I met my ex-husband online. I was widowed with a young child and hopeful of having a family again. We dated for a couple of years and had a shared dream of living on a piece of land in the country. Shortly after marrying and relocating, a pattern emerged that was not clear before we lived together. Unexpectedly, he would become hostile, never physically violent, but verbally demeaning, frustrated, and would complain about made-up situations that became my fault. The story that would be replayed over and over behind closed doors was that I did not bring enough money into the marriage. That I came into the marriage with debt, and he paid it off. That I did not earn enough money and made reckless decisions in my effort to relocate and find a job where he lived. I earned an income as a long-term sub, found a full-time job, and was instructed to put all of my income in a joint bank account. My son’s social security payment was also instructed to be deposited into the joint account. Slowly, my retirement savings from 10 years of service was withdrawn to pay-off my student loans. He would tell family members that he paid-off my debt. I was furious. Then, he wanted a new truck. His mother decided he should have a new truck, too. And, she believed that he had paid-off my debt, knowing it wasn’t true. She would say that I needed to trade-in my car for a truck knowing that I would be driving his 96′ Buick. I took my son to daycare/school, got the groceries, picked-up my son after work, and made dinner to his exact dietary needs daily. We were to wake him up before leaving. If he woke up before we left, he would look for something to pick-on so that he could blow-off steam. Along with not earning money, his other storyline became “I don’t do anything around the house.” I was to clean to his specifications. I believe strongly in the scripture, and enjoyed attending his uncle’s church. He stopped attending church due to being tired from working so much. When he did go, he would often be angry on the way home. Often he would tell me I was insane. Looking back, I realize that the sermons were shining light on what he was doing wrong, and he was taking it out on me. He became increasingly aggressive in his anger, having thrown a knife at me across the kitchen in front of my son. He threw a plate, threw his food across the table. He had a great job, was making more money, we were so close to reaching our goal, and the hostility was growing. Finally, I agreed to trade-in my car for a new GMC truck. I thought it might calm him down and his mother would be pleased. My car was making a strange noise and it was better to trade-it in while the miles were low. Then, he began to argue that because he had been making payments for my car out of our shared account, that it was his truck. The only time I needed to drive the truck was to church on Sunday. I was not allowed to go. I was assigned tasks at our property in preparation for hunting season. So, he said he would read some scriptures at home. The verses he chose for the first at-home reading were about submitting to husbands, and obeying parents. When he read over “do not be harsh with them,” I cried, and he said “awe, I’m harsh with you all the time.” The next reading was about working as is fitting to the Lord. As the summer progressed, some days were better than others. I decided to take a regular teaching job as the coaching position I was offered would not be continuing the following year. I knew the teaching position would be less pay, but was stable, which I craved. I would have to miss a pay one month due to the change. I did not clearly tell him that when the position came. He was furious when the month came. We were going to West Virginia for a long weekend. I had to ask for permission to take an extra day off that weekend as it is not allowed in the schools. My administrator was shocked that my husband was demanding that I be given the day off. She allowed it. The morning we were leaving, he told me to clean the entire house. I had to mop. He made me get rid of my old mop for a new one that you had to ring by hand. Then, I got sick over our vacation. I can still remember him telling me to walk faster when bringing our dinner to the table. Two weeks later we would be separated. I wanted to go to church. I woke up early, washed the truck, made breakfast, got my son ready, listened to his angry tirade about the biscuits being cold by the time he got up, then, when he had finished fusing, I took my son to church. He stood outside next to the house watching us leave. We were scared. We called my son’s half-brothers on the way back home to say hi. The following week, I remember we were a restaurant, I said, “maybe one day when I make more money, you can buy one of those newer trucks you like better and I can drive this truck to work.” He snapped and said it was his truck and I would never be driving it. My son said, “Not uh, you traded mommy’s car for the truck so it’s mommy’s car, too.” He accused me of manipulating my son and told him, “if you ever say that again I’m going to beat your ass.” I began to pray for my son’s safety. I asked him at dinner when he stopped listening to his father, he said “as soon as I was old enough to take him.” That Friday, he asked me to wake him up early the next morning to take my son to the hunting camp so he could prepare for the season. I said I would if I could go to church. He agreed. He thanked me for getting him up the next day and told me not to lay around the house or go shopping for myself. That I was to exercise his dog. So, I took her on a hike. I went to get groceries on the way home and took a nap because I was tired. I did not clean. He came home and told me I would not be allowed to go to church. The following morning, I woke up and said good morning to him (he always slept on the couch). He was masturbating. I walked to the bathroom confused. He came in and said hi to me and did not like the look on my face. He began screaming, “get busy cleaning.” He did not stop screaming. I walked back to my room and looked around wondering what to clean, thinking, it will be done wrong anyway. I tried to get out the door to get help, he blocked me, turned me around gently, smiling, saying “no, get busy cleaning.” I tried running to the other door, and my son began to cry. He moved my son into the other room in-front of the TV. And returned to demean and berate, demanding that I clean. I went into my son’s bedroom and began putting clothes away. He walked down the hallway with a hot cup of coffee, shaking. The coffee was spilling over the sides of the cup. He said, “if you had been willing to go to the property none of this would have happened.” He said, “do it for Jesus, Tracy.” I replied, “you are not a God and not a king.” He threw the coffee into my face and walked away. Quickly, I ran across the hall and called 911. He barged into my room (doors did not lock) before I could talk and say “no” and took my phone and my purse. Later I realized he took my set of keys to the truck out of my purse at that moment. I returned to my son’s room. He walked down the hall again and asked me who I called in Fincastle. I said I did not call anyone in Fincastle. He asked me to play the voicemail. I did. It was the police. He told me to call them back and tell them nothing was going on. Right at that moment the police knocked at the door. He was arrested for assault. I remember not wanting him to be arrested. Being scared. The coffee made the assault obvious. I wish I was not in shock so that I could have told the police more. Some officers were kind, but most were laughing. He was released that afternoon with a temporary restraining order. My son and I were terrified. He said he would stay elsewhere and that the relationship was over. I contacted my attorney later that week and after months of counseling and a skilled defense I am in a better situation. Divorcing a husband who is Christian was difficult. His uncle said that according to Corinthians 7:15 there is biblical support for a divorce. Ever since that day, my life has slowly but steadily gotten better. Just a few weeks ago, I learned that his truck was rear ended, about 1-year after he said he would beat my son’s ass. Vengeance is the Lord’s alone. He will repay.
Notice: The names in this story are fictitious to protect the request for anonymity.
