Roxy’s Story

I was smitten from the beginning. He was handsome, kind, charismatic, made me laugh, and genuinely seemed to care about me. He had a lot of friends and was well liked. I was blown away that he even noticed me! So I guess I let the little things slide. There were plenty of “red flags” that I ignored. He would tease me around his friends, to the point that I would need to leave the room because I was so embarrassed. Or make me feel bad if I asked him to hold the door for me, or help with other simple tasks.

When I look back on our early days, I can see how I should have left before it even began, but I was young and vulnerable and naive…and apparently he knew it.

The little red flags turned into glaring-flashing-red-lighted billboards, but I thought everything will be better once we are married. I should have known we were destined for disaster when he didn’t want to kiss me at the altar. He gave me a little peck, then hugged me. The photographer didn’t even have time to capture our first kiss as husband and wife! I was so embarrassed and immediately thought, Oh God what have I done? I think I just married a man that doesn’t love me. (Keep in mind, this is within seconds of “you may kiss the bride.”)

Within the first three months of what should have been “honeymoon bliss” I was belittled, ignored, isolated, and manipulated. I I cried he would not comfort me because (and I quote…) “I am not going to feed your insecurity.” He told me I was not allowed to need him or anything else, because “need is weakness.” And he rarely touched me. The inadequacy I felt was unbearable.

Then he got a job in California. And there I was, being whisked away, across the country, far from everyone and everything safe.

We were living in CA. and had been married less than a year and a half. The only words he spoke to me were intentionally designed to wound me. They were calculated and weaponized. Even worse than the word-daggers, was the silence. It was deafening. I knew we were broken beyond repair when he no longer looked at me. The day I confronted him, in the hopes of mending what was tearing us apart, he casually sat back in his seat, folded his arms, and said, “I am bored of kissing you.” Then stared me down with a smug smirk on his face until I left the room sobbing. This was different. So cold. So honest. He would later tell me that he wasn’t going to love me, divorce was too much effort, but that he kept me around to take care of the laundry and the kids.

I know now that I was dealing with gaslighting on a professional level. Back then, no one was talking about domestic violence. And since he had not put his hands on me, I had no idea I was a victim of emotional terrorism. I was just a young girl with a broken heart and nowhere to go.

Our divorce and custody battle were agony. But…I was free. And I knew my kids would finally get to have the healthy, whole, healed mom they deserved. I heard a woman once say, “I stayed so that my kids could have a father, but I left because they needed a mother.” I think that says it all. Getting out is ugly, and often dangerous, and very lonely…and totally worth it. I walk in freedom from abuse, and now my kids have a future free from abuse as well.