He took THAT suggestion to heart, and took it farther than I could have imagined. He found himself a ‘girl,’ a slave to satisfy his BDSM longings, and moved her into our home. It beggars all description now, how I could have agreed to that, but hear me when I say that when a furious, insanely drunk man to whom you are married tells you that either you allow this other woman into your home or he’s going to take the children one day when you’re at work and leave without a trace (or even worse, he’s going to take ‘the smart one’ and leave ‘the reject’ with YOU), you allow things to happen that boggle the mind.
There were actually two girls. The first left in less than a year because he was monstrous to her. I was jealous of her for getting out. The second one was much less independent, and even after having had her nose broken by him, stayed on. In some odd way, I felt vindicated by their misuse. Their abuse informed me that I was not the one to blame for his anger.
If you think that having the girl protected me, you would be so very wrong. There were still the 3 a.m. 3-hour brow-beatings, there was still the wall-punching and the name calling, the threats and insinuations. There was still the overarching responsibility of making him happy’ so that he wouldn’t HAVE to get angry. For three years I lived this way, until the final straw occurred. It was a cereal flake, actually, or his perceived lack of them, that broke me. The lack of cereal, to him, was all my fault. That lack of cereal threw him into a fury, he screamed obscenities, hurled epithets, blasted me with insults. It was the first time he’d behaved like this when the kids were awake, and I knew for sure they could hear every foul word boiling from him.
I recall deciding not to care. My brain went dark. I shut off the hurt, threw down the burden, and started thinking of a way out. Two weeks later, we had ‘the conversation.’ Telling him I was out of the marriage was frightening, there could have been dangerous battle as a result and I could have easily wound up with his hands around my neck, again. Once the words were out of my mouth though, something left him, deflating him somehow. I’d crushed him, which was shamefully satisfying.
It was hard as hell walking out that door. It was hard as hell admitting I’d failed at marriage. It was hard as hell living on bare bones and hope for months on end. It is hard as hell sharing custody of our boys with him. It’s hard as hell writing a check out to him every month for his support. But ‘hard as hell’ isn’t really hell. I should know, because I lived there for far too many years. It’s possible to get out of hell, and it’s almost never too late.
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This blogger asked to remain anonymous because she has never mentioned any of this on her own blog.
34 Responses to “Anonymous”
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YOU have to pay this SOB?! You?! Good God and people say divorce laws always fall in favor of “the woman.”
I am so sorry that you had to endure this and that you still have to endure it by shelling out cash to this monster. It’s blood money, plain and simple. But, if that is what it takes to keep you and your children out of that ungodly horrible situation, then I guess it’s worth every cent.
Thank you for having the courage to get out, speak up and be heard. Hopefully, it has been a cathartic experience for you. I know it will help someone else. It sounds like you have found the peace and happiness you so richly deserve. Amen!
Anonymous, you didn’t fail at marriage – that is NOT what marriage is.
Your courage is evident is every word. I don’t know you and yet I’m sitting here *proud* of you.
Thank you for sharing here.
Wow! Thank you for sharing your story. I’m so glad you found your strength and got out.
Thanks for your kind words.
Yes – payment. I’m the one with the full-time job and benefits, not him. I couldn’t allow my children to live part-time in a home where there was no money coming in and with someone who could easily bash me to them as being unsupportive. It could happen, and that check I write each month is a partial guarantee hat it won’t. I have a little more than 2.5 years left on the payment agreement; who knows what will happen after that?
In fairness, my story is even more complicated than what’s put forth here; but let’s just say that there was enough blame to go around for the dissolution of several marriages. I had my part in it as well, because I’d just given up on trying to love or respect him, and that is an awful way to feel.
wow. i’m glad you walked away. but i hope in the future you won’t have to share your boys with him, as bad as it sounds, they shouldn’t have to be around someone like that. i wish you all the best.
Thank you for sharing your story. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your shoes. Bless you.
I have to be careful what I say here, because I do know you, and knew part of this story before. But not this much. Not this part. And as much admiration as I had for you before, it’s only multiplied now.
And I get the part about the money. I know myself that there are some prices that are worth paying for the right reasons, even if they’re not “small”.
When you told me you’d sent in your story, you said you hoped it would help someone else. And trust me, it will. Someone is living this very life right now. Someone who hasn’t yet reached the point you finally did. Someone who hasn’t found the strength to leave, or that hasn’t yet figured out that it’s not her fault. Someone who perhaps believes all the things she’s been told — is still being told — and can’t figure out how to “be better”. Someone who hasn’t figured out that there’s no way to be “good enough” in the eyes of that one.
You’ve become the girl who “saved you” to someone today. But because you had the guts to face the truth, you get to do what she did without the bruises and broken bones. Which makes me stupid happy, because you did enough of that already.
Thank you. Your kind of story is what makes VU work, makes it what it is. And you’ve just made more of a difference than you’ll ever fully realize.
so often we find ourselves settling for less than we think we deserve because, fundamentally, we fear failure. i watched this with my own mother. her staying because she just couldn’t fail. not again. she couldn’t ask for help because that meant she failed at taking care of herself, failed at protecting me, proved her parents right that she was incapable of succeeding.
the fact that you got out, that you are here writing about it, that you deal with it still on a daily basis is, by the way, the complete opposite of failure.
you have succeeded.
and you have helped someone today. i feel it, i know it, i can practically taste it.
and maybe you saved a mother (or a father). which means you saved her/his children.
i am filled with pride for you, anonymous. filled.
What fool of a judge decided that disgrace to men would be an acceptable father? Ugh! I hope his newest girlfreind got away too. I’m so glad you are free and I will pray for your kids to be free as well.
You failed at nothing.
Anonymous, please realize you did not fail. You succeeded in that you removed your children (at least part time) from that situation. You showed them that no one should tolerate this type of abuse. Thank you for sharing your story.
You failed at NOTHING! He failed as a husband and a human being.
No failing. Just new beginnings.
Blessings on you.
You did not fail at marriage. HE did.
Thank God you had the courage to leave.
Not a failure. A successful escape. Congrats on being strong.
You have balls of steel. For real, that takes amazing courage.
Jeez! My heart goes out to you and your kids. I hope you are all getting therapy, because that kind if insanity leaves deep scars. Alanon and Alateen really do help. And I have a great lawyer if you want to deny visitation . I have had custody of my niece for 16 years, and can deny visitation if either parent is abusing alcohol or drugs.They haven’t visited once. But that genetic factor of alcholism/addiction will haunt all of us forever.
I hold you close. You are an amazing person. I am honored to know you.
Anonymous, you didn’t fail and I hope you can one day get past feeling like you gave up loving/respecting him. He didn’t deserve your love or respect. He failed you miserably. You are a bright shining light in sharing your story and for having the courage to find a new beginning for you and your boys. You are strong. I wish you peace, healing and harmony.
You are a hero to me. Not in the celebrity way, but in the Medal of Honor definition of going above and beyond the call of duty. Your spirit not only survived this season, but is thriving and generously giving to others. Sharing your story is a big deal, and I too am very proud of you for that. Moreso for your deeds and motives. I count you a treasure of humanity.
Bless you for sharing your story with us. You exemplify the occasion when the right thing to do is get out. For yourself, for your children. At whatever cost. You demonstrate a strength, perseverance and resilience that will save others.
that was incredibly well-written
I’ve been there and I can honestly say I truly understand. I’m glad you got out.
I thank my lucky stars I haven’t gone through that and I want to thank you and all of the people who share their stories because I am now at least aware that if this were to happen to me, I am not alone. Congrats on getting out!
You did not fail, you were so strong for getting out like you did. Thank you for being brave enough to share this story
I am so sorry you and your kids went through such hell. I sincerely hope he’s a better father than he was a husband. Thank you for having the courage to survive and to share your story.
Thank you for sharing. Your raw courage and honesty are an inspiration. Blessings to you!
take pride that you got yourself and your children away. You are a shining example to them that anything is possible and there is no such thing as ‘NEVER’.
Congratulations, you are strong, independent woman.
What an amazing woman you are. I’m so happy that you have left that awful situation and are moving on with your life. You’re a hero!
What a horrifying story – as they all are.
But please realize something – YOU did not fail at marriage. HE did. A marriage requires two partners, and someone who treated you so inhumanely doesn’t qualify as anything even close to a partner.
What an amazingly strong woman you are.
Like everyone else is saying, you did not fail at marriage. He failed at being a human being.
I’m so sorry for the pain you endured.
I’m so happy for you that you got out.
I’m appalled that you have to pay him even one cent. That seems wrong on many levels to me, but I know you do what you have to do.
Thank you for sharing your story and for showing everyone reading your story that it is possible to get out of a lousy marriage and survive.
Oh my god, I’m speechless. You’re paying him? Shared custody? I know real world solutions aren’t perfect, but . . . . I’m not even sure I should say this, though. Because getting out was the main thing, and you’re safe now. Wow. Thanks for sharing.
liz
wow,
just.
wow.
glad you are out, that you are happy, that you’ve found peace. i hope you can do something to stop the visitation with him… no child needs to be exposed to that kind of life.
Holy Hell. Bless you for getting the f&#* out of there. And congratulations to the man who gets you now!