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?

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.

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.

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.