a note: my parents never argued, fought or had a unkind word to say that I had ever heard. I had no experience on to what was about to happen in my life.

  I heard sometime when I was young that if you made your bed, you would have to lie in it. I took it to heart, and lived my life by that rule.

   I got pregnant at the age of 12 and was quickly married to the young man who had taken my virginity and was the expectant father. He was 18. I was moved to another state far from my family and the life I knew. Our son was born 7 months later. We argued all the time. He was not ready to be married and to settle down with a family, and I had thought that life was going to be like "the Cleavers". I was wrong. I was regularly beat, for what ever reason he could think of. It could have been because I took a walk and didn't take someone with me such as his sister or mother. It could have been because I didn't get the bed made that day. It could have been because the baby was crying with the colic again, thus disturbing his sleep. It was all of those things and more. There was even a time when he put a shotgun to my head and threatened to kill me.  I was not perfect in this relationship, but I did not deserve what happened to me either. I now know this, but at the time I was ignorant and thought some how it was MY fault that I made him so mad. Life was not pleasant. 

   My Father came for a visit when I was 14, and he talked my husband into letting me come home with him for a visit. One week after I left ... my husband was in jail for statutory rape. His family pleaded with me to come "home" right away to "stand by his side", which I was ready to do until the last moment. I then thought " what am I going back to?" This man had beat me, choked me, threatened to kill me, and at times his whores had even come knocking on my front door asking for him! Plus now he has shown me he is a rapist!! WHY and WHAT did I have there that I needed to go back to? The answer was pretty clear to me when I didn't have him and his family telling me what to think. There was NOTHING! Nothing but more of the same, that is if he ever got out of this mess. I decided to stay with my Father and Mother in their safe haven that I had always known. Little did I know at the time I was pregnant again. I was 15. (He was convicted and spent 18 years in prison. He died 6 years after he got out of prison of cancer.)

  After the birth of my daughter, I tried to go back to school. I was 16. I had 2 beautiful children. I was also still married. Parents of my school mates did not like the fact that I was in the same school as their children and made life hard for me. I was told what "trash" I was daily at school, I was spit at, had things thrown at me, had horrible things said to my face and behind my back, and even got into some fist fights. I eventually could not take it any more and quit. 

  I did end up getting a divorce from my husband 2 years later. For the next 6 years I pretty much partied, although I did go to a "trade school" where I was offered a diploma if I would go to bed with one of the officials of the school. I declined the offer and never went back to the "school". I worked here and there where ever I could get a job. I was a motel maid, a cook's helper, and also worked babysitting jobs. It was tuff. My Dad and Mom passed away when I was 18. I was pretty much on my own now. But  my children and I were together, and that was what mattered. 

  When I was 22, I met my next husband. My nightmare. My children's nightmare.

  He was 21. I was 22. He seemed so different than anyone I had ever dated. He only drank booze occasionally. He didn't have to go out partying all the time, and he seemed to like just staying home with me and the kids. We would go fishing, camping and just hang out together. I thought that the kids and him got along really well, as he would get down on the floor and play with them, play outside with them, ect.  My son was 9 years old and my daughter was 7 years old now. They needed a "Dad". We got along well, and I thought I had finally found love. After a year of dating (if that is what you call it... he just mostly came over and we would watch TV together). he moved in with us. That is when the nightmare  started. 

  I don't remember the "WHY" of the first time. It was probably because one of my kids was being a brat that day as all kids have their "days". It may have been because I let the "green eyed monster" over come me. Or maybe it was because any of the 10,000,000 things that would irritate him. I just don't remember. What I do remember is me and him arguing intensely and it ending by him shoving me into the wall so hard it took my breath away, and then he walked out, slamming the door hard enough that it shook the pictures on the wall. He returned with his "sorry" and pleaded with me to forgive him. "It would never happen again." ... he said. Well it happened again. and again. We would make up. and then we would start the cycle all over. I was told that "everyone fought and that even my parents must have, and how would I had known what went on behind closed doors?" I should have thought about this more because my mother NEVER ... EVER had bruises like I was always sporting! But I wasn't thinking... I was in love! And besides...hadn't he reminded me that no one else would want me.. a woman with 2 half grown kids? Hadn't he TOLD me that I was lucky to have HIM? Well he had convinced me. Two years after we met we were married. 

  I was 23 by this time. I would be 52 before I was totally free of him. Even sometimes now I wonder just how free of him I really am. 

  We argued constantly. Over nothing. We would argue over money, how long it took me to walk to the store, how much money I spent on groceries, what TV program to watch, what time to go to bed, what the kids were wearing to school, who I talked to on the way to and from the post office, anything and everything! The shoves started turning into being shoved to the floor and then being kicked while I was down. I was being called Whore, Bitch, and more. I was accused of screwing everyone ...and I mean EVERYONE! He accused me of "doing" his Dad, his brothers, my nephews, cousins, and even my own son! He KNEW I didn't, it was his way of horrifying me, and a sick way of controlling me. A way to belittle me, and to convince himself that he was better than me. But at the time I didn't know what to think. I am kind of naive ,and I had never heard of that before. I was shocked to think he even thought that of me. I felt I had to convince him other wise. I would try so hard to not make him angry at me. But it didn't matter... he would find any excuse to take his frustrations out on me. 

He was always belittling my son. My son still has self esteem problems today because of it.

  It didn't stop with me. He started on the kids too. At first I thought he was just being over protective by not letting them go out and being with friends. Maybe I had let them run too much. My son was allowed to go play with friends because he was older, so my husband said. But my daughter was only allowed to play with my husbands younger sisters and brothers. It wasn't long before he was punching my kids around too. He was always careful not to leave marks that would last so the schools would not intervene. Of course I would try to protect my kids. I would jump in between them, and try to stop  the beatings. This would result in him having another target and would turn his anger from them to me and I would get the beating instead... usually. Sometimes he would just knock the heck out of EVERYBODY before walking out or going to bed and falling asleep. To be honest when ever I would see the beating coming for my kids I would usually TRY to turn his anger towards me so that he wouldn't touch them. This did not always work. My kids and I were in a war zone. 

It was horrible for my kids. I should have left him then. But I didn't know how. I was stuck. 

  You may ask why didn't I leave him? Well, to tell you the truth, I was scared! He and his whole family are violent. ( I guess I was wearing rose colored glasses before we were married.) He told me and made me believe that if I ever left him, He would hunt me down, and kill my whole family. I didn't want to put that kind of terrorism onto any of my family, and I had no where else to go. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone like the police, I didn't know they could help me anyway. I had no one to turn to that I could trust. He also reminded me that wives are killed everyday. That if he had to spend a few years in prison, it was no big deal, at least he would know where I was at. But they would have to find my body first. Oh he was good at terrorism! I put leaving out of my mind, and tried to concentrate on trying to protect my kids. He even had me so brain washed at one time that I thought he was the best thing for me. After 2 years of marriage to him, I was pregnant with our son. God help me!

  Pregnancy didn't stop the beatings. But he did start to stay away more. I was both thankful and P.O.'ed about that. I was thankful that he wasn't around ... we were walking on eggshells around him now, (we never knew when he was going to blow up!), but I was also afraid that he was cheating on me or that he was spending the rent money on something stupid. We usually had to move about every 3 months because he could not hold a job, and he would not let me work. There was many times we ended up moving in with his folks because we had no where else to go. My youngest son was born and then all hell broke loose.

  When my youngest son was born I was 25, my oldest son was 13, and my daughter was 11. I was married to the devil it seemed. Now not only did I have to protect my 2 older children from him, but also my baby. He didn't hit the baby , but he would holler at him when he cried, and I was always afraid the baby would get caught in the cross fire of the punches, and beatings. there was times I got beat because I couldn't keep the baby quiet from crying too. Of course that would make the baby cry louder and longer. I felt I was in Hell.

But my daughter was the one who was truly in hell!

  My daughter was getting older and prettier. I'm not sure when it started , but the monster started to put sexual advances on her. She tried to tell me once, but I was in shock and disbelief. How could I protect her from that?  I observed that she would ask to go with him many times when it would just be him and her alone, so I dismissed it as maybe he was warning her about what could happen ... I supposed that it was his way of having a "sex talk" with her since she was getting of the age that boys would be noticing her. I really thought that maybe she misunderstood. I should have reported him to the police right then!! But I was ...ignorant is the only word that I can come up with right now. I didn't want it to be true so my mind made up anything for it to not be true. (I found out later that the only reason she would go with him alone was because she felt that was the only way she could get out of the house.. and she felt that she could keep him at a distance if she was in the public eye.) She was always able to get away or to make him leave her alone, but it kept getting worse for her. Just before her 16th birthday she walked into school and told someone. When she didn't come home from school like she was supposed to, I went to go find her. My 1st stop was the school. There police  told me she would not be coming home with me. They asked me if I needed protection, but I was still afraid of him. So I told them no. There was my opportunity and I passed it up. I can't explain it.  

  Somehow he passed the lie detector. But the judge placed my daughter in foster care anyway. I had lost my beloved daughter! I was heart broken, but as a consolation to myself I could only think that now the nightmare was over for her. She would be safe. There would be no more beatings for her. I didn't deserve to have her with me anyway, because I could not protect her. I had put myself into the position that I HAD to stay now. That was my mind set anyway. I had 2 sons left. I could not leave them. Somehow it never entered my mind that I should take my sons WITH me. But then, I was not in my right mind I think. I think now as I look back that I had been in a mental breakdown of some sort for many years. Again, I was TOLD what to think, do, how to act...everything! I had no mind of my own! I was allowed limited visitation with her by myself. Of course he couldn't have that and made me stop visiting her. We moved to another town. My oldest son who was going to be turning 18 in two months did not move with us. He was going to be staying with his step-uncle, who lived in the same town as my daughter. In less than a year I had lost both my older children, and now it was only me and my youngest son (by now he is 4 years old), and my husband. My heart was numb. I cried so much, I ran out of tears.

My self esteem was gone, along with my self worth, pride, and my children.

 In our new city that we moved to He now only had me to kick, punch, shove, call names, and abuse. I had just lost 2 children, and I felt if it was my time to die, I was ready. I didn't have much to live for anyway. I was a piece of doo-doo for letting all that had happened to my children happen anyway. I think I had a death wish. Lord knows I was dead inside already anyway. Yes I had the baby, but at that point I just didn't care.  I finally got "some" backbone and threatened him with the police if he EVER touched me again! I had the phone in my hand and was ready to dial 911. I saw the fear in his eyes that day. He pulled the phone from my hands, but didn't hurt me. Oh, I got called a few names before he stormed out. but he did NOT touch me!  Over the next few years, he shoved me a few times. But it was not like before. I'm not saying that was ok, just that I had somehow got "some" control over my life back. I know what it was now. He KNEW I didn't care. He KNEW I would do it. He KNEW I felt I had nothing more to loose, I had already lost almost everything that meant anything to me. After 3 years we moved out of state. Six months later he left me for a younger woman. I thought it was finally over. I thought!

I would get sick to my stomach when we had sex thinking of what he did to my family, and then think what he was about to do.

  I didn't go back to my home state because I couldn't bare to take his son who worshiped the ground he walked on away from him. That and I still had a bit of fear of him. Now that he had his new girlfriend, he was starting to hit me again. He would go spend his nights and weekends with her, and then come over to my house to make sure that I wasn't seeing anyone and to make sure of his control over me. He would want to have sex, and if I would refuse, he would argue with me and we would end up fist fighting. He would wear me down because I would just get tired of fighting. I knew I had to do things carefully around him. I talked him into a divorce 2 years later. I thought that then things would change and he would leave me alone. He didn't. He was always saying that he was going to "come back to me". He never did, Thank God! But just the same... he was always there. Oh, he would go home to his girlfriend at night, but his days were spent at my house most of the time. I finally figured out that he was ALWAYS going to be in my life whether I wanted him to be there or not. I got to the point that I was fooling myself into saying I wanted him there. But it wasn't true. I just didn't know anything else. I was like a dog being beat with one hand while being fed with the other. He was helping me pay bills at times. Nothing great, but it helped. He bailed me out of rent problems more times than once. He knew if he helped me out then he would have another thing to hold over my head ..." If it wasn't for me..." It was another control thing. Being a single Mom is not easy. So maybe I egged this on. I don't know. I know I was "comfortable" with him, and knew what to expect from him. I expected to be verbally abused by him, shoved a few times, and I knew that if I needed help he would try to help me. I also knew I would be left alone at night. Then I would have peace. I also knew I hated him for what he had done to my family! This went on for 15 years. 

  In the 14th year of our divorce, he once again was promising to "come back to me". I told him I didn't care if he did or not. I didn't love him, and my life was going to go on no matter what. That seemed to make him even more determined to make me believe him. And I was starting to get scared that he would. But a Higher Power had stepped in... finally. Over the years I have had contact with my daughter who is now 36, and my oldest son, 38. My youngest is now 25 years. My daughter and I had been talking now for about 10 years off and on... depending weather she or I had a phone. I had physically seen her 3 times since she was taken away and we moved to the bigger city. We also stayed in contact through my oldest son whom I had never lost contact with.

  I was about to find myself homeless. I was renting a room from some relatives and they started to have marital problems. So they told me I had to move while they sorted out their marriage. They gave me 1 month. I had no money to rent an apartment , I had not enough to even rent a room elsewhere! My oldest son and daughter were in different states, my youngest son was renting a room from yet another relative. My EX had no job so I couldn't ask him for money either. I had nowhere to go! But then a miracle happened! My daughter called me, I told her the situation, she sent me enough to get where she was at ... which was so far away that I would be doing a major relocation. I kept it secret from my EX. I knew if he found out he would somehow throw a monkey wrench in it. I said nothing, and swore everyone who knew about it to secrecy. Some how I pulled it off. 

To read more about me click here

  I am 52 now. I am far away from my EX. I am also far away from my sons which grieves me. I am living with my daughter which gives me the most happiness I've have in my life in a long time. I have scars that may never go away.  My children wear their scars too. I wonder sometimes what life would have been like if I hadn't gotten pregnant at 12? But then I wouldn't have my 2 oldest children. Then I wonder what life would have been like for them if I hadn't met and married my 2nd husband? But then I wouldn't have my youngest child. And then I wonder what if I had left my 2nd husband before he started to make his "advances" on my daughter? What if....? I wonder just how badly my kids are scarred. It worries me. By the way... both of my boys have a hard time staying in a relationship and have demons to fight, my daughter still to this day has night terrors. I will probably always lock myself into my bedroom when someone is loud or arguing. We all own scars that will never heal. 

  Please if you are in any kind of the relationships I just described..... PLEASE PLEASE get out NOW! Do not be the coward I was. Don't wait for your children to rescue you! You must rescue them! and Yourself! If you know someone that needs help, don't just sit embarrassed and try to ignore the fact they are being abused. Get them the information they need to get away! It will not get any better! It will not go away. Do it, and do it NOW! You may save a life.

  National Women's abuse hotline 

  Domestics hotline and resources 

  Support for Battered Women

  Forum for abused women

1-800-799-7233