The first time I told, I was really telling something else. I was desperately trying to save my marriage from another problem, and seeking the advice of a friend. The friend said I must confront the problem, and I said I was afraid he would hurt me. I simply stated it as a matter of fact. I didn't guess that my friend would see that as a far bigger issue than the other. It was something I had accepted as normal.
The next time I told, it was 5 a.m. I had stayed awake all night, my eyes wide, my heart pounding. There was no chance I would fall asleep. My abuser lay snoring soundly, contented now that he had resolved his angry feelings by giving them all to me. I tried to wait until a decent hour, but I didn't dare wait too long, lest he wake up early. At 5 a.m. I called my pastor. This time I made a plea for help. I knew now that the hitting was the biggest problem. I no longer accepted it as normal. But I viewed it as a relationship problem. I made sure to acknowledge that "I am not perfect, either." And the next day as we sat in counseling, I presented my case as if it were a deposition. Accuracy was paramount, and I was willing to say that my words were my "perceptions," not truth.
Later, I continued telling. When I told my parents, I was careful to point out my own inadequacies, faults and problems. When my abuser told my grandmother "We have a mutually abusive relationship," I did not argue.
I told my story to a counselor, in very careful, precise, accurate detail. I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget anything. He said that my desire for security came from the fact that God created Eve inside the garden, and my abuser's desire for adventure (e.g. hitting his wife) was because God created Adam outside the garden. When my abuser kidnapped the children and threatened to shoot them, my counselor told me, "Don't do anything drastic."
I told a lawyer, who advised me that only divorce would allow me to adequately protect my children.
I told a judge, who issued an order of protection.
But I didn't tell the judge who issued my divorce. I told that judge only what my abuser told me to say. I was just grateful to get out alive.
I never told a police officer. I never filed a report. It never occured to me. I guess it never occured to the counselor or the lawyer, either.
I told my story to a divorce support group, and walked out when the leader responded that, "Divorce is a sin. But it can be forgiven."
Now I am telling again. This is not a deposition, so I won't be laying it all out in careful, precise, chronological detail. I will strive to get at the deep truth, to convey what is at the heart. I won't be seeking a judgment. I won't qualify my telling with confessions of not being perfect, as if a perfect person would never be abused.
I am telling so that you may hear.
I am telling so that you may understand.
Or not.
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