Two Memories I Have From My Marriages

First of all, I want to say that I was divorced for the final time 3 decades ago, now, following my scariest and most shattering attempt to love and be loved. I have chosen to remain single ever since, quite happily so, as I live within a very fulfilling relationship with the Lord! ["For your Maker is your husband— the LORD Almighty is his name— the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth. The LORD will call you back as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit— a wife who married young, only to be rejected, says your God." Isaiah 54:5 and 6] So these two memories from my marriages are not fresh ones; neither are the emotional wounds left in my heart from these men, or the scar remaining on my body from my last husband. But, today, for some reason, I found myself thinking back over these things, and I thought I would share them here with you then, because there are just so many of us women that have made ourselves extremely vulnerable in so many ways to the guys that have come through our lives claiming to love us, and the price we may have paid for those often-brief-but-intense encounters can be very high for us. I've seen that every human being wants to be truly known and loved for who they are--- unconditionally! BUT, while every human wants that, no human being (in my experience) is able to give that, and we only have one another for this, or God! Unless we get a pet. Pets do love unconditionally! But, that's another story for another time.

First, a funny story, plucked from its place within a tragic background: I once married a 'boy' not a man, because by then I'd figured out that I was an excellent nurturer of others (and apparently a poor one for myself, back then), but I had also come to feel that I had better STOP thinking I was going to EVER be loved for me because, well, it had NEVER happened and I was in my 30s at that point. [However, in case you think that was a premature assessment of my lovability, I am now 63, and it was always like that, for me, the whole way through my life to this point, humanly speaking. But, after my last divorce, 3 decades ago, I did finally 'wake up', and stopped pushing God away while crying out to Him that I wanted to BE LOVED! I realized that the ONLY One Who IS LOVE, Who can never be anything else, and Who has always loved me unconditionally--- while knowing me even better than I know myself, and will never leave me or forsake me, never lie to me, never abuse me, is GOD! So, I have been very happy with our relationship. But, that, too, is another story for another time.] So, this 'boy' I married had struck up a relationship with me, as it turns out, because he had so mismanaged his own life that he was being evicted from his apartment for not paying rent, and he had several other delinquent bills. He had actually been chasing a co-worker of mine for a relationship until he realized that I was willing to sacrifice myself to mother him, which was what he really needed from someone at the time. So he put her 'on hold', at least for then. I knew none of this at the time . . . .

I only knew two, other, things about this situation, but which could have prevented this from happening to me at all had I been a better advocate for myself: Number one, that God did specifically warn me not to marry this guy--- in what I've heard Catholics call 'my heart of hearts'. God knows everything about everyone, so He is the One to be trusted--- and obeyed. There are always consequences for our not doing this! Secondly, sadly, by this point in my life I had come to feel that the quality of relationships that men in general offered, based on my observations both of others' relationships with men, throughout my life, and my own experiences with men, indicated to me that waiting for anything better than this to come along was pointless; that the best I could ever hope for, with a man, would be to simply make the best of a bad situation. So, I settled for this. Chose it.

As I was saying earlier, I knew none of my new husband's serious problems, but in hindsight (of course) I realized that he had deliberately gone to great lengths to hide all those things, which then became a 'sucker punch' to me, as my only wedding gift from him, since he had to know these things would all come out, and sooner rather than later. Also, once we were married, that contractual relationship made me equally legally liable then, as his wife, for ALL these debts of his! I only found out about them when he moved into my apartment with me, once we were married, and his forwarded mail started coming there with all the Late Notices and threatening Legal letters. I was pretty good with money, out of debt myself, and a responsible person with excellent credit back then, so I got his financial mess all straightened out. Turns out he was in trouble at work, as an Air Force sergeant, for this crap, too. His First Sergeant thanked me for helping him, and told me in no uncertain terms that this was in fact not the first time that my husband had gotten himself into trouble in this very same way, and that had I not intervened on his behalf, and fixed this for him, he would have been discharged at this point and would have lost his military career! [The funny part of this is coming; just not quite yet. I have learned however, over the years, to laugh at the sheer appalling ridiculousness of how badly life can go at times, with or without our own mistakes or lapses of judgement or disobedience to God! We live on a Fallen planet that is populated by sinful humans.[The SNL show writers utilize this underlying theme for their humorous sketches on a regular basis.]

I found out years ago I love to give love but have long since quit expecting to get any, so it didn't particularly throw me that despite all I did to help him, my ungrateful husband only resented me for it and rewarded my efforts on his behalf by rocking my world (in a bad way) with his instability. He moved in and out, in and out, in and out, never giving me any reason for either direction he took with all that. He threatened me with a knife once, while I was on the phone with an Air Force chaplain making us an appointment for some help with all this, so I put him on the phone and he told the chaplain that he had a knife at that very moment, unapologetically!--- as if that is normal or in any way alright behavior. To top all this--- because there's more, as if all this wasn't more than enough on its own for me to cope with---  he wasn't interested in having sex with me! That aspect wasn't like any man I'd ever encountered before or since; usually it is totally opposite of that, with men. This is all truth even if you don't believe me! So, we almost never had sex and, the few times we did, it was always at my initiation. It was also so disappointing that I didn't even really want it with him, either. The whole experience literally could have played itself out with 'The Minute Waltz' as background music every one of those times. What he needed me to be was his mother. The fact remained that I was his wife. He stayed up for hours playing Video Games so he could "find the magic key" or "break through to the Next Level" in that IMAGINARY world. On Christmas, I gave him nice gifts that pleased him most, so of course that had to mean some new Video Games as well. I admit the only time I was shocked and realized how v-e-r-y little I had settled for, with him, was when Christmas Day came and he had not gotten me anything--- not even a Christmas Card. I spent that day, and night, watching the back of his head as he sat transfixed with his new Video Games and "getting to the next level". (He also collected comic books.)  On my birthday, I again got nothing from him, but I went to visit him--- in the dorm on base that he lived in during his many 'come and go' move in/move outs. Anyway, despite all these depressing details, there was a really funny story that happened, once, even in the midst of all that I just described to you, and here it is. (I often say that I've either gotta laugh or cry, at Life!)

In some kind of desperate, last attempt to encourage this 'boy' (though legally a man in age, he was emotionally just a child) to grow into his manhood (as we women are often, but not always, instrumental in accomplishing, with a cooperative male), I decided to try harder to interest him in SEX. LOL I never thought I would ever be saying that where any guy is concerned, but, it was what it was in all its patheticness. He was working second shift for awhile and coming home late evening, then. So, I put on a sheer negligee, sexy music and lighting--- the whole thing. And, important to the story, he had moved into my Efficiency apartment with me once we were married. It was a fairly large yet only one room place that had been great for me as a young, single gal. Once you entered the front door of the apartment, the living room/bedroom area was all right there as one big open space, that also included the kitchen, which was set apart only by its counter. So, (this is important to the funny part of this story) the only door in the entire apartment (not counting the closet door) was to the bathroom. ONE door. To the BATHROOM.

Okay, so he comes home. I hear his key in the front door of the apartment. I meet him at the door, wearing nothing but this flimsy piece of sheer clothing. Mustering all the sexiness I had, I tried to inspire him to leave his boyhood behind--- and his slaying dragons in Video Games--- to join with me in the real, adult world of grown up joys and conquest! Taking his hand, and with an intense, passionate look in my eyes, I led him directly over to the bed. I lay back across it and pulled him more or less on top of me, and looking deeply into his eyes, I had the bright idea (when all else fails!) to speak in French to him--- because it is known as the language of love! So, I say to him "I adore you!" in French.

"Je t’ adore!"

Well, he immediately got up (but not the way I had intended, by that) off the bed, walked over to the bathroom, and SHUT THE DOOR!

I started laughing SO HARD (at least SOMETHING was HARD, that night) that I rolled off the bed, in my negligee, onto the floor and kept laughing, just doubled over, totally unable to stop! Well, he apparently was completely clueless as to the cause of this hilarity, and he just stood there, looking down at me on the floor, with me just 'busting a gut' laughing, and he was both truly bewildered and ticked off at me by my doing that. So, he kept saying to me, "What are you LAUGHING about? You told me to SHUT THE DOOR and I did!" Of course, that caused me to only laugh longer still, which unfortunately kept making him madder and madder at me. So, needless to say, no sex happened that night, then, either. All I can say here, to sum it up, is "C'est la vie!".

The second story about my (final) marriage is not at all funny. This man was the son of Satan if ever there was one. He was a Master of Domestic ABUSE. He knew how to torment me and tear me down in ways that showed truly hellish skill, and, ultimately, he was the one who totally shattered me body, soul, and spirit, to the point that my joy was gone and I didn't know then if it would ever be back. It took me five years to be able to smile again about life! So, this Post is about the time the type of abuse he perpetrated on me totally confused me, and how both then and for years after, I JUST COULDN'T FIGURE IT OUT--- what he was doing! What he did!--- until one day, I FINALLY DID KNOW. . . .

He never needed any 'reason' or provocation of any kind to become abusive toward me. He constantly kept me off balance emotionally; uneasy, unsure, unsafe . . . . My husband.

This particular day, there had been no strife, no turmoil, no arguing. There often wasn't, but he still would become enraged toward me. I went downstairs in the split-level home that I had moved into, of his, when we were married, to converse with him when he suddenly got snarky, and pulling me down onto the basement floor, he sat behind me with his legs straddling me and he had my arms pinned behind me in his tight grip, so I could not stand up or leave the room. By now I was sadly very used to him doing all kinds of abusive actions toward me, but what came next in this situation left me totally baffled by it both then and for years afterward. He placed his mouth right up against my ear, and, while holding me like that in this very uncomfortable position physically (for about a half hour), he kept saying OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER (you see the situation, now) the most precious words any human can ever say to another human: "I Love you!". Only, he didn't say it sweetly, or in a tone that indicated he was at all trying to convince me of even a shred of truth in his saying that to me. He said it in a tight grimace. Every time. OVER AND OVER. Sarcastically. Evilly. In nothing like a loving tone at all! None of the abuses he did toward me--- my body, soul, and spirit--- made any sense to me, because we actually could have had a really great marriage together, if he had not been driven from the day of our "I Do"s to begin tearing down all hope of any good life that we could have built together relationally. But this thing in the basement was unlike any thing he'd ever done, before or after that time; and he was a very creative abuser in the variety of ways he would mistreat me! I just could not reconcile his words, to me, of "I LOVE you!" OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER through that half hour he took me hostage in our home, with the behaviors he was acting out that clearly didn't reflect LOVE! I just never understood WHAT that WAS, or WHY he DID that, until one day, years later. . . .

As I said previously, I was so shattered by this man that I didn't feel close to whole as a human being for 5 years after the marriage ended! I didn't smile until 5 years had passed. I had to do so much work on myself to try to repair what I could of the deep damage he had inflicted on my soul. I have always said, since marrying him and experiencing this, that it is always easy for me to tell if someone has been abused, themselves, by how they react to my being abused when I tell them: If they say to me, "You mean, he HIT you?", then they have never been abused. Abuse victims will tell you, as I LIVED THROUGH and can attest to by my own life experiences as an abuse victim, that, the casts will eventually come off; the stitches will come out ; it is THE WORDS the abuser says to you that go deep down in your spirit and there's really not a way to ever get rid of all THE HURTFUL, HARMFUL EFFECTS of those words spoken to you. The WORDS are the WORST. Even the bruises heal, outwardly; but not those left on your soul. Anyway . . .

Many years later, when I finally felt whole enough to try dating again, a man whom I was seeing and I were out eating in a restaurant when he took my hand and said to me what every human heart normally hopes to hear. "I Love you!" I even shocked myself when I immediately automatically, spontaneously, pulled my hand away, moving myself apart from him. I was absolutely TERRIFIED! I was not happy to hear that! I felt both my mind and heart racing from pure panic in a way that I never had before! This caring man sat there looking so confused by my reaction to his sweet sounding words, while my inner thoughts were saying "So, are YOU going to HURT me? Do YOU intend to ABUSE me? Am I NOT SAFE with you?" His words had struck FEAR into my heart! Not the hoped for reaction, this man thought he would receive, was going on with me. I was now emotionally withdrawing myself from him, suddenly, and acting in opposition to his words to me; rendered totally unable to embrace them or him. I simply could not receive them! I could not welcome them or reciprocate them, at all.

This kind of pure fear, behind those thoughts I was having then, has nothing to do with rationality; it is a visceral reaction straight from the most basic 'Fight or Flight' survival instincts in human nature. It is an emotional reaction to a perceived threat. My perception of the word "love" had clearly been completely corrupted by my ex-husband. And, that's when I FINALLY KNEW. I knew why my ex-husband had done what he did to me in the basement of our home when we were married. I finally knew what he had done! I realized he was so talented at abusing me that, even as he ripped apart our relationship, he also had planned ahead, into my future without him--- from his knowing that, due to his thorough destructiveness, that time would finally have to come--- in order to taint me toward the most cherished words that people ever say to one another! He made those words SCARY, TOXIC, to me. Unembraceable, to me. Needless to say, my ex-husband succeeded in his plot. I wasn't able to trust in another man saying those words to me. Trust that I wouldn't be abused by that man, too---- something which I knew I could not survive again. Perhaps physically, if I weren't killed, but not mentally or emotionally. I had barely survived it, before. [More later, on that.]

It was just beyond draining and exhausting to go through abuse, especially at the hands of a person that had once vowed before God to love me. The same person that, during the abuse, now vowed to kill me. In fact, this ex-husband had first told me he loved me when we were eating out, and he had taken my hand as he said those words to me, but he had gone farther than that. He told me that he wanted to be the one that even made up for the difficult and painful things I'd already endured in my marriages prior to him, which I had told him about in full and honest disclosure once we became involved with one another. I'd even told him I didn't think I was ready to be dating anyone again, when he had initially asked me out, but he was extremely persistent, asking me out again and again, and went out of his way to reassure me that I couldn't be in better hands than to be with him. These same hands became fists during our marriage, and I would cringe in a ball on the floor with my arms covering my head as best I could during his ever-escalating episodes. I remember the stinging of his words one day, too, when he screamed at me, "I can do whatever the hell I want to do to you, bitch, because you don't ever want to go through another divorce, so you'll put up with it!" Oh, and by the way, the Lord had also told me not to marry this man, but in disobedience to the One that is Love and truly does have my best interests at heart, I argued that "Love would conquer all!", but it--- rather, whatever this was with him--- conquered me. Even more than that; it very nearly killed me.

The Master Abuser had managed to leave me with this legacy for me to react negatively, from a place deep down inside my soul (where he had purposefully buried this TIME BOMB all those years before), toward anyone in my future who might ever say to me "I love you!". I had never even realized he had done that--- and so well!--- until someone all those years later finally hit the TRIPWIRE, by telling me that they loved me! My unexpected reaction had startled me, as well, when that happened, not just the man saying those words to me that evening at dinner. Dormant, and malignant, within me, it was not until I heard those special words spoken to me that I had immediately reacted emotionally with a feeling of deep dread and those awful, automatic thoughts of "You just said you love me; so, what are you going to do to me? How are you going to hurt me? Will you threaten to KILL ME, TOO? Will you be the one that will finally kill me?" As a woman, it is disgusting to me what these abusive men put us through, once they get themselves into our private lives after managing to hide their abusiveness from us; until they 'have us'. (So, they can control this!) All this because of our having a romantic relationship with them! They do know, very clearly, that we had just wanted to love and to be loved by someone, and to build a 'Happily Ever After' with them, because they had seemed to offer us that before their evil 'bait and switch' when they then withheld love, giving us only grief instead.

Those are my two, true stories from my marriages that I decided to share now with you.