When I was seventeen, I met the man who would become my husband. I was so happy just thinking of the peaceful, happy life that I was finally going to have.
He waited until my eighteenth birthday and talked me into eloping.
I was finally on my way to my amazing and happy life!
We moved into his apartment and for about a month everything seemed great. I was still surrounded by family and friends. My sister and her husband lived next door.
Then he decided it would be a good idea to move to Chicago. Of course, I was born and raised in Georgia and had never left the state. It sounded so exciting to me. I was amazed by everything I saw, even the accents were different.
In the meantime, I had learned that he was thirty-one not twenty-eight like he said. That was the first lie.
Well, we had been in Chicago for a few weeks when things started to change. He was leaving me alone more and I mostly stayed inside the apartment. One day he was gone for hours and when he came home I said “Where were you?”
He hit me so hard across the face and ear that I was stunned and couldn’t hear for a while. I ran out of the apartment and down to the lobby. I was terrified to leave the building.
He came and found me and acted like he was heartbroken that he’d hit me. It had never happened before and would never happen again. He even cried and with all of my eighteen years of wisdom, I believed him.
At that point, I’m not sure what I was thinking but to me, it just seemed normal because that’s how I was raised. I just figured that’s how marriage is and you just live with it.
It wasn’t long and he decided we should move to Minnesota where his family lived. So we packed everything up and moved again. This time I was over eleven hundred miles from home.
Things changed even more, he started with, “You’re so ugly and worthless no one else will ever want you. Then, I found out I was pregnant. Being pregnant did not stop the abuse. Everything escalated.
He was drinking more and more. He would start in the morning with whiskey in his coffee.
He would put his hands around my neck and squeeze until I passed out. Once I had passed out I guess he just stood there until I woke up. I had assorted bruises, a chipped tooth, and black eyes.
We moved a few times but we were In Minnesota for about two years. Those two years were some of the worst in my life but in that time came my reason to survive, my precious baby girl. When I started to be wise to him and wanted out he would threaten me with taking my baby and leaving and I’d never see her again.
He decided we should move back to Chicago, so once again we packed everything we owned into the car and left, this time with a baby.
We were there for a few months when my brother-in-law was in Chicago for work. He finally talked my husband into moving back to Georgia.
I didn’t act excited or happy about it but I knew in my heart if I ever crossed that Georgia line I was staying forever.
But first let me tell you what happened after I came home to Georgia.
We were staying with my sister and her husband and young daughter. I walked into the room and my brother-in-law was beating my sister on the bed. I was yelling for him to stop and my husband and the brother-in-law just stood watching. I picked up the iron and made him get off her.
Needless to say then I was right back with my parents. But this time with a child.