The Road Taken, a Story of Covert Domestic Abuse

Two roads diverged before me… and I chose wrong.

Red flags waved in warning but went unrecognized.

I was nineteen. I didn’t know.

The effect of it was like ingesting slow acting poison each day.

At first, it was hardly noticeable,

But over time the cumulative effects were devastating.

I hadn’t made my vows lightly

And long were the years I fought for them.

But my boundaries were broken.

I determined to be the perfect wife, no matter what he did,

And I tried to bear the impossible weight of his choices as well.

I thought if only I were more loving, more encouraging…

Maybe if I reduced expectations and protested less…

Over time my expectations shrank until they disappeared,

While the burden on me grew and grew.

I poured myself out with no return. No reciprocation.

I lavished mercy and compassion

Through betrayals and neglect.

I tried to stuff down my valid anger and hurt,

Because I had been told, CONVINCED, that was the only real problem.

So I tried to be enough to be loved.

I cried. I begged. I prayed and fasted.

I read self-improvement books.

I went to counseling, alone.

I did ALL THE THINGS, because all the books promised,

That I alone could save us, if only I was enough…

I was barely treading water, drowning from exhaustion,

While my head was being pushed under the water.

I was dying inside.

I screamed it. I cried it. I whispered it.

I tried to find the most perfect words,

And the most perfect way, to finally get my point across to no avail.

I tried for years.

And divorce wasn’t an option. It wasn’t allowed.

All I could do was my best, hope he’d change, and endure.

Meanwhile, he enjoyed all the benefits of a good, loving wife.

Because I continued to do my part as he sowed destruction and fueled strife.

And I hardly breathed a word of it to others,

Because you shouldn’t speak ill of your spouse!

I wanted to be respectful,

So I suffered in silence.

I protected him. I bore it mostly alone.

Reaching out for help usually didn’t help anyway.

All I heard was all the ways I needed to try harder and be grateful,

When I was already doing it all anyway.

I didn’t have words to truly describe the patterns I was dealing with.

I didn’t understand the toxic dynamics I was caught in.

I would try to describe a few raindrops at a time,

But no one understood the scope of the whole monsoon.

There were times it was so bad

That I told Jesus He could take me home

Because I couldn’t live the rest of my life this way…

I cried at church.

I cried in prayer groups.

I cried at work.

I cried in my car.

I cried myself to sleep.

Then one day, someone gave me a word

For what was happening: ABUSE.

No! It’s not abuse.

The truth HURT. White knuckled denial reared up hard.

Denial was easier.

I had been living a lie.

I had survived by telling myself we were happy,

By convincing myself that he loved me,

By playing up the supposedly “good” moments,

By digging deep to find SOMETHING to be grateful for.

But one desperate night, I broke down

And I ordered a book. A different kind of book.

I read it through wracking sobs

As I recognized the patterns I had lived with

Described on those pages.

I finished it feeling broken and afraid, but also relieved,

Because I now knew I had done everything I could at that point,

Except separating…

The idea was terrifying.

After all I had done to try to fix things.

After all I had invested.

And then all the judgement surrounding the idea of possible divorce.

No one ever talked about justified divorce.

They just judged.

So zealous for God’s law,

They failed to honor the spirit of it,

And wounded the very ones they intended to “save.”

So 👏 Much 👏 Damage 👏 Done👏

Because the letter of the law is death.

It was hard to finally acknowledge the cold truth,

To recognize how bad it really was.

It was scary to face my options.

It shook my whole world to finally admit what I already knew deep down:

Love does not sound, look, or act like that.

He did not truly love me.

My marriage was a SHAM.

Then… he apologized

And I wanted to believe we were saved.

I wanted to tell the miraculous story

Of how God saved us from the brink.

So I relented. I stayed.

But that wasn’t our story.

I endured two more years

And found myself in a black pit

Of deepest depression.

Hopeless.

Nothing had changed.

That’s when I began planning my escape.

I got into counseling to get healthy

So I could separate well,

Only planning to return IF I saw long term change.

TRUE CHANGE – taking responsibility and true repentance.

I would not accept further abuse this time.

I had already held on way past my breaking point out of sheer determination.

Now I was done. Beyond done.

I began guarding my heart.

I set hard boundaries.

I grew in strength as I pulled myself out of that pit.

I had to accept that my hope was not in an outcome,

My hope was in Christ ALONE,

And no matter the outcome,

He had a redemptive answer for my life.

I came to see that Jesus valued ME more than a marriage!

I felt the deepest assurance

that if the cost of preserving the marriage was my destruction,

That He would choose ME every. single. time.

I MATTERED TO HIM.

My life, my safety, my sanity, my heart, MATTERED.

You see, God hates divorce because of what it does to PEOPLE,

And sometimes staying in a marriage is what does the most damage.

In that season of soul searching, I also learned

That forgiveness doesn’t mean no consequences

And repentance doesn’t entitle someone to reconciliation.

I came to the realization that submission is a principle applied with wisdom,

NOT a law with no exceptions,

And submission ought to be MUTUAL.

Behavior was modified

But the emotional climate remained.

Manipulation, blame shifting, and pressure.

After 12 years of trying, forgiveness and grace,

When I was finally done, he threw it all back in my face.

He said I was selfish and unforgiving. He tried to hurt me with lies

Like: I didn’t give him a chance, I didn’t even try!!!

After all I had suffered and all I had given,

It was a laughably delusional lie, just further manipulation.

The truth was…

My heart was not safe.

Trust broken beyond repair.

A million chances had passed him by.

Enough was enough.

And so I walked away.

I signed the documents to legally declare

The death of our relationship

That had occurred many years before.

I had been performing CPR on a corpse.

Maybe it was never really alive to begin with…

That was the beginning of my journey into freedom. 💗🕊