Many of the people in our church had us married off within a month of our first date. We went out three time, before he announced it to me, that is when I realized we were dating... I really never expected anyone to be interested in me, so it didn't really occur to me that we were dating. He is 13 years older than me, and we always had at least some of the Youth Group with us, for all I knew he was trying to recruit me for working with the teens or in the nursery or something.
Our first date was on Dec. 21, 1997. In his appearance to be proper and upright, he met with the adopted family I had moved to Oregon with. He explained to, at least, Grandpa Fred his intentions, but I wasn't clued in, or I would have refused that first date (if I had known that is what it was). Not because of Brad, but because of me. I believed I was not good enough for anyone, and I didn't want anyone to start dating me and realize what a worthless person I was, and then reject me.
Anyway.
Because of their conversation, Grandpa Fred knew, the significance of knowing that date. My birthday is in October, and everybody in the church was sure I was going to get a ring for my birthday. Brad had assured me, not yet, while laughing at their hysteria over it. So, mostly to mess with their heads, he decided to get me a dress coat for church for the winter. A real need since I had nothing really adequate for the weather, considering I came from the desert in So. Cal. He said I had to go with him to pick it out, to make sure it fit, and said that it was expensive. :) It did the trick, there were several who were not satisfied with the gift he gave me, and they were sure he was going to do more than just the coat (the only one he bought me in 17 years. He finally bought me a new coat, not as expensive a few months before the truth came out), he didn't.
In December, as I mentioned, in the previous post, he did the 12 days of Christmas. I got a gift every day for each of the 12 days leading up to Christmas day. The 8th day of Christmas was December 21, 1998. He made dinner, including Santa cookies (for some reason that is the only thing I remember of the food), he kicked his mom and sister out of their home for the evening, and planned for us to watch the then new "Preacher's Wife" movie. After we ate, but before the movie (I think) is when he proposed. But he insisted that he would not give the ring as a Christmas gift, so he also gave me a ring holder and a dozen roses (between that day and the two days before I got 19 roses).
That night was also our first kiss, and he said, "You're going to be a Preacher's Wife." Like I was going to live the movie. Unfortunately, I did feel much like Whitney Houston's character, for many years. And became frustrated because, even though we watched that movie every year, for most of the 17.25 years we lived together, he never saw the light like the husband does in the movie. I remember thinking,"Do you not see the similarity in our lives to this movie???" Whether he did or not, I will never know.
The weird thing is, that even though we told "my" people first (his family probably knew before we told them), and it took a whopping 5 seconds for the news to spread through the church that following Wednesday night. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were spent with his family, and New Years Eve, at that time was spent at the church. I remember crying, being sad on Christmas Day, not sure why. But I remember, nobody asking me why I was sad, I know it was obvious, because I have seen pictures.
Even after we were engaged, he still would not hold my
hand or show any kind of affection in public, not an arm around my
shoulders or a peck on the cheek. If we were in the car alone, or if the
people I was living with were gone to bed, that was different,
especially if I was suffering from an intense migraine. That left me confused, and unsure what he was trying to convey. BECAUSE of my experience with people in High School telling me,"I am your friend, just don't tell anybody." and them walking away before anyone would accuse them of liking me, I took it personally, and decided he didn't really want people to know he cared like he claimed to. I wasn't worthy of anybody caring anyway, and I needed to be thankful that he was willing to marry me.
Friday, November 24, 2017
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Dating
Our dating was very one sided, I guess. It served him primarily (remember I was needy). We only dated on Sundays and Wednesdays. He didn't ask me out until services were over. He basically assumed I was going to go out with him, and I dutifully waited after church every service for him to ask me and then said yes. The older and wiser me, of today would demand at least 24 hours and I certainly wouldn't wait around after church for him to get done talking to everybody else.
We went out for Mexican food almost every Sunday, and if we didn't we went home to his (his mother's) house. Even if we went out, we would end up at his house. He knew I didn't (and still don't) enjoy watching TV, yet that is what he had us doing pretty much every week. Except he would set me at the end of the couch, then he would lay down with his head in my lap and then go to sleep, with me stuck, with him laying on me, no way to go home, and too nice to wake him up. Sunday nights, we would usually go to Shari's. Sometimes we would take some of the teens and go to Dairy Queen or Burger King. He said he liked Shari's because it was open 24-hours, so we could sit and talk as late as we wanted and didn't have to worry about them closing. Wednesday nights were also spent at Shari's.
During that time I had questions, like why did he subject me to an afternoon full of TV, even though he knew I didn't want anything to do with it? But he was so "good" to me, I dismissed my "red flags" as my own short comings. And he did so many "nice" things for me!
During that time I had severe chronic migraine (because of my diet, but I had no idea what the real trigger was!), and he would come calling any time I had a headache and would take me to the hospital for Demerol, and because it is wonderful stuff (it didn't take the pain away, but who cared!), he would take me home and put me to bed in his bed and he would go sleep on the couch (that was OK because he still lived at home with his mom and sister), or he would take me home and put me in my PJs and make sure I was asleep before he left (also OK because I was living with an older couple in the church who had known him for years and knew he would not do anything inappropriate). In November during the year we were dating, he even drove the teens to Youth Conference in Portland (4 hours away) and drove back to take me to get an CT-scan, because of the headaches, and then drove back to bring the kids home. He made sure I got flowers for every major holiday, including a dozen roses on Valentines (the first for me!), and the 12 days of Christmas. I was pretty much swept away.
He took me to the police department when I reported mt step-father's abuse. Sat beside me the whole time, told me how amazed and impressed he was by my ability to say and do what I had done on that day, then that same day, he told me he loved me for the very first time. (another first for me!)
I did think it was weird the way he he told me that he loved me. I had asked him a few days before, because we had a strange conversation the night before I asked him if he loved me. We had taken a couple teen girls with us to take a visitor home. She was visiting her family for the summer, but they lived like 25 miles out of town, but we were willing to pick her up before church and drop her off. So Brad invited a couple of the teen girls to ride along, he said to encourage friendship between the girls. After we dropped her off, the other girls went silly! One calling me mom while we were in the grocery store, only annoyed me in the moment because I am only 6 years older than she is (funny how a year later, I was quite happy to take that role in her life when she needed it, but that story comes later). Anyway, after we got settled back in the van and headed towards home, these girls started asking questions. One asked if Brad would marry her, meaning officiate the ceremony, but somehow that silliness lead to one of the girls asking him what he would say if I asked him to marry me. He said he would say no because it is the man's place to ask. that took them into a whole different conversation :) But after the girls were dropped at their homes, he asked me what I would say if he asked. I asked if he was asking, he said no, he just was wondering what I would say. With that I am pretty sure I gave him an "I don't know." Mostly because, he had never given any indication of how he felt. By this point we had been dating 8 months, though he had given me gifts and/or flowers at every holiday, and even a diamond necklace in July, he had yet to hold my hand, or tell me he loved me, but he was asking about marriage? I was confused by his wondering about my response to that particular question. So after I asked him, and after we spent a very difficult afternoon at the police department, he sat down with his bible and read Proverbs 31 to me. Compared me to the woman described there (which is odd because I was not a wife or a mother, but...), and said,:"You asked if I love you. Yes. I love you."
It was what I wanted to hear, so it was good enough. And though I think it was odd now, I am pretty sure I thought it was so sweet then.
After that there was not another mention of marriage for months. He did start holding my hand, but only of there was absolutely nobody around to see it. Not in stores, not in restaurants, certainly not in church or around the Youth Group (he was the Youth Pastor at the time). That made me feel weird. I thought "why is it OK to hold my hand only when there is nobody else around?" He explained it away by saying he discouraged the teens from holding hands, and he needed to set that example for them. It didn't set quite right as a sufficient answer, but I accepted it, and went along with it.
We went out for Mexican food almost every Sunday, and if we didn't we went home to his (his mother's) house. Even if we went out, we would end up at his house. He knew I didn't (and still don't) enjoy watching TV, yet that is what he had us doing pretty much every week. Except he would set me at the end of the couch, then he would lay down with his head in my lap and then go to sleep, with me stuck, with him laying on me, no way to go home, and too nice to wake him up. Sunday nights, we would usually go to Shari's. Sometimes we would take some of the teens and go to Dairy Queen or Burger King. He said he liked Shari's because it was open 24-hours, so we could sit and talk as late as we wanted and didn't have to worry about them closing. Wednesday nights were also spent at Shari's.
During that time I had questions, like why did he subject me to an afternoon full of TV, even though he knew I didn't want anything to do with it? But he was so "good" to me, I dismissed my "red flags" as my own short comings. And he did so many "nice" things for me!
During that time I had severe chronic migraine (because of my diet, but I had no idea what the real trigger was!), and he would come calling any time I had a headache and would take me to the hospital for Demerol, and because it is wonderful stuff (it didn't take the pain away, but who cared!), he would take me home and put me to bed in his bed and he would go sleep on the couch (that was OK because he still lived at home with his mom and sister), or he would take me home and put me in my PJs and make sure I was asleep before he left (also OK because I was living with an older couple in the church who had known him for years and knew he would not do anything inappropriate). In November during the year we were dating, he even drove the teens to Youth Conference in Portland (4 hours away) and drove back to take me to get an CT-scan, because of the headaches, and then drove back to bring the kids home. He made sure I got flowers for every major holiday, including a dozen roses on Valentines (the first for me!), and the 12 days of Christmas. I was pretty much swept away.
He took me to the police department when I reported mt step-father's abuse. Sat beside me the whole time, told me how amazed and impressed he was by my ability to say and do what I had done on that day, then that same day, he told me he loved me for the very first time. (another first for me!)
I did think it was weird the way he he told me that he loved me. I had asked him a few days before, because we had a strange conversation the night before I asked him if he loved me. We had taken a couple teen girls with us to take a visitor home. She was visiting her family for the summer, but they lived like 25 miles out of town, but we were willing to pick her up before church and drop her off. So Brad invited a couple of the teen girls to ride along, he said to encourage friendship between the girls. After we dropped her off, the other girls went silly! One calling me mom while we were in the grocery store, only annoyed me in the moment because I am only 6 years older than she is (funny how a year later, I was quite happy to take that role in her life when she needed it, but that story comes later). Anyway, after we got settled back in the van and headed towards home, these girls started asking questions. One asked if Brad would marry her, meaning officiate the ceremony, but somehow that silliness lead to one of the girls asking him what he would say if I asked him to marry me. He said he would say no because it is the man's place to ask. that took them into a whole different conversation :) But after the girls were dropped at their homes, he asked me what I would say if he asked. I asked if he was asking, he said no, he just was wondering what I would say. With that I am pretty sure I gave him an "I don't know." Mostly because, he had never given any indication of how he felt. By this point we had been dating 8 months, though he had given me gifts and/or flowers at every holiday, and even a diamond necklace in July, he had yet to hold my hand, or tell me he loved me, but he was asking about marriage? I was confused by his wondering about my response to that particular question. So after I asked him, and after we spent a very difficult afternoon at the police department, he sat down with his bible and read Proverbs 31 to me. Compared me to the woman described there (which is odd because I was not a wife or a mother, but...), and said,:"You asked if I love you. Yes. I love you."
It was what I wanted to hear, so it was good enough. And though I think it was odd now, I am pretty sure I thought it was so sweet then.
After that there was not another mention of marriage for months. He did start holding my hand, but only of there was absolutely nobody around to see it. Not in stores, not in restaurants, certainly not in church or around the Youth Group (he was the Youth Pastor at the time). That made me feel weird. I thought "why is it OK to hold my hand only when there is nobody else around?" He explained it away by saying he discouraged the teens from holding hands, and he needed to set that example for them. It didn't set quite right as a sufficient answer, but I accepted it, and went along with it.
Sunday, October 22, 2017
The beginning
As the Christmas party drew near. The Grandma Lady, tried to encourage me to go, but I thought I was the only unmarried person in the class, and I didn't want to go and be the only one alone. So she talked her grandson (J) into going with me. It was an embarrassing evening because the whole group (aside from Brad and his sister) kept treating us like a couple, when it was certainly more like cousins doing something neither wanted to do, but it made Grandma happy. But J's presence there with me sparked some serious jealousy in Brad.
According to his sister, Brad complained all the way home, and she told him "(I) could date anyone I wanted, (Brad) hadn't had the nerve to even ask me out" (this wasn't told to me until long after we were married)
So, the following weekend, shortly after we returned from a Christmas open house (we got home about 9pm), the phone rang and it was Brad, inviting me to dinner and shopping in a tiny town, not too far from where we lived.
I said "yes." not considering it a date. He was 13 years older than me, I had already dismissed (in my mind)him, because he was too old.
So our first "date" was on a Sunday after church, and though I hadn't said anything to anyone, it seemed the whole church (or at least half of it) knew. I didn't realize it at first, but I got a ton of compliments on my outfit, way more than usual. Was kind of like everyone suddenly noticed I was there. It kind of made me uncomfortable, but I didn't find that extra attention was connected to dating Brad until he told me we were dating, the third time we went out.
I had never dated anyone before. I had no idea how things were supposed to work. I don't know what I expected dating to be like, but I didn't know what we were doing, and I was surprised to discover that we were dating. We only went out after church services. Sunday afternoons, after the morning services, we went to Mexican, then he would take me to his house (at 35, he still lived at home with his mother and sister claiming it was the best economic choice, and he felt obligated to stay after his father died at the beginning of that year), where he would sit is down in front of the TV (which I told him on our first date, I didn't do because I cannot control it), and he would lay down on the couch, using my lap for a pillow, and promptly fall asleep. So, I was stuck, watching TV all afternoon. Then I was "nice" enough to sit there. I hope that today, I would get up and get someone to take me home.
That is pure disrespect. To make someone do what they have told you they avoid because they have a problem, an addiction of sorts, to it, is wrong and potentially harmful. One would not do that to someone who admits to not being able to control alcohol or gambling.
Any other time we went out, Sunday and Wednesday nights primarily, we had teens from the youth group with us. Most of them resented me from the very beginning, and my general dislike for teenagers, made my connecting with them even harder. But I think there may have been more than them being unsure of the new adult in their midst and my own hostility toward teens. I remember one of them (HM) saying to me that she didn't like me at first because Brad always had tons of time for the youth group, but once we started dating the teens never saw him anymore except at church. Well that confused me then and makes me incredibly suspicious now, because I only saw or heard from him at church myself. What was he doing when he wasn't returning my pages (yes he had a pager, we dated in the pure-cell phone era, I am old now, too), and was now too busy for his beloved teens?? And what was he telling them, for them to assume he was with me whenever he was not with them?
Thursday, October 19, 2017
Deceived
If you read my older blog (https://hisgraceistrulyamazing.blogspot.com/) you know I was rescued by a very dear couple, who allowed me to come stay with them in Oregon after they moved away from where we lived in Southern California.
When I got to Oregon I thought I was free from my abuser and safe at last. I did not consciously realize I was simply running away, for nearly a year. But during that year I made foolish choices, because I was certain, that because I had survived abuse and gotten away, I couldn't fall into being abused again. Me today would tell me then, "Don't believe that lie!" Truth is me then, probably would not have listened, but I don't know that for sure, because nobody ever said anything like that to me.
I was needy, I was a child, not simply because I was just 21, but because I was extremely immature for my age. I have heard and read that when a child is abused, they stop growing emotionally until the abuse stops. If that is an accurate observation, then I had the emotional development of a 12 year old at that point in my life. And the experience of the last 20 years, has lead me to believe that is probably pretty close to right, at least in my life.
I never imgined any one would ever want to date or even consider marrying me. The ugliest, dumbest, just grossest person on the planet. I mean even my mother loved a pedophile more than me.
I also didn't realize how damaged I was because I knew I was a victim, and was not going to let that define my life, and I knew I had trust issues that needed to be fixed, so I convinced myself, I was OK.
When I started to church in Oregon, I didn't realize, I was being watched, almost immediately from my first Sunday. He and his sister and mother (at least) watched me, to see if I came every service, to see if I had children, they asked questions to find out what they could about me. I was under surveillance for close to four months before he asked me to dinner and shopping.
I have jokingly remarked that he stalked me for those 4 months. Anymore, I am not so sure that I wasn't being stalked. He said he wanted to know what kind of person I was before getting involved. (I thought I had had to be "good enough", but now I wonder if I had to be weak enough or simple enough)
I made a comment once, referring to my reaction to sugar, that if he had known me in California, he probably wouldn't have had anything to do with me. He quickly agreed.
He needed to feel better than me, and wanted to be confident that I believed he was better than me and I should be grateful that he was willing to take someone so much lesser than himself.
Because I knew where I came from, it was easy to get me to line up with that course of thinking.
Anyway.
In mid-December, there was a Christmas party with our Sunday school class. I didn't want to go.
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Damaged
The world I entered could only have been written for a morning soap opera. My mother was married to an Iranian, but living with (and engaged to) my birth father. Sometime after she was expecting me, her husband, in Iran said he wanted her back, and would accept me as his own, but she refused. She didn't want to move to Iran in the mid-1970s, I think that was very smart on her part. So, her husband in an attempt to get money from his parents, burned down their house, and trapped himself inside, accidentally killing himself.
When I was four months old, my mother returned to CA with me, because (I found out 30 years later) my birth father dropped me and she was scared. I think there may have been more to the story than that, because she did leave in a hurry and she was afraid he would show up on our doorstep one day, wanting me (never happened, I never did meet him, and have no idea if he ever wanted to know me)
I don't know if it was because I am 1/2 Puerto Rican, or if it was because I was born out of wedlock (that was still frowned upon in the 1970s), but when my mother's father died, he left her a very small inheritance, he chose to never meet me (I think I was close to 10 when he died-suicide becaude of Post-Polio syndrome), and she felt like it was evidence of disowning her because of me.
My mother was a single mom until I was 12 years old. How she did it all amazes me still, even more with my life in it's current state. She She worked full-time, went to school part-time, didn't drive, so we had to walk everywhere, we attended church every time the doors were open and went to every event the church had, I was in Girl Scouts and she was one of the leaders, and some how there was still time to play with my friends, play games with her and visit friends and neighbors in their homes. Pretty amazing.
But she had as her highest desire a dad for me and a husband for her. I managed to scare quite a few away, according to her, but one didn't scare off. In fact this December they will be married 29 years. They told me early in their dating that he was a convicted child molester. I had no idea what that meant. He said it meant he had hurt an 8 year old little girl, but he had served his time in jail, and he wouldn't do anything like that to me. And besides, he told me, I wouldn't let him do anything to me, right? That is how he worked with everyone he me. HE told them right away what he had done, then claimed he was sorry and wouldn't ever do that again. Well he did! for years, he had me frightened in to silence. Not because I was afraid he would kill me or himself as he threatened, but because I believed my mother loved him, and I didn't want to hurt her. Eventually she had the choice between keeping him in her life KNOWING he had done the things he had done to me, or having me and her grandchildren in her life... she has made her choice.
I had a few grandfather figures in my life who were good to me. Grandpa Hank, gave me his coffee when he didn't want it anymore, and Burger King was the place we went for lunch when my mother and grandmother went to play Bingo. Grandpa Cousin Bob (long story, but I knew him as Moe's Cousin, before my grandma married him), always took me on a "date" to the movies when they played Bingo. And the men at CBC, only two remain 25 years later, but they taught me to think and listen and helped me figure out what I really believe and why, and why it matters to know what you believe and why. The art of debate, and the beauty of banter with a dash of teasing, the best things the time spent with those men gave me.
But I never knew really what healthy love looked like. Oh, I have seen in in a few marriages over the years, and I had witnessed it as a teenager. But Those men who loved me in a right and proper and healthy way, I only saw for a few weeks a year, or a few minutes a week (at church between services). And when I moved to Oregon, it was almost like it was completely improper for me to speak to the men of the church, like I always had in California, it was strange.
When I was four months old, my mother returned to CA with me, because (I found out 30 years later) my birth father dropped me and she was scared. I think there may have been more to the story than that, because she did leave in a hurry and she was afraid he would show up on our doorstep one day, wanting me (never happened, I never did meet him, and have no idea if he ever wanted to know me)
I don't know if it was because I am 1/2 Puerto Rican, or if it was because I was born out of wedlock (that was still frowned upon in the 1970s), but when my mother's father died, he left her a very small inheritance, he chose to never meet me (I think I was close to 10 when he died-suicide becaude of Post-Polio syndrome), and she felt like it was evidence of disowning her because of me.
My mother was a single mom until I was 12 years old. How she did it all amazes me still, even more with my life in it's current state. She She worked full-time, went to school part-time, didn't drive, so we had to walk everywhere, we attended church every time the doors were open and went to every event the church had, I was in Girl Scouts and she was one of the leaders, and some how there was still time to play with my friends, play games with her and visit friends and neighbors in their homes. Pretty amazing.
But she had as her highest desire a dad for me and a husband for her. I managed to scare quite a few away, according to her, but one didn't scare off. In fact this December they will be married 29 years. They told me early in their dating that he was a convicted child molester. I had no idea what that meant. He said it meant he had hurt an 8 year old little girl, but he had served his time in jail, and he wouldn't do anything like that to me. And besides, he told me, I wouldn't let him do anything to me, right? That is how he worked with everyone he me. HE told them right away what he had done, then claimed he was sorry and wouldn't ever do that again. Well he did! for years, he had me frightened in to silence. Not because I was afraid he would kill me or himself as he threatened, but because I believed my mother loved him, and I didn't want to hurt her. Eventually she had the choice between keeping him in her life KNOWING he had done the things he had done to me, or having me and her grandchildren in her life... she has made her choice.
I had a few grandfather figures in my life who were good to me. Grandpa Hank, gave me his coffee when he didn't want it anymore, and Burger King was the place we went for lunch when my mother and grandmother went to play Bingo. Grandpa Cousin Bob (long story, but I knew him as Moe's Cousin, before my grandma married him), always took me on a "date" to the movies when they played Bingo. And the men at CBC, only two remain 25 years later, but they taught me to think and listen and helped me figure out what I really believe and why, and why it matters to know what you believe and why. The art of debate, and the beauty of banter with a dash of teasing, the best things the time spent with those men gave me.
But I never knew really what healthy love looked like. Oh, I have seen in in a few marriages over the years, and I had witnessed it as a teenager. But Those men who loved me in a right and proper and healthy way, I only saw for a few weeks a year, or a few minutes a week (at church between services). And when I moved to Oregon, it was almost like it was completely improper for me to speak to the men of the church, like I always had in California, it was strange.
Friday, October 13, 2017
Starting over
As things are finally coming to an end in this chapter of my life, I feel like it may be time to blog again, the best healing balm I have found is to write it all out.
As you can see (from the previos entries) I started this two years ago, at the beginning of the end. I am not going to delete those original entries, because I believe I wrote them for a purpose. But the begining of our failure was way before where I began this blog originally.
Let me also make something very clear. My husband started making poor choices 20 years before we met and we are both suffering the consequences of those choices, BUT we both made choices. I chose to encourage our relationship. I chose to marry him. I chose to believe the lies that I was unworthy of such a "wonderful" man and that I should be thankful that he would be willing to have such a "pathetic loser" as myself.
I am in no way trying to place ALL the blame on him, and I am not writing this out to make him look like tha bad guy, or to make those who love him or admire him, turn against him.
I write this for two reasons:
1. To process for myself what has happened, so that I can heal and learn and make wiser chooices in the future.
2. So that someone else might read this and learn so they don't have to go down the same path I did.
There are three sides to every story, this blog, is MY perspective, that does not mean it is 100% RIGHT, it means it is how I see (or saw) it, how I remember living it. And sharing it is primarily for me and my healing, if you read it, it is NOT root, or reference for gossip. Please, DO NOT USE WHAT IS SAID TO DIMINISH ANYONE'S CHARACTER no matter how much you think they deserve it. THAT IS NOT THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG.
EVERY human being is equally created in the image of God and is worthy to be treated with the love, respect and kindness being created in God's image deserves. It took me 40 years to believe that truth, and I know some people never quite believe it. If you are reading this: BELIEVE IT!
It has been a long uphill battle, and my war is not over. I often fear it will not end this side of Heaven, but I know one day it will end and I am on the winning side, and I can and do live in the confidence of that victory. My belief that it will come is as sure as if it has already happened (Because God has told me it will happen, and HE is the only one Who cannot lie, and will not lie to me ever about anything!)
Some reading this have never read any of the blogs I have written, some have read them all, I have no idea who is in either group (and I like it that way). But for those who have not read my other blogs, if you have the time, read them. For the sake of continuity, I will give a brief recap of my life before I start on this journey.
As you can see (from the previos entries) I started this two years ago, at the beginning of the end. I am not going to delete those original entries, because I believe I wrote them for a purpose. But the begining of our failure was way before where I began this blog originally.
Let me also make something very clear. My husband started making poor choices 20 years before we met and we are both suffering the consequences of those choices, BUT we both made choices. I chose to encourage our relationship. I chose to marry him. I chose to believe the lies that I was unworthy of such a "wonderful" man and that I should be thankful that he would be willing to have such a "pathetic loser" as myself.
I am in no way trying to place ALL the blame on him, and I am not writing this out to make him look like tha bad guy, or to make those who love him or admire him, turn against him.
I write this for two reasons:
1. To process for myself what has happened, so that I can heal and learn and make wiser chooices in the future.
2. So that someone else might read this and learn so they don't have to go down the same path I did.
There are three sides to every story, this blog, is MY perspective, that does not mean it is 100% RIGHT, it means it is how I see (or saw) it, how I remember living it. And sharing it is primarily for me and my healing, if you read it, it is NOT root, or reference for gossip. Please, DO NOT USE WHAT IS SAID TO DIMINISH ANYONE'S CHARACTER no matter how much you think they deserve it. THAT IS NOT THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG.
EVERY human being is equally created in the image of God and is worthy to be treated with the love, respect and kindness being created in God's image deserves. It took me 40 years to believe that truth, and I know some people never quite believe it. If you are reading this: BELIEVE IT!
It has been a long uphill battle, and my war is not over. I often fear it will not end this side of Heaven, but I know one day it will end and I am on the winning side, and I can and do live in the confidence of that victory. My belief that it will come is as sure as if it has already happened (Because God has told me it will happen, and HE is the only one Who cannot lie, and will not lie to me ever about anything!)
Some reading this have never read any of the blogs I have written, some have read them all, I have no idea who is in either group (and I like it that way). But for those who have not read my other blogs, if you have the time, read them. For the sake of continuity, I will give a brief recap of my life before I start on this journey.
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