My story – Elizabeth S

It took a long time for me to say the words I am a survivor of Domestic Violence. He was the first person I seriously dated. I was in the middle of nursing school at that time and he was a police officer. It was a whirlwind romance. 20 years later looking back he never really dated me. It was the whole love bombing thing to where he had me wrapped around him and had this hold over me. Two years later we were married. Slowly it began. The first I remember was I was pregnant with our first child in an argument he pushed me against the wall, took my keys and would not let me leave. This was the beginning of it’s my fault because I challenged and argued. When my daughter was a week old after having labored for 24 hours and an emergent c section standing in the kitchen he screamed at me while I was holding our daughter, spit on me and dared me to call the police who would believe me because he was the police. 3 years later I got pregnant with my son. Fast forward to the time he dumped all my makeup in the sink, flipped the recliners over and destroyed the den and kitchen and left for hours. He always made sure I knew he had all the power and control. I remember the day I worked in the ICU as a nurse in the middle of summer to hide the bruises of his fingerprints on my arm. I also remember daily being told how worthless I was and what a lazy, fat ass bitch and cunt I was. You hear those things enough you start to believe it as truth. I stayed because I loved this deeply troubled man and prayed that God would fix him and fix our marriage. I stayed for 20 years with this person. In public he was a charmer so sweet and kind. Behind closed doors a monster. He punched a hole through the bedroom door. I hated looking at that everyday. My seperation and divorce from him was so bad. I still have panic attacks from those 20 years and the abuse. I take medication daily. Which is okay. It took me along time to realize that was not love. Because love doesn’t hurt. 16 months after our divorce I am still healing and finding me again. My house is warm and peaceful. I sleep well at night. I am focused on me and my children. What I want everyone women to know is that is not love it is abuse. You are worthy of the right kind of love. The right kind of love respects and heals and it protects and it does not hurt or beat or tear you down as a person. Know your worth, find your strength and if this is your story Get Out.