I was 21, young and naive when I met my first husband on a blind date. He was 7 years older than me. He said he loved me, wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, said I was his perfect match. To me this was music to my ears. Unfortunately, I was so desperate for love (and to be married) I didn’t see the warning signs …
• Anger
• Broken Relationships
• Conflict
• Dysfunction
Yes, I ignored warning signs because I was determined to get married. I thought I could change him.
Against my parents’ wishes, we got married. Although I wanted my dream wedding, our wedding was held at a JP court, both of us clad in jeans and tie-died shirts. In a few months, my folks disowned me, followed by heavy drinking, which later turned to violence. I was in an abusive relationship with no one to turn to.
In 1977 we became proud parents. Parenthood seemed to ease the turmoil for awhile, but not forever.
The pressures of an already bad marriage, expectations of parenting, demands of financial provision, abuse, soon took its toll on me. I knew if my son was raised around family violence, he would repeat that pattern. Finally, in 1978 I made the decision to leave.
Divorce, conflict, loss, resentment, bitterness … these are all hard pills to swallow. Now I was learning the importance of asking God’s help when we make decisions.
When we’re in the midst of the storm it’s easier to point the finger and blame someone else for your problems. It was many years later before I was able to admit to myself and others the part I played in the marital breakup. There’s always two sides to every story.
Tagged: domestic violence, marriage, parenting
