By: Anonymous
Updated: Aug. 3, 2016
Originally Published: Aug. 21, 2015
When I experienced a miscarriage at 26, I could have interpreted it as a sign from above. I grieved deeply for that little one, imagining how their presence would have transformed my life and perhaps even him. But when I took too long to mourn, he shamed me for not bouncing back quickly enough.
The only time he left a physical mark was when I was eight months pregnant with our daughter. After a family dinner at my parents’ house, he exploded during the drive home, racing down the highway. I cried and pleaded for him to slow down. In response, he grabbed my sleeve, yanking it towards him while shouting for me to be quiet. The sound of fabric tearing echoed in the car. He then reached over my pregnant belly to open the door, threatening to push me out if I didn’t stop crying. I fell silent.
Once we got home, I took off that maternity shirt, tears streaming down my face as I examined the shredded fabric. I crumpled it into a tight ball and tossed it deep into the trash—my evidence of his cruelty.
Our daughter arrived a month later, and four years after that, our son came along—a picture-perfect family, or so it seemed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he believed he was living the high life, especially when I discovered he was buying gifts for other women shortly after our son’s birth. The moment I sensed something was off, I turned into a detective. I gathered every shred of evidence I could find to catch him in his deceit.
Manipulators are crafty, but I had credit card statements, spa receptionists, and even florists who were eager to help me piece together the puzzle. My favorite call was to the spa receptionist, where I pretended to be “her.” She said, “Oh, I remember your boyfriend! He was so sweet when he booked that appointment for you!” He thought I was too clueless to put the pieces together. For the first time in 11 years, I felt the thrill of control.
I remember texting my lifelong best friend, the maid of honor from our wedding: “I saw a lawyer and filed for divorce. I can’t talk now, but we will catch up soon. Love you.” Later, she told me it was the best message she had ever received. When I told my parents that I had filed for divorce, their expressions were a mix of happiness and relief.
The first thing I bought after he moved out was a new mascara from CVS. I had stuck with the same one for three years. With every step I took, the feeling of walking on eggshells began to fade. Sometimes I reflect on that “life” and realize we could have been the poster children for an emotional abuser and his victim—a real-life Lifetime movie.
I often wonder why it took the gift-giving for me to take action when there were countless other moments that should have been enough to leave. I worry about my children, wanting them to understand that leaving is always an option—whether it’s the day before or even after the wedding. Returning boxes of champagne flutes and s’more-making kits is far easier than enduring years with an emotional abuser.
There will never be a day when I can share the “unlove” story of their father with them. I need to shield them from that history. But I do have a plan. I’ll tell them about a relationship that happened “before their dad,” sharing my experiences with a man named “Jack.” How it began with delightful breakfasts and thoughtful gifts, only to reveal the darkness beneath.
I won’t hold back the details. They need to know what Jack did and how I found my way out. It’s important they understand there is always a way out—always. They must realize that they don’t have to wait for physical abuse or infidelity to justify leaving. Words that cut deep, lies that hurt, and manipulation are reasons enough to walk away. They need to understand that “only one time” is one time too many.
For those interested in learning more about navigating difficult relationships, check out this blog post. It’s a great resource for understanding the complexities we face. If you’re considering options for artificial insemination, Make A Mom offers an excellent fertility boost. For pregnancy-related questions and resources, UCSF’s center is invaluable.
In summary, my journey through an unloving relationship has taught me the importance of recognizing the warning signs and having the courage to leave. I want my children to know that they deserve a life filled with love and respect, and they should never feel trapped in a cycle of emotional abuse.