Thanks for reading my story. It’s kind of a crazy one, but it’s a very true one.
I met my first husband in 1992, waiting tables at a local steak house. He was new, a dishwasher, and worked with my cousin back there. My cousin told him that I was having a party that weekend and invited him to come. Long story short, he did, and we started dating. I soon found out I was pregnant, and he asked me to have an abortion. I refused and was planning on raising our child alone, with help from my parents, where I still lived. My mother held a baby shower, and I got everything I needed and then some. My ex called me a couple weeks later and wanted to talk. So we talked and he apologized seemingly sincerely, and we got back together. He was a little different this time, yelling at me all the time, picking fights, just being an A hole. Then one day, in an argument, he slapped me. I was in shock, and 8 months pregnant. He apologized and I believed him. I went into labor about a month early after we had sex one night, and he had been very aggressive and almost forceful. It started my labor. Our son was born a few hours later with no complications. I took our baby back home to my parents house with me, and he was loved. My mom babysat for me so I could work at a hosiery mill down the road. Junior was a happy baby and his father came over on the weekends to see us. But I noticed that when he stayed the night, Junior would just burst out crying uncontrollably sometimes. I would pick him up and comfort him and do whatever I could to get him back to sleep. It never dawned on me that his father was doing something to him that caused those horrible screams. I finally put 2 and 2 together and confronted him. He actually admitted to me that he pinched our baby! He said that he made him mad when he wouldn’t go to sleep and kept me from being able to have relations with him! I threw him out of our room and my parents home immediately. When I looked back, I could clearly see the abuse. The verbal and the hitting even when I was pregnant. Then the baby. So I was doing it alone. My parents helped me so much, I could never repay them. Bur we moved out on our own, and we had a great time. It was rough sometimes but we made do and was happy.
Right before my son graduated high school, I went out one Saturday night with my sister and best friend. I needed some me time, and I hadn’t even dated since I broke up with his father. I met a guy that night and we exchanged numbers. He called me daily after that, and pursued me heavily. Love bombing is what I later realized he was doing. After Jr graduated, we started dating. He was staying over at our house almost daily soon after. My son got a job at a call center in the next town over, and got his first apartment. That’s when I moved in with my new man. He slapped me for the first time about a week later. It was the beginning of the hitting/apology pattern. One day he choked me until I literally felt my soul leaving my body. He finally let go and I got my voice back and was screaming “I was dying! I WAS DYING! I WAS DYING! ” I had hid all this from everyone I knew. I didn’t get to see them anymore anyway. I was alone and miserable. I missed my son, my parents, my siblings, my friends, my job. Some other things he did to me, pushed me off a high porch to fall on my chest. Hurt my lungs, broke my foot from the fall. After I “smarted off” one night in his truck, he locked all the doors and drove down a dirt road in the woods. He proceeded to punch me in the face, pull my hair, choke me, drag me out of the truck by my hair to the ground and kick me, stomp on me, spit on me, pulled me up and noticed that I urinated in my pants, and he punched me in the face for “pissing myself” and getting him all bloody. He threw me on the ground and then he cried and cried because I wouldn’t stop making him do these things. He helped me back in the truck and was going back home. I thought it was over. It wasn’t. Before we got there, he turned down another dirt road and started yelling at me asking me why did I start this? I involuntarily let out a primal scream and jumped out. I ran and ran and ran screaming for help. A neighbor came outside and helped me in their house. I never seen him again.
After that whole ordeal, I moved in with my sister. I had to get to know my family all over again, as it haf been 8 years since I seen them. But it wasn’t hard. After the initial odd feeling of being back there left, I was my old self again. I got a job and my own place, and my son moved in with me! I was loving life again, and it was so amazing. I met my husband during this time. We started catching up on FB because we had been neighbors years earlier, when my son was in elementary school. That was 15 years prior! We met for a date and we talked all night long until it was daylight. I easily told him my deep dark secrets the first night, and he did to me as well. It just flowed naturally. He had a similar background, but his abuse was of a different nature, when he was a small child. We were joined at the hip, just truly loving each other and loving life. Everything I always wanted but never had, I was suddenly blessed with. We got married on March 24, 2022. 3 exact years from that very first date! And because of Covid, his business failed, and no help from the government for us. But we worked hard at other jobs and pulled our bootstraps and got tools and equipment and got started back up with the home repair business. But we haven’t had the extra money to have our honeymoon. And we need a break, a rest, some time to enjoy each other’s company. When we get our finances back in order, I will surely be blessing people that need help. And I donate my time to help others whenever I am fortunate enough to do so. We both love the mountains and would love to spend a couple of nights in a secluded cabin with hot tub. Or maybe a tree house. Thanks again for reading my story, and for donating if you choose to do so!