To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny is telling us about the process of healing after her abusive marriage to Jim.
Marjorie: How about other people, friends and family members? Were they supportive?
Genny: Hardly anybody knew, but the few that did were God's gift to me! I don't think I could have made it without their love and wisdom and their acceptance of my crazy thinking!
M: The Bible tells us that God heals the brokenhearted. Did you pray for healing?
G: All the time! But healing doesn't always come with someone's emphatic prayer or a little dab of oil on your forehead. For me, the single most significant turning point was one morning when a visiting minister to our church spoke on the marriage relationship, how it is for companionship and care and protection of one another. A great sorrow swept over me and I thought, "Oh, just look at what I've missed, what I'm never going to have!" And God spoke in my heart, as clearly as if He had said it out loud, "You have been so hurt and disappointed that you have forgotten how strong and sufficient I was all those years you were single." That changed my outlook completely, because from that day until now I have tried to turn my attention to new ways of remembering. I turn the pain into something positive. And I want to add that this is a very real thing to me, not just another slick way of learning to cope.
M: Tell us how you do this.
G: Well, for example when I recall, "We were sitting in this very restaurant when Jim got angry and stomped out." Then I say, "But oh, Lord, thank You that You are so patient. You have never threatened to leave me."
"Here were all these lies, a whole web of deceit in Jim's life. But God, You are the Faithful One! You are always reliable, perfect in your trustworthiness. I thank You!
"So much scorn was heaped on me. But You, Lord, have always treated me with respect. You have led me through difficult circumstances sometimes, but You have never tried to humiliate me. Thank You!"
And so on through every painful memory. "Lord, You are the perfect Giver. Thank You for giving to me everything pertaining to life and godliness, not for what You might get in return, but out of Your love for me!"
"God, You are not after the control that bars my humanity. You are in control because You are God, but You don't rule Your obedient child with a harsh rod. Thank You!
"Your love is pure, untainted by unrighteous motives. You have nothing to prove about Yourself. And you have no need to make me prove something! Thank You, Lord!
"God, with You there is no shadow of turning. I never have to question your continued love and loyalty. Thank You!
"Lord, Your words are sweeter than honey! Even when You correct me, I feel Your love lifting me to a better place. I thank You!
"God, I know You have a sense of humor, but it is so gentle. You don't seem to laugh at put-downs of people or make light of life's issues. Thank You!
"Lord, You did not choose comfort, but the way of the Cross. You did not choose ease but sacrifice. How I thank You!
"God, You know who You are, the great I AM. You know who I am. And You are letting me learn who we are! Thank You, thank You!"
I have to say that this has not only changed my response to memories, but it has also given me a better understanding and a closer relationship with God the Father. The Scripture even talks about Him being the husband of the forsaken, and that is a beautiful thought to hold onto if one has been hurt and disappointed.
M: So you're actually better and stronger than before? You thought God assured you that this marriage was for your joy and blessing—do you think it's possible that the deeper understanding and relationship with God that you now enjoy is what He was talking about?
G: Well, naturally I thought He meant that Jim and I would have this beautiful marriage and grow old together and all that. This was supposed to be the best part of our lives. I think that is what could have and should have happened, so this is terribly disappointing.. There is sorrow for myself, of course, but for God too, that He didn't get to see His plan worked out as He intended. God is God, but He does not always get what He wants because He lets us make choices.
M: But even though you're disappointed, you don't seem to have a lot of regret.
G: I don't. I believe I needed to marry Jim so that I would not spend the rest of my life regretting that I had missed the opportunity to make a home with this dearest of friends. And I needed to learn things about life and about myself that I didn't even know were missing. I don't think I would be where I am today without this experience, as awful as it was. And I am hoping that other women may be helped by what I have to share.
M: So then, all things really do work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose?
G: Yes, I know they do. I believe that with all my heart!
M: Genny, thank you for sharing! It has not been easy, has it?
G: No, but I have prayed often, "God, don't let what I have experienced be wasted." If our conversation gives to women some understanding and hope, then my prayer has been answered!
This is the end of Genny's shared story, but just the beginning of the new one she's living now!
___________________________________
*A recap of the books Genny mentioned, and others she found helpful:
Angry Men and the Women Who Love Them: Breaking the Cycle of Physical and Emotional Abuse, by Paul Hegstrom
Boundaries: When to Say YES, When to Say NO to Take Control of Your Life, by Henry Cloud and John Townsend
Finding Your Way through Domestic Abuse: A Guide to Physical, Emotional, and Spiritual Healing, by Connie Fourré
It's My Life Now: Starting Over After an Abusive Relationship or Domestic Violence, Meg Kennedy Dugan and Roger R. Hock
Love, Infidelity, and Sexual Addiction, by Christine A. Adams
Telling Yourself the Truth: Find Your Way Out of Depression, Anxiety, Fear, Anger, and Other Common Problems by Applying the Principles of Misbelief Therapy, William Backus and Marie Chapman
Trauma: The Pain That Stays, by Robert Hicks
The Verbally Abusive Relationship: How to Recognize It and How to Respond, by Patricia Evans
Whose Face Is in the Mirror? The Story of One Woman's Journey from the Nightmare of Domestic Abuse to True Healing, by Dianne Schwartz
Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men, by Lundy Bancroft
*Related Websites:
http://www.focusministries1.org/
http://www.drirene.com/ (This is a huge website, but there is a section where Christian women share with each other.)
Showing posts with label Genny's Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Genny's Story. Show all posts
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Genny's Story - 9: Letting Go
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny has been describing acceptance and healing following her abusive marriage.
Marjorie: I'm sure readers are going to want to know: How long does it take to get over trauma like this? How long have you been healing?
Genny: Sometimes I talk to people who are healing from trauma or loss and if they ask how long, I tell them, "Recovery takes as long as it takes." I won't give any other answer because everyone is different and the process is each person's own. How long for me? I don't know yet! Years, anyway.
M: So it's okay not to be "over it" when other people think it's time?
G: That's right! We don't treat any other injuries like that—only emotional and spiritual ones. Like any other loss--and it is a loss--I'm not sure you ever "get over it." At whatever stage a person is, it's okay to be not over it yet. On the other hand, there has to come a place of deep acceptance. That is another healing thing: just to let go. Here was someone I loved who could not or would not love me. And I have to just let that go. The reality is painful, but I found not facing it is even worse.
In my religious tradition, people talk about bringing something to the altar, or laying something on the altar, meaning that they are committing the person or situation completely to God; they are taking their hands off. There was a time—when I backed off because Jim was not involved that much--I "laid Jim on the altar." Well, after he was gone, one morning in church I reminded both myself and God that Jim was still "on the altar," and that I was still committed to following the Lord with my whole being. And God's whisper inside me said, "Now you have to walk away."
So I've had to let go of Jim and walk away from my illusion of a beautiful marriage and a happy home. I've had to face the weakness I have that gives others control of my happiness or success. I have many very good, strong relationships, but I am learning that what those friends or family members think of me is not the standard by which God measures me nor is it how I should measure myself. I am not oblivious to people's opinions, of course, but more and more I am able to recognize that the opinion I have of myself is valid too!
My counselor asked me once, since I had a failed marriage earlier in life, "Do you feel that you've failed again?" No, I didn't fail Jim. Even though we could not stay together, I kept my commitment until the very last. When we both knew there could be no happy ending, I assured him, "I will be faithful to you; you don't have to question that." Whether or not he might have is not the point; I was committed even though by then it was a hopeless cause. I have sometimes mistaken my attempts to rescue people and situations for a commitment to God. My taking the responsibility for things in other people's lives that they should be taking responsibility for themselves is not helping either me or them. And it's not even helping God! He has His own agenda with them. I have to let go of them.
M: I just "have to" ask you this: If you found the love of your life in church and yet it turned out so badly, what about the advice we often hear that church is where a Christian should look for a partner?
G: That's a very fine ideal, but if I've learned anything, it is that you can't always trust "nice." I certainly wouldn't exclude church, but I wouldn't recommend it exclusively for the same reason I wouldn't suggest online searches. Sure, it works out sometimes, but it also has a lot of potential for deceit and heartbreak. A person whose Christian faith is so genuine that you spot them at work or in the classroom or on a group tour or wherever may be a better risk than a "Sunday Christian." Just my opinion. [She grins.]
I wish I had read, years ago, the very practical lists I discovered in a book, Whose Face Is in the Mirror?— "His Warning Signs" and "Our Own Warning Signs." I've had to let go of some of my visionary model!
M: Were there other things you let go?
G: Yes, I quit holding myself to the rigid schedule that had kept me from flying apart. My doctor told me, "You need to begin doing some things that are fun." And I am not ashamed that he also prescribed medication to help me sleep. With his "permission," I began to ease up on myself. It was important for me to do things that brought order instead of chaos and uncertainty and noise for its own sake. Some people clean house like crazy or take up jogging. I needed to rest. I slept. I listened to a lot of beautiful, harmonious music, and I played the piano. I did crossword puzzles and picture puzzles. I read "omnivorously"—everything—and I watched movies if I was pretty sure they had good endings! And very importantly, I kept working where I had contact with people who were "normal." I began to feel sane again, better balanced, probably, than I have ever been in all my adult life.
M: So since you've been laying aside the anger and blame and hurt and worry, there's more room for positive things.
G: A lot more room! I hardly know who I am any more, but now, that's a good, healthy thing!
To be continued, concluding next time.
Genny has been describing acceptance and healing following her abusive marriage.
Marjorie: I'm sure readers are going to want to know: How long does it take to get over trauma like this? How long have you been healing?
Genny: Sometimes I talk to people who are healing from trauma or loss and if they ask how long, I tell them, "Recovery takes as long as it takes." I won't give any other answer because everyone is different and the process is each person's own. How long for me? I don't know yet! Years, anyway.
M: So it's okay not to be "over it" when other people think it's time?
G: That's right! We don't treat any other injuries like that—only emotional and spiritual ones. Like any other loss--and it is a loss--I'm not sure you ever "get over it." At whatever stage a person is, it's okay to be not over it yet. On the other hand, there has to come a place of deep acceptance. That is another healing thing: just to let go. Here was someone I loved who could not or would not love me. And I have to just let that go. The reality is painful, but I found not facing it is even worse.
In my religious tradition, people talk about bringing something to the altar, or laying something on the altar, meaning that they are committing the person or situation completely to God; they are taking their hands off. There was a time—when I backed off because Jim was not involved that much--I "laid Jim on the altar." Well, after he was gone, one morning in church I reminded both myself and God that Jim was still "on the altar," and that I was still committed to following the Lord with my whole being. And God's whisper inside me said, "Now you have to walk away."
So I've had to let go of Jim and walk away from my illusion of a beautiful marriage and a happy home. I've had to face the weakness I have that gives others control of my happiness or success. I have many very good, strong relationships, but I am learning that what those friends or family members think of me is not the standard by which God measures me nor is it how I should measure myself. I am not oblivious to people's opinions, of course, but more and more I am able to recognize that the opinion I have of myself is valid too!
My counselor asked me once, since I had a failed marriage earlier in life, "Do you feel that you've failed again?" No, I didn't fail Jim. Even though we could not stay together, I kept my commitment until the very last. When we both knew there could be no happy ending, I assured him, "I will be faithful to you; you don't have to question that." Whether or not he might have is not the point; I was committed even though by then it was a hopeless cause. I have sometimes mistaken my attempts to rescue people and situations for a commitment to God. My taking the responsibility for things in other people's lives that they should be taking responsibility for themselves is not helping either me or them. And it's not even helping God! He has His own agenda with them. I have to let go of them.
M: I just "have to" ask you this: If you found the love of your life in church and yet it turned out so badly, what about the advice we often hear that church is where a Christian should look for a partner?
G: That's a very fine ideal, but if I've learned anything, it is that you can't always trust "nice." I certainly wouldn't exclude church, but I wouldn't recommend it exclusively for the same reason I wouldn't suggest online searches. Sure, it works out sometimes, but it also has a lot of potential for deceit and heartbreak. A person whose Christian faith is so genuine that you spot them at work or in the classroom or on a group tour or wherever may be a better risk than a "Sunday Christian." Just my opinion. [She grins.]
I wish I had read, years ago, the very practical lists I discovered in a book, Whose Face Is in the Mirror?— "His Warning Signs" and "Our Own Warning Signs." I've had to let go of some of my visionary model!
M: Were there other things you let go?
G: Yes, I quit holding myself to the rigid schedule that had kept me from flying apart. My doctor told me, "You need to begin doing some things that are fun." And I am not ashamed that he also prescribed medication to help me sleep. With his "permission," I began to ease up on myself. It was important for me to do things that brought order instead of chaos and uncertainty and noise for its own sake. Some people clean house like crazy or take up jogging. I needed to rest. I slept. I listened to a lot of beautiful, harmonious music, and I played the piano. I did crossword puzzles and picture puzzles. I read "omnivorously"—everything—and I watched movies if I was pretty sure they had good endings! And very importantly, I kept working where I had contact with people who were "normal." I began to feel sane again, better balanced, probably, than I have ever been in all my adult life.
M: So since you've been laying aside the anger and blame and hurt and worry, there's more room for positive things.
G: A lot more room! I hardly know who I am any more, but now, that's a good, healthy thing!
To be continued, concluding next time.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Genny's Story - 8: Learning to Help Myself
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny talks about specific actions of her own that helped her recover from experiencing abuse.
Marjorie: You said that several things the counselor suggested were helpful to you in recovery, including journaling. Tell us a little about that.
Genny: I am a Christian, but still, forgiveness was a huge issue for me even though Jim and I were no longer together. I had been really terribly wronged, and I had miserable memories. But I knew I did not want to live with bitterness that would eat up my life. So a very important exercise for me was taking a bunch of note cards and organizing all the offenses I could think of that Jim had committed against me. I actually sorted and color-coded them! The first group was the things that irritate "everybody." Maybe ninety-five out of a hundred wives have a husband who tells them how to drive! Lots of husbands don't know how to sort laundry or they put off getting a haircut. I decided I should just forget those things. In the big picture, they are pretty inconsequential.
The next grouping was of the things that had made living with Jim harder than it had to be, but he had little awareness of how to make life run smoothly. He didn't tune in very well to anyone's feelings—not even his own. Everything was pretty much on the surface where words could get him by. So here I put a lot of things like always being late and not showering often enough and "forgetting" to carry his snack stuff back to the kitchen and making a great deal of noise. I remembered the verse that says "charity covers the multitude of sins," and I thought that's what I should do about these things—just deliberately choose to let love be bigger than they were. They had made life with Jim difficult, but they were not truly damaging.
Then there were the genuine wrongs against me: the control, the harsh words, the unkind comparisons, the deceit and lies, the selfishness and laziness. It was hard, but the only thing I could do about those past offenses was to forgive. "If you refuse to forgive, your Father in heaven will not forgive you." I forgave, and then if I remembered the hurtful thing again, I forgave again. Over and over. I still do.
And the last category was sin against God. I had to come to grips with the truth that some of the things in Jim's life are things that God's Word says He hates. Cursing, lust, lies, anger and evil-speaking . . .
M: And his abuse of you?
[Here Genny was silent for a long time.]
M: Is abuse an offense against God?
G: Yes. It breaks His second-greatest commandment. Love.
M: And what could you do about those wrongs?
G: It took me quite awhile to accept that that there was not one single thing I could do about them. Those are God's business, and I just have to leave it up to Him. His love for Jim is as great as His love for me, although I know He isn't pleased with Jim's choices about how to respond to that love. The choices he made would not have hurt me either, if I had not loved him. That is the risk love takes when we marry. It's the risk God takes all the time with each of us.
M: What would you say was the most difficult for you of all those offenses you listed?
G: I think the hardest was coming to the realization and then the acceptance that Jim had never really loved me.
M: And why do you come to that conclusion?
G: Because love doesn't do the things Jim did. No matter how I look at it, it just doesn't. Read the love chapter in the Bible, and you'll see how love behaves. I tried and tried to come up with some other answer, and as long as I was evading what was obvious truth, I wasn't healing. When I ruthlessly said to myself, "Okay, he didn't love me. Deal with it," I then began to gain control of my thoughts and emotions. That did not ease the sorrow, but you know, truth really does set us free, even if the truth is a terrible thing to face
M: But you said earlier that Jim asked you to marry him because he wanted you in his life. Wasn't that love?
G: No, he didn't actually say he wanted me in his life. He needed me, and I wasn't tuned in to that difference before we married. I believe he wanted my stability, my reputation with people, my active faith, my established home—maybe my steady income too, I don't know! Only later did I realize that he never did say, "I want to try to make your life easier and happier. I want to provide for you. I want to be with you always."
I wouldn't go so far as to say Jim set out to hurt me and make my life miserable. Control me? Yes, but I don't think he deliberately decided to do what would bring me pain. Use me? Yes, but that is just the way he expected the relationship to work. And he may well have thought that marriage would somehow make him different from the man he knew himself to be. He may have believed that a stable home and a loving wife were the answer to his misbehavior and have been surprised to find that it was not. I think he didn't really plan for this to cost him anything, and when he realized that love itself has demands—even though I was not personally making them—he opted out in every imaginable way: emotionally, physically, financially, spiritually. And then blamed me for his inadequacies!
To be continued.
Genny talks about specific actions of her own that helped her recover from experiencing abuse.
Marjorie: You said that several things the counselor suggested were helpful to you in recovery, including journaling. Tell us a little about that.
Genny: I am a Christian, but still, forgiveness was a huge issue for me even though Jim and I were no longer together. I had been really terribly wronged, and I had miserable memories. But I knew I did not want to live with bitterness that would eat up my life. So a very important exercise for me was taking a bunch of note cards and organizing all the offenses I could think of that Jim had committed against me. I actually sorted and color-coded them! The first group was the things that irritate "everybody." Maybe ninety-five out of a hundred wives have a husband who tells them how to drive! Lots of husbands don't know how to sort laundry or they put off getting a haircut. I decided I should just forget those things. In the big picture, they are pretty inconsequential.
The next grouping was of the things that had made living with Jim harder than it had to be, but he had little awareness of how to make life run smoothly. He didn't tune in very well to anyone's feelings—not even his own. Everything was pretty much on the surface where words could get him by. So here I put a lot of things like always being late and not showering often enough and "forgetting" to carry his snack stuff back to the kitchen and making a great deal of noise. I remembered the verse that says "charity covers the multitude of sins," and I thought that's what I should do about these things—just deliberately choose to let love be bigger than they were. They had made life with Jim difficult, but they were not truly damaging.
Then there were the genuine wrongs against me: the control, the harsh words, the unkind comparisons, the deceit and lies, the selfishness and laziness. It was hard, but the only thing I could do about those past offenses was to forgive. "If you refuse to forgive, your Father in heaven will not forgive you." I forgave, and then if I remembered the hurtful thing again, I forgave again. Over and over. I still do.
And the last category was sin against God. I had to come to grips with the truth that some of the things in Jim's life are things that God's Word says He hates. Cursing, lust, lies, anger and evil-speaking . . .
M: And his abuse of you?
[Here Genny was silent for a long time.]
M: Is abuse an offense against God?
G: Yes. It breaks His second-greatest commandment. Love.
M: And what could you do about those wrongs?
G: It took me quite awhile to accept that that there was not one single thing I could do about them. Those are God's business, and I just have to leave it up to Him. His love for Jim is as great as His love for me, although I know He isn't pleased with Jim's choices about how to respond to that love. The choices he made would not have hurt me either, if I had not loved him. That is the risk love takes when we marry. It's the risk God takes all the time with each of us.
M: What would you say was the most difficult for you of all those offenses you listed?
G: I think the hardest was coming to the realization and then the acceptance that Jim had never really loved me.
M: And why do you come to that conclusion?
G: Because love doesn't do the things Jim did. No matter how I look at it, it just doesn't. Read the love chapter in the Bible, and you'll see how love behaves. I tried and tried to come up with some other answer, and as long as I was evading what was obvious truth, I wasn't healing. When I ruthlessly said to myself, "Okay, he didn't love me. Deal with it," I then began to gain control of my thoughts and emotions. That did not ease the sorrow, but you know, truth really does set us free, even if the truth is a terrible thing to face
M: But you said earlier that Jim asked you to marry him because he wanted you in his life. Wasn't that love?
G: No, he didn't actually say he wanted me in his life. He needed me, and I wasn't tuned in to that difference before we married. I believe he wanted my stability, my reputation with people, my active faith, my established home—maybe my steady income too, I don't know! Only later did I realize that he never did say, "I want to try to make your life easier and happier. I want to provide for you. I want to be with you always."
I wouldn't go so far as to say Jim set out to hurt me and make my life miserable. Control me? Yes, but I don't think he deliberately decided to do what would bring me pain. Use me? Yes, but that is just the way he expected the relationship to work. And he may well have thought that marriage would somehow make him different from the man he knew himself to be. He may have believed that a stable home and a loving wife were the answer to his misbehavior and have been surprised to find that it was not. I think he didn't really plan for this to cost him anything, and when he realized that love itself has demands—even though I was not personally making them—he opted out in every imaginable way: emotionally, physically, financially, spiritually. And then blamed me for his inadequacies!
To be continued.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Genny's Story - 7: Someone to Help
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny talks about getting help in recovery from her abusive home situation.
Marjorie: When you did finally realize that the kind of power play and control you were experiencing is actually abuse, you didn't tell anybody. Why not?
Genny: Who would believe it? And anyway, I was ashamed. I was a legal assistant, for heaven's sake! You'd think I would be smart enough to know . . .
M: It's not always a matter of being smart enough. But you've mentioned counseling. Was there someone that you and Jim saw?
G: Yes, twice, maybe three times. I decided we needed marriage counseling, but it turned out to be a lot more serious than just learning how to communicate with each other. Jim agreed to go because he knew we were in trouble; his heretofore mild-mannered little wife had declared that we were! After the first few sessions when the counselor began to get a feel for what was going on and began to probe a little, Jim got defensive—all right, really hostile—so much so that he pushed me away, and the counselor told me later that he was afraid for me after we left. Of course, then Jim refused to go back. He called me judgmental and treacherous for consulting a professional, but I knew in my heart that simply was not true. I continued in counseling, off and on, for about a year and a half, even after Jim and I were no longer together. The counselor suggested some books to read and journaling and group support too. Those were helpful to me.
I don't think people should be hesitant to get professional help. It's not weakness to have a doctor set a broken bone or prescribe medicine for your diabetes or to have a lawyer advise about a legal tangle. So we should get over being ashamed to have someone help us with other kinds of difficulty. I believe too that the kind of counselor a person has is so important. You have to have someone who is understanding but who will also help you face the truth.
M: How does one find such a counselor? Would you go to your pastor or other religious leader, or check the Yellow Pages, or what?
G: Oh no, don't check the Yellow Pages! I can't really tell anyone how to find the right person, but I think you might look for a counselor the same way you would look for a doctor. Ask someone. I understand from experience the shame and not wanting anyone to know, but you simply have to find someone who can help. You must tell. There are probably very few women under this kind of duress who can think through or even pray through their situation all alone. The local women's crisis center can help guide a woman toward professional assistance. Or there might even be someone she knows who has needed the kind of help she needs; ask them who they consulted. Ask them whether it was helpful; would they see that person again if necessary? That can be a start, or it may show who not to consult!
M: But how about one's spiritual advisor? Surely he or she can be trusted?
G: Umm, I want to be very cautious here. To tell you the truth, not very many pastors have training that is specific to abusive relationships. I think this training is quite necessary. And too, most pastors are not really able to invest the time that rehabilitation would take--because that's what it will be for the couple, rehab. It's not the same as pre-martial counseling or even counseling when a marriage is in trouble. The answer is not going to present itself in forty-five minutes of conversation and a brief prayer. And sadly, many pastors' understanding of the marriage relationship is much the same as the abuser's: The head of the home (the man) rules--period. The wife is expected to be quiet and submissive and obedient, and if there's a problem with that, she just needs to be more submissive and more obedient.
M: So lots of people, even some counselors, are going to see the abuse as the woman's fault, something she is doing or not doing?
G: I'm afraid that's so. Of course, I can't deny that there are women that are impossible to live with peaceably! But even that is no excuse for beating on them either physically or verbally. It's unlawful to attack people physically, and many psychologists will tell you that other, non-physical kinds of beatings do as much or more damage. It is not the victim's fault. We may blame ourselves, but it is not our fault. The only thing we have done wrong--wrong, as in being mistaken--is tolerating the abuse and then accepting the blame for it. The crux of the matter is that there is something basic in the abuser that needs changing. He or she has to give up the idea that they have the right to control everything--this other person, their environment, even God. The abuse was not about me; it was about Jim.
M: But did you ever feel guilty, like maybe it was partly your fault?
G: Not so much. That's why good counseling is so important. People who would have us believe that there are formulas to fix every marriage might tell me I should feel guilty. But professionals whose business this is, such as my counselor and the authors I read, say "No." Again, my only "fault" was accepting the abuse. My biggest mistake was believing that what Jim said was the truth. The counselor asked me, "Does Jim saying harsh, angry things make them so?" My response was, "If he says it loud enough and long enough, I start to believe it." So the counselor loaned me his book, Telling Yourself the Truth. I had to get past the excusing, which was what Jim did for himself. I had to face the fact that his behavior was not an aberration. He considered himself a victim—of his parents, of the schools and the Church, of Christian counselors, of his ex-wife, of the court system, of his employers, of life in general. And because he was a victim, he had the desire and perhaps even the "right" to hurt other people. From my reading, I know now that he was the classic abuser, and I was the classic spouse who could not understand why this was happening.
M: So then abuse is not about some failure on the part of the one who's on the receiving end?
G: Only in the sense that she—more often than not it's "she"—tolerates it. I learned that I had fed and perpetuated Jim's abuse. I read somewhere that we teach people how to treat us, so I was actually teaching Jim that he could treat me badly, and I would still be kind and gentle. And that I would still be around to cook his meals and do the laundry and pick up after him!
To be continued.
Genny talks about getting help in recovery from her abusive home situation.
Marjorie: When you did finally realize that the kind of power play and control you were experiencing is actually abuse, you didn't tell anybody. Why not?
Genny: Who would believe it? And anyway, I was ashamed. I was a legal assistant, for heaven's sake! You'd think I would be smart enough to know . . .
M: It's not always a matter of being smart enough. But you've mentioned counseling. Was there someone that you and Jim saw?
G: Yes, twice, maybe three times. I decided we needed marriage counseling, but it turned out to be a lot more serious than just learning how to communicate with each other. Jim agreed to go because he knew we were in trouble; his heretofore mild-mannered little wife had declared that we were! After the first few sessions when the counselor began to get a feel for what was going on and began to probe a little, Jim got defensive—all right, really hostile—so much so that he pushed me away, and the counselor told me later that he was afraid for me after we left. Of course, then Jim refused to go back. He called me judgmental and treacherous for consulting a professional, but I knew in my heart that simply was not true. I continued in counseling, off and on, for about a year and a half, even after Jim and I were no longer together. The counselor suggested some books to read and journaling and group support too. Those were helpful to me.
I don't think people should be hesitant to get professional help. It's not weakness to have a doctor set a broken bone or prescribe medicine for your diabetes or to have a lawyer advise about a legal tangle. So we should get over being ashamed to have someone help us with other kinds of difficulty. I believe too that the kind of counselor a person has is so important. You have to have someone who is understanding but who will also help you face the truth.
M: How does one find such a counselor? Would you go to your pastor or other religious leader, or check the Yellow Pages, or what?
G: Oh no, don't check the Yellow Pages! I can't really tell anyone how to find the right person, but I think you might look for a counselor the same way you would look for a doctor. Ask someone. I understand from experience the shame and not wanting anyone to know, but you simply have to find someone who can help. You must tell. There are probably very few women under this kind of duress who can think through or even pray through their situation all alone. The local women's crisis center can help guide a woman toward professional assistance. Or there might even be someone she knows who has needed the kind of help she needs; ask them who they consulted. Ask them whether it was helpful; would they see that person again if necessary? That can be a start, or it may show who not to consult!
M: But how about one's spiritual advisor? Surely he or she can be trusted?
G: Umm, I want to be very cautious here. To tell you the truth, not very many pastors have training that is specific to abusive relationships. I think this training is quite necessary. And too, most pastors are not really able to invest the time that rehabilitation would take--because that's what it will be for the couple, rehab. It's not the same as pre-martial counseling or even counseling when a marriage is in trouble. The answer is not going to present itself in forty-five minutes of conversation and a brief prayer. And sadly, many pastors' understanding of the marriage relationship is much the same as the abuser's: The head of the home (the man) rules--period. The wife is expected to be quiet and submissive and obedient, and if there's a problem with that, she just needs to be more submissive and more obedient.
M: So lots of people, even some counselors, are going to see the abuse as the woman's fault, something she is doing or not doing?
G: I'm afraid that's so. Of course, I can't deny that there are women that are impossible to live with peaceably! But even that is no excuse for beating on them either physically or verbally. It's unlawful to attack people physically, and many psychologists will tell you that other, non-physical kinds of beatings do as much or more damage. It is not the victim's fault. We may blame ourselves, but it is not our fault. The only thing we have done wrong--wrong, as in being mistaken--is tolerating the abuse and then accepting the blame for it. The crux of the matter is that there is something basic in the abuser that needs changing. He or she has to give up the idea that they have the right to control everything--this other person, their environment, even God. The abuse was not about me; it was about Jim.
M: But did you ever feel guilty, like maybe it was partly your fault?
G: Not so much. That's why good counseling is so important. People who would have us believe that there are formulas to fix every marriage might tell me I should feel guilty. But professionals whose business this is, such as my counselor and the authors I read, say "No." Again, my only "fault" was accepting the abuse. My biggest mistake was believing that what Jim said was the truth. The counselor asked me, "Does Jim saying harsh, angry things make them so?" My response was, "If he says it loud enough and long enough, I start to believe it." So the counselor loaned me his book, Telling Yourself the Truth. I had to get past the excusing, which was what Jim did for himself. I had to face the fact that his behavior was not an aberration. He considered himself a victim—of his parents, of the schools and the Church, of Christian counselors, of his ex-wife, of the court system, of his employers, of life in general. And because he was a victim, he had the desire and perhaps even the "right" to hurt other people. From my reading, I know now that he was the classic abuser, and I was the classic spouse who could not understand why this was happening.
M: So then abuse is not about some failure on the part of the one who's on the receiving end?
G: Only in the sense that she—more often than not it's "she"—tolerates it. I learned that I had fed and perpetuated Jim's abuse. I read somewhere that we teach people how to treat us, so I was actually teaching Jim that he could treat me badly, and I would still be kind and gentle. And that I would still be around to cook his meals and do the laundry and pick up after him!
To be continued.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Genny's Story - 6: Staying--or Leaving
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny explains why she was so long in dealing with her situation
Marjorie: I know there can be many factors keeping women in traumatic situations—fear of being alone, financial instability, the children, just plain uncertainty. But maybe denial is what keeps a lot of women in their abusive homes.
Genny: Yes, I think so. But giving it up is really hard. The truth can be very difficult to look at.
M: And why is that?
G: Lots of reasons. People's opinion of you, not wanting to expose the person you have loved, feeling like a failure. But for me, the huge obstacle was a whole group of religious issues. I was very active in our church. Jim was less involved, but still much loved and respected. People actually admired our marriage! I just couldn't stand to humiliate us both by admitting that anything was wrong. And even though he was very wrong in his treatment of me, I had no desire to ruin his name among our church friends. I think our pastors would have been understanding and compassionate, and I can see, looking back, that there may have been a couple of other friends I could have turned to. They say to me now, "I wish I had known. I wish I could have been there for you." But many people in our church still have very conservative beliefs about the marriage relationship. I'm not sure they--especially Jim's friends--would have been that openhearted. First of all, some wouldn't have believed it was true, and secondly, some surely would have blamed me. I just wasn't ready for that. So you can see that this was an area of real conflict for me.
M: You know, Genny, I may have some readers who, like you, have strong ties to conservative churches, and these men and women may feel that what you have described in our earlier conversations about submission and servitude is indeed a wife's role. What would you say to them?
G: Throughout Scripture, I believe, women as well as men are invited into relationship with God. Even the creation passages can be understood in ways that do not relegate women to a secondary place. In the New Testament, it is the clear expectation that both men and women will live lives that display the fruit of the Spirit and represent the cause of Christ well. The "woman passages" that seem so troublesome in Paul's letters almost certainly spoke to a particular problem in a specific church. They do not present a view of women that is consistent with his teachings or his relationships as defined in other passages.
The Apostle Paul is very clear that in Christ, there is no male or female, bond or free, and so forth. Nowhere does he teach that submission is one-way, that is, women--and wives in particular--to men. It just is not there. Submission to each other is one of the ways that love and honor are expressed between husband and wife. Before Paul speaks about the responsibilities of women and of men, he says, "Submit to one another, or be subject to one another, out of reverence for Christ." Or put another way, "Out of respect for Christ, be courteously reverent to one another."
M: And now that we've brought up religious beliefs—if and when it becomes clear that a woman, specifically a Christian woman, cannot survive in her abusive situation, what options do you think she has?
G: She has all the options that there are. Let me name some. First of all, there is just leaving, one or the other of the couple decides to move out, or maybe they can even decide together that would be best for everyone. But do not delay if your safety is threatened. Get out of there--now! And use every means, every legal avenue available, to ensure your peace and well-being.
There is just toughing it out, the worst option of all, and any more I don't even consider it a viable one. There is so much more to life than just waiting for your husband to die! Several years ago—and I have forgotten the source—I ran across, in a national news magazine, the personal account of an abused woman whose husband was killed in a highway accident. In the article, she stated that she was glad he was dead. A storm of angry letters was the response. "How dare she say such a thing?" "How can she be so cold-hearted?" "That's the same as murder." And so on. How preposterous is it for us to tell someone how they should feel? She didn't kill him even though she may have wished that he would die; she was just relieved and grateful that he was gone.
M: So waiting and wishing might be an option, but it's not a very good one! What are other possibilities?
G: Well, as Christian women, we don't want to consider murder as an option, but a great many good church folk think divorce is almost that bad. There's always a big laugh when someone says of their marriage, "Oh no, we never ever considered divorce. But murder? Oh yes, many times!" So are we to conclude that murder would be preferable to divorce? It's supposed to be a joke, but it is so not funny, because divorce is, in fact, one of the options. Yes, I am aware of church regulations, and I know many women who say, "Divorce is absolutely not an option." Then for them, it is not an option. But when a woman asks whether divorce can be an option, she probably is thinking, "Yes, I know it is, but what I'm really asking is, Will God be mad at me? Or, Will I go to hell?" I am convinced that God is more concerned about relationship than law. I cannot believe that He is pleased with someone—man or woman—being trapped in a non-marriage where the bond is already irreparably severed.
Some churches take the position that there are only certain "Biblical permissions" for divorce, usually citing adultery and abandonment. Well, how do we define those? Is adultery only an extra-marital affair, or could it also be conscious emotional entanglement, unfaithfulness at the heart level? Is abandonment the term for physically deserting one's spouse, or does it apply also to the person who may be present in the home but has long since forsaken his vows? These questions are something only the woman herself can decide, but she must be aware that if she makes a decision counter to the church "rules," she may then have to form a different church connection.
M: And what if the woman believes divorce is absolutely not an option?
G: There are other alternatives. Even if a woman feels she dare not divorce, she perhaps could consider separation—legally separated so as to make clear the financial and custodial issues. Sometimes that even provokes the husband to file for divorce, which is another possible outcome.
Then there is annulment, which actually does not dissolve the marriage but declares that it never existed. This has been misused sometimes to remedy general unhappiness with one's spouse, but still, it is a valid legal action. Each state has laws governing annulment just as they have for divorce; most generally those deal with fraud, concealment of facts, or the incapacity to enter into marriage. This sounds strange, I know, but it does happen.
M: Options aren't really "solutions," are they? It must be extremely difficult for a woman to sort out all of this alone.
G: Yes, so add to the reasons you gave for why women stay, "paralysis." They just don't know what to do. Regardless of what an abused woman chooses to do, finding her way is likely to be traumatic. Leaving a marriage is not going to be pleasant, easy, quick, or cheap. It can even be dangerous. Some men become vindictive; they threaten, harass, stalk, do damage, or even inflict physical harm. But when staying is no longer possible, she simply has to leave. I cannot emphasize too much: Get wise professional counsel.
To be continued.
Genny explains why she was so long in dealing with her situation
Marjorie: I know there can be many factors keeping women in traumatic situations—fear of being alone, financial instability, the children, just plain uncertainty. But maybe denial is what keeps a lot of women in their abusive homes.
Genny: Yes, I think so. But giving it up is really hard. The truth can be very difficult to look at.
M: And why is that?
G: Lots of reasons. People's opinion of you, not wanting to expose the person you have loved, feeling like a failure. But for me, the huge obstacle was a whole group of religious issues. I was very active in our church. Jim was less involved, but still much loved and respected. People actually admired our marriage! I just couldn't stand to humiliate us both by admitting that anything was wrong. And even though he was very wrong in his treatment of me, I had no desire to ruin his name among our church friends. I think our pastors would have been understanding and compassionate, and I can see, looking back, that there may have been a couple of other friends I could have turned to. They say to me now, "I wish I had known. I wish I could have been there for you." But many people in our church still have very conservative beliefs about the marriage relationship. I'm not sure they--especially Jim's friends--would have been that openhearted. First of all, some wouldn't have believed it was true, and secondly, some surely would have blamed me. I just wasn't ready for that. So you can see that this was an area of real conflict for me.
M: You know, Genny, I may have some readers who, like you, have strong ties to conservative churches, and these men and women may feel that what you have described in our earlier conversations about submission and servitude is indeed a wife's role. What would you say to them?
G: Throughout Scripture, I believe, women as well as men are invited into relationship with God. Even the creation passages can be understood in ways that do not relegate women to a secondary place. In the New Testament, it is the clear expectation that both men and women will live lives that display the fruit of the Spirit and represent the cause of Christ well. The "woman passages" that seem so troublesome in Paul's letters almost certainly spoke to a particular problem in a specific church. They do not present a view of women that is consistent with his teachings or his relationships as defined in other passages.
The Apostle Paul is very clear that in Christ, there is no male or female, bond or free, and so forth. Nowhere does he teach that submission is one-way, that is, women--and wives in particular--to men. It just is not there. Submission to each other is one of the ways that love and honor are expressed between husband and wife. Before Paul speaks about the responsibilities of women and of men, he says, "Submit to one another, or be subject to one another, out of reverence for Christ." Or put another way, "Out of respect for Christ, be courteously reverent to one another."
M: And now that we've brought up religious beliefs—if and when it becomes clear that a woman, specifically a Christian woman, cannot survive in her abusive situation, what options do you think she has?
G: She has all the options that there are. Let me name some. First of all, there is just leaving, one or the other of the couple decides to move out, or maybe they can even decide together that would be best for everyone. But do not delay if your safety is threatened. Get out of there--now! And use every means, every legal avenue available, to ensure your peace and well-being.
There is just toughing it out, the worst option of all, and any more I don't even consider it a viable one. There is so much more to life than just waiting for your husband to die! Several years ago—and I have forgotten the source—I ran across, in a national news magazine, the personal account of an abused woman whose husband was killed in a highway accident. In the article, she stated that she was glad he was dead. A storm of angry letters was the response. "How dare she say such a thing?" "How can she be so cold-hearted?" "That's the same as murder." And so on. How preposterous is it for us to tell someone how they should feel? She didn't kill him even though she may have wished that he would die; she was just relieved and grateful that he was gone.
M: So waiting and wishing might be an option, but it's not a very good one! What are other possibilities?
G: Well, as Christian women, we don't want to consider murder as an option, but a great many good church folk think divorce is almost that bad. There's always a big laugh when someone says of their marriage, "Oh no, we never ever considered divorce. But murder? Oh yes, many times!" So are we to conclude that murder would be preferable to divorce? It's supposed to be a joke, but it is so not funny, because divorce is, in fact, one of the options. Yes, I am aware of church regulations, and I know many women who say, "Divorce is absolutely not an option." Then for them, it is not an option. But when a woman asks whether divorce can be an option, she probably is thinking, "Yes, I know it is, but what I'm really asking is, Will God be mad at me? Or, Will I go to hell?" I am convinced that God is more concerned about relationship than law. I cannot believe that He is pleased with someone—man or woman—being trapped in a non-marriage where the bond is already irreparably severed.
Some churches take the position that there are only certain "Biblical permissions" for divorce, usually citing adultery and abandonment. Well, how do we define those? Is adultery only an extra-marital affair, or could it also be conscious emotional entanglement, unfaithfulness at the heart level? Is abandonment the term for physically deserting one's spouse, or does it apply also to the person who may be present in the home but has long since forsaken his vows? These questions are something only the woman herself can decide, but she must be aware that if she makes a decision counter to the church "rules," she may then have to form a different church connection.
M: And what if the woman believes divorce is absolutely not an option?
G: There are other alternatives. Even if a woman feels she dare not divorce, she perhaps could consider separation—legally separated so as to make clear the financial and custodial issues. Sometimes that even provokes the husband to file for divorce, which is another possible outcome.
Then there is annulment, which actually does not dissolve the marriage but declares that it never existed. This has been misused sometimes to remedy general unhappiness with one's spouse, but still, it is a valid legal action. Each state has laws governing annulment just as they have for divorce; most generally those deal with fraud, concealment of facts, or the incapacity to enter into marriage. This sounds strange, I know, but it does happen.
M: Options aren't really "solutions," are they? It must be extremely difficult for a woman to sort out all of this alone.
G: Yes, so add to the reasons you gave for why women stay, "paralysis." They just don't know what to do. Regardless of what an abused woman chooses to do, finding her way is likely to be traumatic. Leaving a marriage is not going to be pleasant, easy, quick, or cheap. It can even be dangerous. Some men become vindictive; they threaten, harass, stalk, do damage, or even inflict physical harm. But when staying is no longer possible, she simply has to leave. I cannot emphasize too much: Get wise professional counsel.
To be continued.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Genny's Story - 5: "Something Was Very Wrong"
Genny has just described how her abusive home affected her physically and emotionally.
Marjorie: Did you ever wonder if perhaps Jim was mentally ill, that his anger was something he couldn't help?
Genny: There was definitely something wrong, but he avoided any kind of situation where he might be evaluated. But that he couldn't help it? No, I finally had to give that up. He was a Christian gentleman as far as the church and his few select friends could tell. He controlled his angry, scornful words and his selfish actions when he was around them. So he could have done that for me too, if that's what he had wanted to do. But at home he let "the evil twin" out. He knew how to use his anger as a tool; he could turn it on or off to get whatever it was he wanted. He told me that when he was a child or young man, he stood in front of a mirror and practiced saying vicious things, and that through the years he took satisfaction in seeing how he could wither people with his words.
M: Is it possible that he had some kind of personality disorder?
G: I'm sure that's possible, although I don't know a lot about those problems. Sometimes I wish it could have been as simple as saying, "Well, he has this" or "He is such-and-such." I have to remind myself that this is something he carefully controlled. I even told him, "You're nice to everyone but me." He just kept an expressionless mask over his face—no recognition, no denial either—like I had made some ridiculous statement that he could just ignore. I really believe he liked being angry. I think he felt powerful and in control when he was loud and mean. I read somewhere that anger can give a "high" as addictive as a drug. I think he was addicted. Once in a mellow moment, I told him, "If you could give up your inner rage, you would be a different man." "No, no," he answered, "I am a transformed man." (Meaning that because he had accepted Jesus as Savior, his old life simply didn't exist.) I am here to tell you that was not true. Being "saved" did not bring a deep life change in him.
M: So sometimes you did confront him?
G: Sort of. I'm not sure you could even call it confrontation. I walked away a few times, when he was loud and angry. I left the room or the house while he was yelling, "Don't you dare leave me!" But at that time, I didn't think of actually leaving him as an option. Later, after recognizing the extent of the abuse and deciding, "I am not going to live this way," I did have to begin facing what the next step would be. It didn't seem like an immediate decision that I needed to make in a hurry. I knew I could make it on my own, but I couldn't see myself leaving. I was still clinging to that little bit of hope that he would choose to relate to me as a loving husband.
M: What about those "sort-of" confrontations? Why weren't you more assertive in taking care of yourself in the relationship?
G: It took a very long time to sink in that all of this was not going to turn out okay. Then when I did realize it, I did not have the kind of strength and self-respect that would have been required to stop the mistreatment. I'm not sure I ever possessed that confidence, but if so, it had been beaten down and I was just numb. Had I been that stronger and wiser person, I probably wouldn't have been married to Jim at all.. He was attracted to the quiet, compliant woman I was, and might not have even liked me had I been otherwise!
There was something very wrong, that is to say unbalanced. Over and over I have said to myself, "This man, at least while I lived with him, was wicked or very, very sick." Probably some of both. He was very sick in the sense that he did not respond to life in what would be called "normal" ways. But I think he made little choices over and over again that led in the wrong, self-destructive direction—just like a diabetic may choose to disregard nutritional counsel, or a person with lung cancer continues to smoke. I believe Jim's choices shaped his body and his brain until the bent of his life was pretty nearly irreversible, and perhaps then he really couldn't any longer choose; I don't know. And I have to let God judge whether or not he was wicked. From my perspective, I will say that he did not show the spirit of Christ.
M: But God can deliver from such patterns, can't He?
G: Oh, of course! I really believe that. But it doesn't happen if a person is resisting change. Jim preferred not to submit to any of the costly or painful disciplines God might have used in his life. He just admitted that he loved pleasure and ease too much for that. God doesn't force us to undergo training. We have to present ourselves, prepared for whatever it takes to make us into His disciples.
Knowing that Jim was very wrong does not mean that I accept no responsibility. There's a difference between assuming responsibility and accepting blame. I did not cause the abuse; it was not my fault. I am able now to take responsibility for being the kind of person who could not stand up for herself and say, "This is not right." But it's still not helpful or realistic for me to examine the "Jim years" and tell myself, "Why didn't you just say . . ." "If you had just done such-and-such." If I could have said or done differently, I probably wouldn't even have been in that situation in the first place. The timid little steps I did take were all I could manage at the time.
To be continued.
Marjorie: Did you ever wonder if perhaps Jim was mentally ill, that his anger was something he couldn't help?
Genny: There was definitely something wrong, but he avoided any kind of situation where he might be evaluated. But that he couldn't help it? No, I finally had to give that up. He was a Christian gentleman as far as the church and his few select friends could tell. He controlled his angry, scornful words and his selfish actions when he was around them. So he could have done that for me too, if that's what he had wanted to do. But at home he let "the evil twin" out. He knew how to use his anger as a tool; he could turn it on or off to get whatever it was he wanted. He told me that when he was a child or young man, he stood in front of a mirror and practiced saying vicious things, and that through the years he took satisfaction in seeing how he could wither people with his words.
M: Is it possible that he had some kind of personality disorder?
G: I'm sure that's possible, although I don't know a lot about those problems. Sometimes I wish it could have been as simple as saying, "Well, he has this" or "He is such-and-such." I have to remind myself that this is something he carefully controlled. I even told him, "You're nice to everyone but me." He just kept an expressionless mask over his face—no recognition, no denial either—like I had made some ridiculous statement that he could just ignore. I really believe he liked being angry. I think he felt powerful and in control when he was loud and mean. I read somewhere that anger can give a "high" as addictive as a drug. I think he was addicted. Once in a mellow moment, I told him, "If you could give up your inner rage, you would be a different man." "No, no," he answered, "I am a transformed man." (Meaning that because he had accepted Jesus as Savior, his old life simply didn't exist.) I am here to tell you that was not true. Being "saved" did not bring a deep life change in him.
M: So sometimes you did confront him?
G: Sort of. I'm not sure you could even call it confrontation. I walked away a few times, when he was loud and angry. I left the room or the house while he was yelling, "Don't you dare leave me!" But at that time, I didn't think of actually leaving him as an option. Later, after recognizing the extent of the abuse and deciding, "I am not going to live this way," I did have to begin facing what the next step would be. It didn't seem like an immediate decision that I needed to make in a hurry. I knew I could make it on my own, but I couldn't see myself leaving. I was still clinging to that little bit of hope that he would choose to relate to me as a loving husband.
M: What about those "sort-of" confrontations? Why weren't you more assertive in taking care of yourself in the relationship?
G: It took a very long time to sink in that all of this was not going to turn out okay. Then when I did realize it, I did not have the kind of strength and self-respect that would have been required to stop the mistreatment. I'm not sure I ever possessed that confidence, but if so, it had been beaten down and I was just numb. Had I been that stronger and wiser person, I probably wouldn't have been married to Jim at all.. He was attracted to the quiet, compliant woman I was, and might not have even liked me had I been otherwise!
There was something very wrong, that is to say unbalanced. Over and over I have said to myself, "This man, at least while I lived with him, was wicked or very, very sick." Probably some of both. He was very sick in the sense that he did not respond to life in what would be called "normal" ways. But I think he made little choices over and over again that led in the wrong, self-destructive direction—just like a diabetic may choose to disregard nutritional counsel, or a person with lung cancer continues to smoke. I believe Jim's choices shaped his body and his brain until the bent of his life was pretty nearly irreversible, and perhaps then he really couldn't any longer choose; I don't know. And I have to let God judge whether or not he was wicked. From my perspective, I will say that he did not show the spirit of Christ.
M: But God can deliver from such patterns, can't He?
G: Oh, of course! I really believe that. But it doesn't happen if a person is resisting change. Jim preferred not to submit to any of the costly or painful disciplines God might have used in his life. He just admitted that he loved pleasure and ease too much for that. God doesn't force us to undergo training. We have to present ourselves, prepared for whatever it takes to make us into His disciples.
Knowing that Jim was very wrong does not mean that I accept no responsibility. There's a difference between assuming responsibility and accepting blame. I did not cause the abuse; it was not my fault. I am able now to take responsibility for being the kind of person who could not stand up for herself and say, "This is not right." But it's still not helpful or realistic for me to examine the "Jim years" and tell myself, "Why didn't you just say . . ." "If you had just done such-and-such." If I could have said or done differently, I probably wouldn't even have been in that situation in the first place. The timid little steps I did take were all I could manage at the time.
To be continued.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Genny's Story - 4: But Denial Has a Price
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny has described beginning to discover that she was in an abusive marriage.
Marjorie: So then what did you do with your new understanding that you were, in fact, an abused spouse?
Genny: I did not want to believe that this man I had loved for so long as a friend was a person I did not even recognize. He was small and mean. I did not want to believe that, so I can't really blame the other people whom I felt would not be able to accept the truth about my situation. But not wanting to believe something and choosing not to accept the truth when it has been made obvious is a form of deceit, isn't it? I was grievously aware of Jim's double life—one man in public, a very different man at home. That is just so wrong. But I have recently come to a stunning realization. Without meaning to, I had been pressed into a double life too. At home, "walking on eggshells," exhausted, sad. Away from home, "Fine, thanks. Just fine." Smiling. Efficient at my work. Helpful to others. All my pain bottled up inside. And that is just wrong too. It is no way to live.
M: In your place, I think I might not have been able to survive. You must have hated to be at home.
G: I loved my home. I wanted it to be the place of safety and peace that I believe homes should be. I wanted to be there—and I couldn't stand to be there. I begged Jim to give me some time just to be there alone, and he said, "Yes, yes, of course," and then reneged on his agreement. My emotional conflict took a terrible toll on me physically as well.
M: In what ways?
G: I didn't sleep much, so I was always, always exhausted. I had severe back and shoulder pain that almost nothing helped. I had stomach aches, and my colon acted up. Sometimes I was so stressed while I was eating that a bite would stick in my gullet halfway down, and I would have to stop and breathe deeply and try to relax until the pain went away.
M: Did Jim notice any of this?
G: Yes, and he usually had an answer. "You're eating too fast," or "You're working too hard," or "Have you seen your doctor about that pain?" What I have to wonder now is if the effort to keep his two lives separate affected Jim in some of the same ways. He had lots of little physical ailments, but proudly repeated over and over what a doctor had told him many years ago, that he was strong as a horse. When I told my own doctor that the marriage had ended and I was suffering some physical effects, he said, "But don't think Jim got by. He paid." I guess our bodies know—and they react—when we are not living with integrity.
There is one big difference, though, between the duplicity of Jim's life and what I was doing. Jim purposely deceived. I was compartmentalizing my life, just trying to keep my sanity. It has been helpful for me to understand how I did this, and why it was necessary.
M: And were you angry at Jim?
G: Of course! But anger is a hard emotion for me to admit I have, because of my upbringing. Probably some of the time when I was feeling overwhelming hurt, I was actually angry and it would have been healthier for me if I could have recognized that it was anger. But it took awhile for me to be able to say even to myself, "How could he have done this to me? How dared he talk this way?" It was unthinkable to me at the time to say such a thing to him. So, much, much later, at the point where I could admit I was angry, some healing took place. When I knew what to call it, after awhile I was able to give it up.
M: And were you ever angry and disappointed with God? Did you feel He had let you down or even tricked you?
G: Well yes, I raged a few times, briefly, but He was always right there when I quieted down! After one particularly devastating revelation about Jim's life, coming after he was gone, I was storming around and God said—an inner knowing in my heart—"I saw you. I was there." To me, that says I cannot expect to avoid or get out of every distressing situation, but I will never be abandoned. I really did have a place of refuge, even though it couldn't be my home.
To be continued.
Genny has described beginning to discover that she was in an abusive marriage.
Marjorie: So then what did you do with your new understanding that you were, in fact, an abused spouse?
Genny: I did not want to believe that this man I had loved for so long as a friend was a person I did not even recognize. He was small and mean. I did not want to believe that, so I can't really blame the other people whom I felt would not be able to accept the truth about my situation. But not wanting to believe something and choosing not to accept the truth when it has been made obvious is a form of deceit, isn't it? I was grievously aware of Jim's double life—one man in public, a very different man at home. That is just so wrong. But I have recently come to a stunning realization. Without meaning to, I had been pressed into a double life too. At home, "walking on eggshells," exhausted, sad. Away from home, "Fine, thanks. Just fine." Smiling. Efficient at my work. Helpful to others. All my pain bottled up inside. And that is just wrong too. It is no way to live.
M: In your place, I think I might not have been able to survive. You must have hated to be at home.
G: I loved my home. I wanted it to be the place of safety and peace that I believe homes should be. I wanted to be there—and I couldn't stand to be there. I begged Jim to give me some time just to be there alone, and he said, "Yes, yes, of course," and then reneged on his agreement. My emotional conflict took a terrible toll on me physically as well.
M: In what ways?
G: I didn't sleep much, so I was always, always exhausted. I had severe back and shoulder pain that almost nothing helped. I had stomach aches, and my colon acted up. Sometimes I was so stressed while I was eating that a bite would stick in my gullet halfway down, and I would have to stop and breathe deeply and try to relax until the pain went away.
M: Did Jim notice any of this?
G: Yes, and he usually had an answer. "You're eating too fast," or "You're working too hard," or "Have you seen your doctor about that pain?" What I have to wonder now is if the effort to keep his two lives separate affected Jim in some of the same ways. He had lots of little physical ailments, but proudly repeated over and over what a doctor had told him many years ago, that he was strong as a horse. When I told my own doctor that the marriage had ended and I was suffering some physical effects, he said, "But don't think Jim got by. He paid." I guess our bodies know—and they react—when we are not living with integrity.
There is one big difference, though, between the duplicity of Jim's life and what I was doing. Jim purposely deceived. I was compartmentalizing my life, just trying to keep my sanity. It has been helpful for me to understand how I did this, and why it was necessary.
M: And were you angry at Jim?
G: Of course! But anger is a hard emotion for me to admit I have, because of my upbringing. Probably some of the time when I was feeling overwhelming hurt, I was actually angry and it would have been healthier for me if I could have recognized that it was anger. But it took awhile for me to be able to say even to myself, "How could he have done this to me? How dared he talk this way?" It was unthinkable to me at the time to say such a thing to him. So, much, much later, at the point where I could admit I was angry, some healing took place. When I knew what to call it, after awhile I was able to give it up.
M: And were you ever angry and disappointed with God? Did you feel He had let you down or even tricked you?
G: Well yes, I raged a few times, briefly, but He was always right there when I quieted down! After one particularly devastating revelation about Jim's life, coming after he was gone, I was storming around and God said—an inner knowing in my heart—"I saw you. I was there." To me, that says I cannot expect to avoid or get out of every distressing situation, but I will never be abandoned. I really did have a place of refuge, even though it couldn't be my home.
To be continued.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Genny's Story - 3: Discovery and Denial
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny shares now about how she came to understand that she was being abused in her home.
Marjorie: Tell us something about the process of discovery which led you to see that what you were experiencing was abuse.
Genny: I was a long time coming to that discovery; it truly was a process. It took no time at all, once we were married, for me to realize that harsh and demeaning words were going to be the norm. When you love, though, you can excuse quite a lot and so for awhile, I just handled it like the hurt feelings I might have in any other situation: I asked God to help me get over it. Oh, I just remember he found me praying once after he'd knocked me down verbally, and that made him really mad! Maybe he didn't want God interfering in our relationship . . .?
M: But this was different than ordinary, run-of-the-mill hurt feelings?
G: Yes, this was consistently repeated, worsening as time went on, and expanding to take in more areas.
M: When did you begin to see it for what it was?
G: At the library, I came across the book, Angry Men and the Women Who Love Them. Jim was away, and when I got started reading it, I stayed up most of the night. I would read a few pages and then put the book down and say, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness." Many of the things were so true to my own situation, I could hardly believe I was seeing it on a printed page. Before that, I did not recognize that these actions were a deliberate pattern for the purpose of control. I had no frame of reference to call his actions abusive. When I was hurt and he would say, "Oh, you're just too sensitive," I thought, "Okay, I'm just too sensitive; I'll try to be tougher." But then I read Angry Men and the author (a man, by the way) wrote that angry men often say such things to blame their partner and excuse themselves. I believe that's when I first really saw that what was happening in my home was an identifiable pattern of behavior and that it had a name. Abuse.
M: Can you give us examples from that book?
G: The author names physical abuse, which would obviously include beating and kicking and choking, but also such things as grabbing, pushing, shaking, or arm-twisting. Emotional abuse such as putting the woman down, making her feel bad about herself, "owning" her. Economic abuse: refusing to take financial responsibility, spending her money or using her credit for himself, making unreasonable demands that she account for her expenditures, even unlawful actions. Threats: "You're just lucky to have me." "If you do such-and-such, I will leave you." Intimidation: looks, actions, gestures, or a loud voice intended to put fear into her, demanding undivided attention. Property damage: breaking things (always hers, not his). Isolation: insisting on knowing where she is at all times and who she talks to, hindering her association with other people. Humiliation: hostile humor in public, verbal criticism, inappropriate touching in public. Sexual abuse: rough or unwanted sex, withholding sex. Male privilege: treating her like a servant, perhaps using Scripture about "submission" to justify that behavior. There's more, but that's probably enough!
M: Until you gained some of this information, would you say you were in denial?
G: Oh yes, certainly! You don't want to believe bad, ugly things about someone you love, so you just don't let the thoughts take enough shape that they can be called something. But I have to say that some denial was the only way I had been able to make it that far. If the situation is so bad that you think "This cannot be happening," the next logical step is, "It's not really happening." Women like me begin to deny feeling what we feel, not daring to think what we think, because it's a matter of survival. It's not a matter of trying to be happy; it's just trying to stay sane. It wouldn't have been helpful at all for someone to tell me, "You're just in denial." It's true, I was, but the unconscious part of me knew how much I could deal with and survive. When I was able to receive it, I began to come across the information I needed.
M: "When the learner is ready, the teacher comes"—or something like that."
G: Yes, that was true for me, anyway. It was right there on the printed page. I couldn't deny it any longer.
M: So denial kept you from knowing?
G: Yes, but I don't necessarily think that all denial is a bad thing. I wasn't ready yet to see, and denial protected me--my mind and heart--until I was ready to handle the truth.
M: So a little healthy denial is a good thing?" [I'm smiling!]
G: Yes, I guess you could say that, if you want to live through a situation that's too terrible to live through!
M: Were there incidents that made you see clearly the extent of abuse in your home?
G: Yes, one morning he flew into the worst rage I have ever witnessed by anyone anywhere: yelling, cursing and name-calling, slamming doors. I felt calm, knowing that if he punched or shoved, I would call the police—in a heartbeat. But I excused even that outburst, telling myself, "He was so upset he didn't know what he was saying." So several days later, when one of us brought up that incident and I offered my lenient assessment, he vehemently told me, "I wasn't out of control. I knew exactly what I was doing. And I purposely chose the words that I knew would hurt you the worst."
M: How did you respond to that?
G: I was devastated. Through the years I had made all kinds of excuses for his bad behavior. That day my trust was fractured as I took a hard look at the truth. There were not extenuating circumstances; Jim's behavior was not simply an aberration. This was the real Jim I had not allowed myself to recognize. That was the beginning of my awareness that I was in an ongoing crisis situation. I had to face the fact that Jim was not abusive because he was angry so much as that he was angry because he was an abuser.
M: Let me ask this: Were you ever afraid?
G: Other people were afraid for me sometimes, but I think I was actually afraid only once. We were traveling, staying in a motel. He startled me from exhausted sleep by suddenly turning on the lamp, directly into my face. I went into a panic mode, shaking and crying; I literally could not stop. Instead of trying to calm and comfort me, he stared at me with the most awful expression I had ever seen on his face. The only way I can describe it was a look of evil pleasure; his eyes were excited and glittery. Like a snake's, I thought. I was horrified.
M: But you didn't recognize any of this as abuse?
G: No. It's like I couldn't get my mind around it. This wasn't the first time in my life that a close relationship of mine had faltered and failed, but it was my first experience of abuse and it was utterly incomprehensible. I couldn't believe that somebody who claimed to be godly could be so cruel to a person he had promised to love and cherish.
To be continued.
Genny shares now about how she came to understand that she was being abused in her home.
Marjorie: Tell us something about the process of discovery which led you to see that what you were experiencing was abuse.
Genny: I was a long time coming to that discovery; it truly was a process. It took no time at all, once we were married, for me to realize that harsh and demeaning words were going to be the norm. When you love, though, you can excuse quite a lot and so for awhile, I just handled it like the hurt feelings I might have in any other situation: I asked God to help me get over it. Oh, I just remember he found me praying once after he'd knocked me down verbally, and that made him really mad! Maybe he didn't want God interfering in our relationship . . .?
M: But this was different than ordinary, run-of-the-mill hurt feelings?
G: Yes, this was consistently repeated, worsening as time went on, and expanding to take in more areas.
M: When did you begin to see it for what it was?
G: At the library, I came across the book, Angry Men and the Women Who Love Them. Jim was away, and when I got started reading it, I stayed up most of the night. I would read a few pages and then put the book down and say, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness." Many of the things were so true to my own situation, I could hardly believe I was seeing it on a printed page. Before that, I did not recognize that these actions were a deliberate pattern for the purpose of control. I had no frame of reference to call his actions abusive. When I was hurt and he would say, "Oh, you're just too sensitive," I thought, "Okay, I'm just too sensitive; I'll try to be tougher." But then I read Angry Men and the author (a man, by the way) wrote that angry men often say such things to blame their partner and excuse themselves. I believe that's when I first really saw that what was happening in my home was an identifiable pattern of behavior and that it had a name. Abuse.
M: Can you give us examples from that book?
G: The author names physical abuse, which would obviously include beating and kicking and choking, but also such things as grabbing, pushing, shaking, or arm-twisting. Emotional abuse such as putting the woman down, making her feel bad about herself, "owning" her. Economic abuse: refusing to take financial responsibility, spending her money or using her credit for himself, making unreasonable demands that she account for her expenditures, even unlawful actions. Threats: "You're just lucky to have me." "If you do such-and-such, I will leave you." Intimidation: looks, actions, gestures, or a loud voice intended to put fear into her, demanding undivided attention. Property damage: breaking things (always hers, not his). Isolation: insisting on knowing where she is at all times and who she talks to, hindering her association with other people. Humiliation: hostile humor in public, verbal criticism, inappropriate touching in public. Sexual abuse: rough or unwanted sex, withholding sex. Male privilege: treating her like a servant, perhaps using Scripture about "submission" to justify that behavior. There's more, but that's probably enough!
M: Until you gained some of this information, would you say you were in denial?
G: Oh yes, certainly! You don't want to believe bad, ugly things about someone you love, so you just don't let the thoughts take enough shape that they can be called something. But I have to say that some denial was the only way I had been able to make it that far. If the situation is so bad that you think "This cannot be happening," the next logical step is, "It's not really happening." Women like me begin to deny feeling what we feel, not daring to think what we think, because it's a matter of survival. It's not a matter of trying to be happy; it's just trying to stay sane. It wouldn't have been helpful at all for someone to tell me, "You're just in denial." It's true, I was, but the unconscious part of me knew how much I could deal with and survive. When I was able to receive it, I began to come across the information I needed.
M: "When the learner is ready, the teacher comes"—or something like that."
G: Yes, that was true for me, anyway. It was right there on the printed page. I couldn't deny it any longer.
M: So denial kept you from knowing?
G: Yes, but I don't necessarily think that all denial is a bad thing. I wasn't ready yet to see, and denial protected me--my mind and heart--until I was ready to handle the truth.
M: So a little healthy denial is a good thing?" [I'm smiling!]
G: Yes, I guess you could say that, if you want to live through a situation that's too terrible to live through!
M: Were there incidents that made you see clearly the extent of abuse in your home?
G: Yes, one morning he flew into the worst rage I have ever witnessed by anyone anywhere: yelling, cursing and name-calling, slamming doors. I felt calm, knowing that if he punched or shoved, I would call the police—in a heartbeat. But I excused even that outburst, telling myself, "He was so upset he didn't know what he was saying." So several days later, when one of us brought up that incident and I offered my lenient assessment, he vehemently told me, "I wasn't out of control. I knew exactly what I was doing. And I purposely chose the words that I knew would hurt you the worst."
M: How did you respond to that?
G: I was devastated. Through the years I had made all kinds of excuses for his bad behavior. That day my trust was fractured as I took a hard look at the truth. There were not extenuating circumstances; Jim's behavior was not simply an aberration. This was the real Jim I had not allowed myself to recognize. That was the beginning of my awareness that I was in an ongoing crisis situation. I had to face the fact that Jim was not abusive because he was angry so much as that he was angry because he was an abuser.
M: Let me ask this: Were you ever afraid?
G: Other people were afraid for me sometimes, but I think I was actually afraid only once. We were traveling, staying in a motel. He startled me from exhausted sleep by suddenly turning on the lamp, directly into my face. I went into a panic mode, shaking and crying; I literally could not stop. Instead of trying to calm and comfort me, he stared at me with the most awful expression I had ever seen on his face. The only way I can describe it was a look of evil pleasure; his eyes were excited and glittery. Like a snake's, I thought. I was horrified.
M: But you didn't recognize any of this as abuse?
G: No. It's like I couldn't get my mind around it. This wasn't the first time in my life that a close relationship of mine had faltered and failed, but it was my first experience of abuse and it was utterly incomprehensible. I couldn't believe that somebody who claimed to be godly could be so cruel to a person he had promised to love and cherish.
To be continued.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Genny's Story - 2: "I Didn't Call It Abuse"
To read all previously published parts, click on "Genny's Story" in the labels column at the left. Note that entries appear in reverse order, the most recent on top.
Genny experienced an abusive marriage. She tried very hard, she says, to please her husband.
Marjorie: But did you ever want to give up and just leave? Why did you stay?
Genny: I loved him, and I trusted him to love me. I guess I believed that if he just knew how hurt I was—because I did try to tell him—that he would understand. He did tell me he was glad I was not quarrelsome and that I had a tender heart and was so forgiving. But I don't remember a single one of those times that he told me he was sorry. He might act a little better for awhile, but then he would repeat the same cycle of abuse over and over again.
M: You've said, '"abuse." That's a very strong word. Why are you calling what you experienced abuse?
G: Because of what it did to me. It beat me down until I was not the same person any more, almost not a person at all. He took away my singing, he took away reading and sleeping and enjoying mealtimes. He took away my financial freedom and my own opinions and personal interests. He took away feeling at home in my own home. He took away the pleasure of intimacy. He took away the person I was and tried to make me into his "little woman."
M: And how did that make you feel?
G: At first, it wasn't too bad. I was able to tell myself, "Well, if this is all it takes to make him happy . . ." But the problem was, that didn't make him happy. The demands increased until they seemed to encompass every part of my life, and I was struggling to hold on to my identity. I remember thinking and even writing down my desperate thoughts, "If I do this—this whole 'please the master of the house' thing—I won't know who I am."
M: But you let this happen? You didn't set some boundaries about how he could treat you?
G: No, not really. You see, in the beginning, I wasn't calling it abuse. It was just a rough start at being married, I thought, and it would soon get better. It not only did not get better, it got lots worse. I didn't set appropriate boundaries because I didn't understand that we can do that. That we have to do that. The only thing I knew was to be silent and "submissive."
M: Uh-oh. That sounds familiar. You learned that—where?
G: At my mother's knee. And the church I grew up in. Women were "just" women," you know what I mean? But that was a very powerful idea because it was put in terms of this is what the Bible teaches. This is what God commands. Wives don't tell their husbands anything. They ask. And they listen. And obey.
M: What kind of boundaries might have been appropriate for you to set?
G: It doesn't really work to tell someone, "You can't speak to me like that," because in fact they can. It may be better to say, "You can continue to yell if you want to, but I am not staying in this room to listen." Not much is gained by demanding, "Stop being so critical," because that leaves the choice up to someone else. You might say, "If you continue to criticize this meal, I am going to leave the table." Instead of just remaining silent while her husband continues to rant about something that displeases him, a wife might say, "I would like to continue our discussion of this later when we're both calmer." Or "I won't discuss this with you alone any more; I will talk only in the presence of a counselor."
But be forewarned: Boundaries are almost sure to be pushed against and tested, or even ignored. I read Boundaries by Henry Cloud and John Townsend too late for it to be very helpful for my marriage, but it's not too late for the other relationships where I am learning boundary-setting.
To be continued.
Genny experienced an abusive marriage. She tried very hard, she says, to please her husband.
Marjorie: But did you ever want to give up and just leave? Why did you stay?
Genny: I loved him, and I trusted him to love me. I guess I believed that if he just knew how hurt I was—because I did try to tell him—that he would understand. He did tell me he was glad I was not quarrelsome and that I had a tender heart and was so forgiving. But I don't remember a single one of those times that he told me he was sorry. He might act a little better for awhile, but then he would repeat the same cycle of abuse over and over again.
M: You've said, '"abuse." That's a very strong word. Why are you calling what you experienced abuse?
G: Because of what it did to me. It beat me down until I was not the same person any more, almost not a person at all. He took away my singing, he took away reading and sleeping and enjoying mealtimes. He took away my financial freedom and my own opinions and personal interests. He took away feeling at home in my own home. He took away the pleasure of intimacy. He took away the person I was and tried to make me into his "little woman."
M: And how did that make you feel?
G: At first, it wasn't too bad. I was able to tell myself, "Well, if this is all it takes to make him happy . . ." But the problem was, that didn't make him happy. The demands increased until they seemed to encompass every part of my life, and I was struggling to hold on to my identity. I remember thinking and even writing down my desperate thoughts, "If I do this—this whole 'please the master of the house' thing—I won't know who I am."
M: But you let this happen? You didn't set some boundaries about how he could treat you?
G: No, not really. You see, in the beginning, I wasn't calling it abuse. It was just a rough start at being married, I thought, and it would soon get better. It not only did not get better, it got lots worse. I didn't set appropriate boundaries because I didn't understand that we can do that. That we have to do that. The only thing I knew was to be silent and "submissive."
M: Uh-oh. That sounds familiar. You learned that—where?
G: At my mother's knee. And the church I grew up in. Women were "just" women," you know what I mean? But that was a very powerful idea because it was put in terms of this is what the Bible teaches. This is what God commands. Wives don't tell their husbands anything. They ask. And they listen. And obey.
M: What kind of boundaries might have been appropriate for you to set?
G: It doesn't really work to tell someone, "You can't speak to me like that," because in fact they can. It may be better to say, "You can continue to yell if you want to, but I am not staying in this room to listen." Not much is gained by demanding, "Stop being so critical," because that leaves the choice up to someone else. You might say, "If you continue to criticize this meal, I am going to leave the table." Instead of just remaining silent while her husband continues to rant about something that displeases him, a wife might say, "I would like to continue our discussion of this later when we're both calmer." Or "I won't discuss this with you alone any more; I will talk only in the presence of a counselor."
But be forewarned: Boundaries are almost sure to be pushed against and tested, or even ignored. I read Boundaries by Henry Cloud and John Townsend too late for it to be very helpful for my marriage, but it's not too late for the other relationships where I am learning boundary-setting.
To be continued.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Genny's Story - 1: How It All Started
Sadly, there are many kinds of abuse perpetrated in our society. Although there are men who suffer abuse--and frail elders or the disabled who are mistreated, along with the less dominant person in other relationships--by far those most often hurt are women and children. Since my interest has for a long time been specific to the well-being of women, I want to address that issue here with a true story.
Genny is a "well-rounded," smiling, single-again woman of fifty-something. Her story is real, not something I read or made up, and she is willing to have it told. I have, of course, changed the names and identifying details to protect the privacy of those involved. To give some structure to a great deal of information, I've organized it into a guided conversation.
Here is Genny's story:
Marjorie: Tell my readers a little bit about yourself and your marriage to Jim.
Genny: Well, we married late. I was forty-seven; he was a little older. I was well-established and happy in my career as a legal assistant. He was in sales. We met at church, and hit it off because we had many similar interests: our Christian faith, classical music, literature, museums, old movies, the out-of-doors. For a long time, we didn't actually date. We were just good friends and enjoyed being together as friends. We both had been married before and had families, and weren't looking to make any new mistakes!
M: So your relationship started off just as friends. What made you decide finally to get married?
G: After awhile, I grew to really care about Jim, but he wasn't investing very much in the relationship. Although we stayed friends, I wrote him off as a potential partner. Then later he found himself in a really sad and lonely situation and realized he needed me in his life, and he told me we ought to consider marrying. Honestly, I did not jump at that suggestion. I talked to a mutual friend who knew him well, I thought, longer than I had anyway. He was very supportive of the idea—had been for years. I really prayed about it too, and thought God assured me this was for my joy and blessing.
M: You thought the friend knew him, and you thought this was for your blessing. But it didn't turn out that way.
G: Oh my, no! There was a whole other Jim that I did not know, nobody knew. There was the public person that many people knew and loved. That person was charming and funny. Intelligent. Well-mannered. And he was almost ferocious in proclaiming his love for God. That was the public Jim . . .
M: And the other Jim?
G: I didn't know the other Jim until after we were married. He kept a part of himself hidden from everyone, and then it seems like as soon as he "owned" me, he let the private person come forward. He was so full of anger and contempt. He began the verbal abuse on Day One—except I didn't call it abuse then—and it continued from then on. Financial abuse, verbal and emotional abuse, every kind of abuse except physical. But actually he was moving toward that too. He started mistreating the cat, and my counselor warned me, "First it will be the cat, and then you . . ."
M: Yes, continued abuse almost always escalates.
G: Jim criticized my looks and my speaking and my clothes and my housekeeping. He would talk down to me, scolding me as though I were a child and he needed to correct how I ate and how I walked and sat, even though these were areas that he didn't pay attention to in himself. I've had professional positions my entire working life, and have always been respected and appreciated. I finally told him that not one person, ever in my whole life, had spoken to me as he was speaking. And all he said was, "Well, I'll have to think about that."
He would get mad if I told him what my plans were instead of getting his approval first. Yet sometimes he would suggest something for us to do together, and then change his mind without notice. That was confusing to me; I never knew what I could plan. Sometimes he would blame me for uncomfortable situations he got himself into, and then say something sarcastic about how helpful I was. And he compared me to other women.
M: Ouch!
G: He issued commands to me like I was a dog he was training to heel. Then justified his demands by saying, "That is what a wife would do."
M: Were there a lot of arguments?
G: No, not unless you can call one person's rant an argument. I tried reasonable discussion but couldn't make that work because he could out-talk me any day. And I consider myself pretty verbal! He would go on and on and on, until I was buried in words. But he got really mad if I tried to get a word in. I don't mind someone having strong opinions, but it's something else if they are contemptuous of everyone else's ideas. He would often just dismiss what I thought, so I felt stupid a lot of the time.
If he didn't like something, he simply forbade it. "Throw that old rag away. I don't ever want to see you wearing it again." (This was a blouse on which I had been complimented twice that very day!) "I don't like these forks. [smaller salad forks] Get rid of them." "I won't eat this slop." But on the other hand, if he really liked someone or something he could get embarrassingly gushy. I never knew what his response would be, and I actually think that's the way he wanted it. He told me once, "You will never know what I am thinking, only what I once thought." That was such a strange idea to me that I didn't even take it seriously. My mistake. That was the reality.
He would insist on my giving him the reasons for doing something I had done, and then the next time accuse me of explaining everything in order to satisfy myself that I was right. I couldn't win. I wanted to please him, but it was just impossible, even though he considered himself easy to please—told me that, in fact. "All you have to do is—" whatever.
M: And why were you trying so hard to please him?
G: Well, not always, but most of the time, if I am nice, the people around me are nice too. When Jim wasn't nice, I naturally thought I needed to do something to be nicer because the "nice rule" wasn't working. And besides, I didn't know anything else to do. I really did love him, you know. And I guess I still do love the Jim that I first knew, that I had been friends with for so long
To be continued.
Genny is a "well-rounded," smiling, single-again woman of fifty-something. Her story is real, not something I read or made up, and she is willing to have it told. I have, of course, changed the names and identifying details to protect the privacy of those involved. To give some structure to a great deal of information, I've organized it into a guided conversation.
Here is Genny's story:
Marjorie: Tell my readers a little bit about yourself and your marriage to Jim.
Genny: Well, we married late. I was forty-seven; he was a little older. I was well-established and happy in my career as a legal assistant. He was in sales. We met at church, and hit it off because we had many similar interests: our Christian faith, classical music, literature, museums, old movies, the out-of-doors. For a long time, we didn't actually date. We were just good friends and enjoyed being together as friends. We both had been married before and had families, and weren't looking to make any new mistakes!
M: So your relationship started off just as friends. What made you decide finally to get married?
G: After awhile, I grew to really care about Jim, but he wasn't investing very much in the relationship. Although we stayed friends, I wrote him off as a potential partner. Then later he found himself in a really sad and lonely situation and realized he needed me in his life, and he told me we ought to consider marrying. Honestly, I did not jump at that suggestion. I talked to a mutual friend who knew him well, I thought, longer than I had anyway. He was very supportive of the idea—had been for years. I really prayed about it too, and thought God assured me this was for my joy and blessing.
M: You thought the friend knew him, and you thought this was for your blessing. But it didn't turn out that way.
G: Oh my, no! There was a whole other Jim that I did not know, nobody knew. There was the public person that many people knew and loved. That person was charming and funny. Intelligent. Well-mannered. And he was almost ferocious in proclaiming his love for God. That was the public Jim . . .
M: And the other Jim?
G: I didn't know the other Jim until after we were married. He kept a part of himself hidden from everyone, and then it seems like as soon as he "owned" me, he let the private person come forward. He was so full of anger and contempt. He began the verbal abuse on Day One—except I didn't call it abuse then—and it continued from then on. Financial abuse, verbal and emotional abuse, every kind of abuse except physical. But actually he was moving toward that too. He started mistreating the cat, and my counselor warned me, "First it will be the cat, and then you . . ."
M: Yes, continued abuse almost always escalates.
G: Jim criticized my looks and my speaking and my clothes and my housekeeping. He would talk down to me, scolding me as though I were a child and he needed to correct how I ate and how I walked and sat, even though these were areas that he didn't pay attention to in himself. I've had professional positions my entire working life, and have always been respected and appreciated. I finally told him that not one person, ever in my whole life, had spoken to me as he was speaking. And all he said was, "Well, I'll have to think about that."
He would get mad if I told him what my plans were instead of getting his approval first. Yet sometimes he would suggest something for us to do together, and then change his mind without notice. That was confusing to me; I never knew what I could plan. Sometimes he would blame me for uncomfortable situations he got himself into, and then say something sarcastic about how helpful I was. And he compared me to other women.
M: Ouch!
G: He issued commands to me like I was a dog he was training to heel. Then justified his demands by saying, "That is what a wife would do."
M: Were there a lot of arguments?
G: No, not unless you can call one person's rant an argument. I tried reasonable discussion but couldn't make that work because he could out-talk me any day. And I consider myself pretty verbal! He would go on and on and on, until I was buried in words. But he got really mad if I tried to get a word in. I don't mind someone having strong opinions, but it's something else if they are contemptuous of everyone else's ideas. He would often just dismiss what I thought, so I felt stupid a lot of the time.
If he didn't like something, he simply forbade it. "Throw that old rag away. I don't ever want to see you wearing it again." (This was a blouse on which I had been complimented twice that very day!) "I don't like these forks. [smaller salad forks] Get rid of them." "I won't eat this slop." But on the other hand, if he really liked someone or something he could get embarrassingly gushy. I never knew what his response would be, and I actually think that's the way he wanted it. He told me once, "You will never know what I am thinking, only what I once thought." That was such a strange idea to me that I didn't even take it seriously. My mistake. That was the reality.
He would insist on my giving him the reasons for doing something I had done, and then the next time accuse me of explaining everything in order to satisfy myself that I was right. I couldn't win. I wanted to please him, but it was just impossible, even though he considered himself easy to please—told me that, in fact. "All you have to do is—" whatever.
M: And why were you trying so hard to please him?
G: Well, not always, but most of the time, if I am nice, the people around me are nice too. When Jim wasn't nice, I naturally thought I needed to do something to be nicer because the "nice rule" wasn't working. And besides, I didn't know anything else to do. I really did love him, you know. And I guess I still do love the Jim that I first knew, that I had been friends with for so long
To be continued.
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