Written by: Courtney, Survivor
First off, I apologize because I am not very good with words, but I want to get my story out there. Hopefully, it can help other women, so here it goes!
About four years ago I met my ex-husband. I thought he was charming, cute, and smart. He always said sweet things. I would say after about six months of us being together, we decided to get married. Mind you, in those six months, he cheated about four times. I ignored the signs because I thought I could be the one to change him.
So, in February 2013, we got married in a courthouse. The only family from my side that showed up were my sister and her husband. My family did not want any part of it. And, again I ignored the signs. The day we got married, he actually cheated on me. I remember I was so heartbroken because he was gone all night.
As time went on cheating became a regular occurrence, and physical abuse came into play. I would say that by the time we were in our first year of marriage, I was being strangled until I passed out, punched, and kicked. He even went so far as to pouring trash on my head and rubbing dog feces in my face. I could remember one time he hit me on top of my head with a gun and blood poured down my face; he stood there with a gun pointed toward me telling me he wished I would die.
I remember feeling worthless, asking myself what I did how can I make this better. But in reality, there was no making it better. I have lost jobs for coming to work with my face literally swollen from being beaten. I actually lost my children, friends, and family but still thought if I could show him that I loved him that he would do better and everything would be ok.
I literally left and came back to him numerous times – so many times I lost count. Finally, one night he locked me in the closet and was beating me with a hammer all over my body. I remember crying and asking God to just please kill me, pleading and asking why this was happening to me.
The next day I went to church, and, of course, my face was beaten up. I remember feeling embarrassed, like I was two feet tall. The speaker that day came up to me and said, “God hears you crying at night, and he wants you to step aside and let him fight this battle.” I broke down …
The next day I left, and I never went back. I never thought I was strong enough to leave, but I actually did. Here it is about three years later, and I have a good relationship with my children, family, and friends.
I do still deal with nightmares and apologize about everything. Every day I look in the mirror, the scars he left me remind me how strong I really am and that I came a very long way. I really do hope this story helps somebody out!
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