Even though it has been several years since her divorce, "Michelle" still wakes in the middle of the night from nightmares of her past life, only to realize that she is free from the physical pain, anguish, and feelings of utter fear and horror that were part of her 11-year marriage to "Tommy," her high-school sweetheart.
"It doesn't just go away," she said. "It took everything I had in me and years of counseling to escape and cope with my low self-esteem, emotional pain, and the inability to trust another man. The bruises go away but the emotional pain is everlasting."
Her divorce from Tommy wasn't a mutual agreement or because of irreconcilable differences. It was a break away from the life where she was captive to a man who promised to love, cherish, and protect her.
Michelle remembers the first time Tommy hit her. He had always been jealous, making negative comments about her appearance, analyzing her conversations to others (especially with other men), always questioning her intentions. However, it wasn't until they were into their second year of marriage and she was pregnant with her second child that he lashed out at her physically.
"Tommy grabbed me and pulled me towards him. Screaming in my face, he threw me down a flight of stairs. The only thing I could think of as I fell was holding my belly tight so as not to injure my baby, but I had no control. Fear and gravity carried me to a place that I could have never even imagined. I was shocked and full of fear.
"He was so sorry for what he had done and I forgave him, I was convinced that I was to blame for not having the laundry folded and put away as he wanted. He told me I slipped and he didn't mean to let me fall. I owned up to my part in the situation and felt that in the future I needed to toe the line. Feeling like a child disobeying [her] parents, I tried even harder to please my husband, the man I loved and trusted with my life.
"He didn't hit or even verbally abuse me for weeks after that incident, but once he started again, it never stopped. There seem to be no reason for the abuse. Drunk or sober, happy or sad, it was my fault and he had all the answers and excuses."
The abuse went on for years, sometimes daily, sometimes with months in between incidents. "I was so ashamed that I couldn't tell anyone. Talking about it was never an option I thought I had. It was part of my life -- just like cooking dinner, laundry, and taking care of the kids. The one thing I knew in my heart was that I didn't have a choice, or so I thought at the time.
