The day I almost ran away from home

Today is my 3 year anniversary. I have a slight issue with “special holidays”…I expect them to be special. I know it’s my issue and that in the great scheme of things, there are much more important aspects in life than flowers, gifts and dinners. Knowing that, however, doesn’t take the sting off when the special days are forgotten.

Needless to say, I’d been in a mood all day – so when my husband asked me to tell him how I was feeling, I let him have it. I basically told him in an emotional nutshell that I’m very tired of being at the bottom of his priority list, if I’m on it at all. I even went on to say that I will get my needs met elsewhere, being careful to clarify that I meant friends and family. He didn’t like that very much. He picked up the child gate and threw it against the wall, breaking the wall in two places, then proceeded to yell in my face and head butt me. I have a welt and a headache even as I write this hours later.

I wish I could say this is the first time anything like this has ever happened, but it’s not. My husband has a history of exploding, verbally assaulting me, throwing things and even hitting me (small taps and light pushes here and there). Usually he hits me once and then I unload on him. Today was no different except that it’s the first time his hit actually hurt. I punched him several times in retaliation, yelling obscenities as Joshua stood by screaming. It was a scene from Jerry Springer.

The welt on my head, coupled by the fact that I’m 6 months pregnant, really made me draw the line today. I packed my bags and was on my way out the door. I don’t know where I was going. Anywhere, really. He wouldn’t let me leave. He called my father (bad move) and told him he had hit me (worse move). My dad was so upset (worried, pissed off at Pierre), which just made me even more upset. Then he called our pastor, who simply said he would pray for us after I told him I was leaving regardless of what he said. He called his mother, who came over with her husband. They sat there and spoke with me for about two hours until I decided not to leave home.

The question from everyone was the same. Why had I not told anyone that this had been going on. I know it’s because I did not want to ruin my husband’s reputation. More importantly, every time it happened I never thought it would happen again. I also felt a bit like I had handled the situation since I always ended up hitting him more than he hit me. Yet today I was very willing to walk out on my marriage for good. I was even willing to leave my son behind (until my father told me not to and I ended up packing his things as well).

Before I got married, I never understood how a woman could stay in an abusive relationship. Before I experienced what I did today, I never understood how a mom could walk out on her children. Bad relationships sometimes make for bad choices. All in all, I write this because I am grateful. I’m grateful that my husband finally broke out of his desire to be perfect and confessed his faults to those closest to us. I’m grateful the truth is out. I'm grateful that he fought for me and didn't let me leave. I can now move forward with a new hope, knowing that no great marriage has ever gone without trouble.