In 2014, I met a man from Tinder who was almost 7′ tall, gorgeous, 24, with blue eyes, chesnut brown hair. I was a 26 year old, 5’11”, college educated general manager of an optometry office with a budding little career and an apartment. We immediately connected on our childhood traumas and mutual care for humanity. He told me he graduated from University of Nebraska, but didn’t graduate. He said he studied agricultural studies and wanted to be a farmer. He was covered in tattoos and admitted to having done time in prison for drugs. He told me he had gotten a welding license while incarcerated and was working as a welder. We spent all day and night with each other or talking to each other from that first date in May 2014. We were thick as thieves. I was so taken with him. First red flag was finding out he had a misdemeanor for domestic violence 5 years prior. He explained that he was a 19 year old heroin addict who made a mistake. I believed him. My apartment was broken into 2 weeks into our relationship by my across the hall neighbors. At the time, I thought it was a weird coincidence, but looking back, he spoke to them the day before the robbery. 2 months in, he moved in with me. He had nowhere to go. He originally told me he had his own place, but eventually told me he lived with his parents and his father was a violent man. After 1 particularly bad fight in July of 2014, I picked him up from therapy and moved him in with me. He took care of me when I had my gall bladder taken out. I especially liked how a recovering addict didn’t steal my meds and relapse. Then in September, he got a warrant for his arrest. He refused to turn himself in for violating probation, kept crying on my couch about how he didn’t want to go to prison. I kept him at my house, in a different jurisdiction, for 4 months. In that time, I became pregnant. I was promised that he would go to jail for a little while until his parents could post bail. I trusted him and his parents.
Flash forward to February16th, 2015. We had to turn him in and talk to the attorney his parents got him. Everything he had told me was a lie. He wasn’t a welder, he never went to college, and much later I learned he never graduated high school. I was shocked. The attorney told me to be prepared to deliver my baby alone. I was terrified. I cried so hard on the way home from work that day that I puked. He spent 18 months incarcerated. I delivered my baby girl alone, but I realized in that attorney’s office I was trapped. I have PCOS and was told I wouldn’t have kids, so to be pregnant at all was a blessing. I also gave him my word that I’d stand by him. So I did. I visited him every 2 weeks, went to a 3 month family therapy program at the prison with him and his mom. I made all the calls and I helped him get home early on electronic monitoring. He got out a week before our daughter’s first birthday. I got him a job, rides, a place to live in the jurisdiction, and moved 45 minutes away from my job to make sure he could get out. We got married on our daughter’s first birthday at the courthouse. He had proposed 3 times before and was really wanting to get married.
I ended up pregnant within a month of his release with my son. My abuser was not happy despite telling me he wanted another baby. Being on house arrest meant that he needed permission to go to doctor’s appointments. He never got permission. He wasn’t interested. Then one day he said he needed me and my daughter to leave for a few days. I knew in my gut he was cheating. I had to couch surf with a toddler in toe for a week before I finally caught him. He continuously gaslit and lied to me, made it awful for me to exist. He called my work repeatedly, resulting in me quitting my job due to the constant harassment and chaos he was creating in my life. He was cheating with someone he met in NA. The first time he hit me was December 18th, 2016, all because I was devastated that he cheated after all the effort I had put in to keep us together. He choked me, threw me into kitchen appliances, slapped me, and restraining me on multiple occasions. I finally filed a restraining order, which was approved in 4 hours, in January 2017. I was planning to file for divorce, but he filed first. My attorney advised me that in the state of Indiana, I could not get a divorce whilst pregnant, so the hearings were pushed. By the end of that month, he had violated probation again and was sent back to prison for another 18 months.
I spent my pregnancy crying hysterically and depressed beyond measure. I lived with my parents and didn’t work because of my pregnancy. I had my son in June 2017 and everyone in my family was aware of my only request: do NOT tell anyone where my hospital room was because I wanted to see my in-laws (though we were legally separated) on my own terms. My mother told my ex MIL where I was. The day after I delivered, my ex MIL and FIL were at the hospital to meet their grandson. Conveniently, they visited at the time my abuser usually called his mom from prison. There was an active restraining order in place. She asked if I wanted to speak to him and I said no, there’s a restraining order. She said he won’t tell if you don’t. I had some things to get off my chest so I took the call. I yelled at him. For weeks, I took calls and yelled at him for breaking up our family and taking me for granted. He took it and vowed to be better. He got out in May of 2018 and he did seem better, more motivated, more present, but he immediately violated probation by smoking marijuana. That caused a lot of friction between us.
He had started to get violent again starting in August 2018. Little stuff like recklessly driving the car at first. I chalked it up to stress as we were trying to get our own place. In October 2018, the night before my best friend’s wedding in New Orleans, he head butted me so hard my nose bled while he was black out drunk. I was so thankful to not have black eyes and the lack of marks to me meant it didn’t happen. I can still remember my nose dripping in the Air BnB. By December, he admitted to dealing drugs behind my back with a friend and admitted it to me by telling me someone had called him into CrimeStoppers for these acts. I was absolutely devastated. He missed the birth of both his kids and now he’s out gambling away his freedom? We got into a fight. He got violent and choked me, punched me, hit me, threw me, and beat me to the point of having bruises all over. I lied and said my mom and I got in a fight. We were having problems and I didn’t want anyone to know what had truly happened. He got arrested for violating probation at court 2 days later. When I showed up to court with bruises all over, no one questioned it or me at all. No one had any reaction. I thought I was crazy and kind of dismissed the whole incident. He told me he had a PTSD episode and thought I was a corrections officer. Later on, he told me he was high on xanax and didn’t remember that incident. He was sentenced to 90 days in jail 7 days before Christmas 2018. I was devastated yet again.
I drafted divorce papers in purple ink. I brought them to the jail for a video visit. I said that I was done unless he cleaned up his act for good. He was sufficiently scared and promised to do right. This time, he really did. Held jobs, got new ones, took care of the kids, helped at home. He seemed like he’d really turned a corner. He worked a good job as a fork truck operator and seemed to be good until he got a lower back injury in the winter of 2019. They went back and forth about surgery. I attended all his appointments as required by him. They decided to do pain management instead. He had me count his dosages and help him manage. He did great on that until he sustained a “SLAP tear” in his right shoulder. Later, I found out he tore his rotator cuff and lied to get out of doing housework and caring for our kids. With all the responsibilities back on me again, I was drowning. Stressed, exhausted, and just plain sick of it, I told him I was struggling with my mental health. He quit his job and we lost our insurance. I was working, but my employer did not offer health insurance. It was a very small company. Now, we couldn’t get our mental health treatment. It wasn’t a good thing.
By May 2021, he was unemployed and still hurt. He tried working warehouse again, but complained that his pain was too great. I was once again the sole breadwinner. He ended up linking up with my nephew and getting into crystal meth. Dealing it, using it, and sleeping with sex workers sounded like a great idea to a married father of 2. Suddenly, it was like I was living with a stranger. The man who used to be the chocolate milk monster with the kids was now screaming, destroying things, and hurting me. I was fearful, but called this a “rough patch” in my marriage, thinking he relapsed and needed help. I tried to take him to rehab and he tried to wreck the car while I was driving it. He eventually held me hostage in our house for days then kidnapped me, saying he was going to take me to my new job. He wouldn’t let me go to work that day for no particular reason. In reality, he drove me through a red light on a side street going 50MPH and asked me if I wanted to die. He prevented me from leaving. He hit me and restrained me. I overdosed on gabapentin and bupropion to end the suffering. I couldn’t take it anymore. He came home, saw me, called his mom to tell her he couldn’t call 911 because they’d know he abused me. He left me there with my kids alone to die.
I was awoken at 3am by his mistress, a 23 year old stripper that I had met in passing, banging on my front door. He insisted they weren’t having an affair, but she confirmed it to me at that time. I called my abuser because I needed her to leave and for this issue to be resolved. She told me her cellphone was in our car and she wanted it back. He came back and it was chaos. He admitted to the cheating and blamed me for it. When his mistress wouldn’t leave, he called the cops on her. I had been beaten the day before and I tried to show the police my bruises, but they advised me that since they were not called to a domestic violence incident, they could not help me. They left me there. Soon, the mistress left and he took it all out on me. Beat me, punched me, kicked me, threatened to rape me, and finally held a knife to my throat while choking me in front of my daughter, who was 5 at the time. I’ll never forget her eyes.
The next day, I went to work, hoping I could talk to my boss about what happened. When he arrived, I was fired. I tried to explain, but they didn’t want to hear it. I got a ride home from my nephew, who advised me to report the abuse. When I got home, I went through my abuser’s phone and found a treasure trove of cheating, drug dealing, and guns. My abuser told me he worked for the cartel and we were constantly being watched/followed. I was scared, but when I went through his phone, I found out the “cartel member” was really just him messaging himself. Suddenly, he ripped the phone from my hands. He started questioning why I was home and I explained I had been fired. He slapped me so hard, my glasses went FLYING across the garage, and I couldn’t find them. He took our car keys and threw them in a pile of trash. He then instructed me to find the keys so he could leave or there would be consequences. I explained that I couldn’t see because my glasses were missing. He went inside and grabbed my son. I tried to call 911 and he took my phone, beating me over the head with the phone before I could call. I grabbed the back up phone I had and somehow called 911. The police came and immediately arrested him. He went to jail and called me to tell me there was a no contact order. I didn’t report him. I thought it was the meth. His mom bonded him out and we tried to work it out.
I was staying with a friend in another city when he was released and I decided to see him and try. He was crying, begging, pleading with me to come home and work it out. The kids were crying for their dad. We tried. I left once because he put us in danger again and I caught him cheating. He made an entire TikTok account just to manipulate me into believing he was sorry. He was not. The week of September 19th, 2021, he beat me every single day. Refused to allow me to leave the house. I was so bruised by September 25th that I begged him to kill me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew my nose was broken along with my right rong finger. On the 25th, he beat me for 8 hours. I finally got the strength to kick him out. I told him to take our only car and get out. I didn’t care where he went as long as he was away drom me. He brought me a pack of cigarettes and left around 9pm. I was in excruciating pain. I woke up the next morning to my son announcing daddy was home. I was terrified and livid. Why did he come back? I got my strength back up, packed the kids in the car, grabbed a bag I had packed just in case, and went back inside to sneak the keys out of his pocket. His phone was ringing. I told him to answer it because he was sleeping and it was yet another sex worker looking for their man. He shot out of bed and ran downstairs, got in the car, and wouldn’t get out.
I told him to get out. He refused. I told him I was going to the ER to get help for my nose. He still refused so I started driving. He beat me while I was driving. He berated me. He jerked the steering wheel. My kids were in the backseat crying. I was so close to freedom. When I got to the ER, he got out and made a scene. I quickly got back in the car and offered to take him ANYWHERE he wanted to go to get him away. He refused. I knew he had a motel room for dealing drugs so I tried to take him to the motel. He jerked the steering wheel and punched me. After trying to figure out what to do with him for about 10 minutes, I decided to take him to our housing division and drop him off. I was 5 minutes away when another vehicle pulled in front of mine and alerted me to the police behind us. Suddenly, he was arrested and I was on my way to the ER. DCS got involved. It was a mess. He still called me from jail while the charges were pending. He never left me alone. I developed COVID-19 pnemonia and spent 3 days on oxygen. All I could think about was getting my family back to where it was before meth. I advocated for him to get a lenient sentence in exchange for drug and mental health treatment. He got out and we kept trying. I couldn’t let him go. I was very traumabonded to him.
By Christmas Eve 2021, I was over it. I was tired of the drama and the pain amd the affairs. He had 2 other known girlfriends by then, but I didn’t know until Christmas eve. When I saw a girl texting him, I called the number to get more info. He caught me and beat me over the head with my phone and his. We came inside from the garage and he made a sudden movement so I punched him in the face. I ran upstairs into the bathroom, trying futily to keep him out. He forced his way in, threw me into the bathtub, and threw a plastic toy at me that shattered into a million pieces. By Christmas morning, I had 2 black eyes and a treasure trove of new bruises. I couldn’t report it because DCS was involved and they would have taken my kids. That was really the turning point for me.
He beat me 2 additional times in January and told all of us he had stage 2 multiple myeloma, 4 years tops to live. He said he needed space to process his diagnosis, so you can imagine my shock when he ended all communication with me and announced he had a new girlfriend. I finally saw him for what he truly is: a narcissist and woman beater. So what if he’s a great artist? He tortured his family for fun and abandoned us when we couldn’t provide him with supply anymore.
It took me 11 tries to get away and this is a super watered down version of this story. Please, if you’re not safe in your relationship at ANY point, then tell someone. It is NOT your shame to carry, it’s THEIRS. I wish I had gotten away sooner. Be safe everyone.
