My first marriage
This first time I was married my husband was a jerk. He was physically abusive. Two weeks before we got married (the first time he was ever abusive towards me) we were arguing and he pushed me into a dresser. The day of my wedding I had a bruise on my thigh the size of a grapefruit. I should have known that that was my first red flag!
He was a raging maniac religious hypocrite like the ones you find in the Bible belt. Shortly after we were married he started trying to control me. He tried to tell me what to wear. He didn’t want me to wear white t shirts and he did not want me to wear miniskirts (I did so anyways which sparked the flame of his fire).
He was starting to figure out he couldn’t control me so that was kind of a bummer for him. His perfect Southern Bell that would stay home and make biscuits and gravy I was not.
I once made him biscuits and gravy and when he ate them he said “these aren’t as good as my mamma makes”. I said “well than next time you want biscuits you are going to have to go over to your mom’s house’
When he would drink a glass of tea he would hold his glass out to me and say “fetch me some more tea”. I would say “Oh really, I don’t’ see anything wrong with your arms or legs. I think you can get that yourself.” This was not just an occasional request. I was supposed to serve him all of the time. But the worst part was when we would go to his mom’s house she would rush up to him and hug and kiss him and say “Do you want mama to make you some tea? Did she feed you? (Referring to me) Do you want mama to make you something?” It was pretty bad.
Right after we got married he lost his job because he was just a little whiner baby. I had to find a job and I did. Every day after he dropped me off for work he would go over to his mammas house and take a nap. (I was pregnant at the time) The doctors told me because I was pregnant I had to quit lifting such heavy stuff and not work so many hours. I told him that I needed to cut my hours down and I couldn’t lift anymore. His mother would say “But you need his paycheck. You can’t stop working. You have to have that money!” She knew full well he wasn’t working. It was just ridicules. They both got mad at me when I said “He needs to get a job.”
It was shortly after that point that we got in an argument and he kicked me in the stomach. I ended up flying back to Madison, WI were I from (this all took place in South Carolina). I got on a plane and flew back to Madison and stayed with my Dad. I went to see a doctor in Madison and they were concerned about my pregnancy because something just wasn’t right. I went in for one of my visits and the doctors couldn’t find the heartbeat. It turns out the baby had a chromosome disorder. It was a blessing because my husband was abusive and the little girl would have had to live the rest of her life being exposed to it.
The story actually gets worse.
The stillborn baby was to be delivered naturally. He felt obligated to come to Madison and be there for that but he was mad because he missed the tryouts for the Atlanta Braves. (He tried to make me feel guilty but he would have never made it on the team. I didn’t ask him to come to Madison. I left him.)
He came and was present for the delivery. He wanted to get back together with me. Me being the nice person that I am gave him the benefit of the doubt and let him stay in Madison for the month while I waited for my follow up appointment. He was of all my friends in Madison so he acted like an idiot. I ended up going back to South Carolina after the doctor said it was ok to go. (Don’t ask me what I was thinking. Some people just don’t deserve a second chance.)
I went back with him and we rented and moved into a house. We even got a little kitten. One day it was pouring rain outside and the little kitty was sick. The kitten smelled really bad one night and he wanted to through this tiny little sick kitty out in the rain. I stood between the hallways and tried to block him from throwing the kitty out. He back handed me in the face and then he pushed me down on the bed in bedroom and spit on my face!
I used every ounce of the strength I had and knee him directly in the groin. He staggered away and I ran out of the house. I hid in the bushes for about four or five hours until he left in the car. I ran inside the house and grabbed a few belongings. I ran back out to the bushes and hid again until my mom got off work. I went to my mom’s house and stayed there. He would come over looking for more and I would hide. When I went over to get more belongings his dad saw the bruises on my face and looked so ashamed. He couldn’t believe his son could be so cruel. I ended moving to Florida because my sister lived there.
Here is the clincher: about a month later he asked my Mom out! (My mom is a very attractive lady.) Isn’t that sick!