Why I Stayed

I spent ten years in an emotionally and verbally abusive marriage. Here's a small sample of the daily barrage I endured:

"As soon as I have enough money, I'm going to divorce you."

"You're not a good enough wife to be a mother."

"How fucking stupid can you be?"

"Nicole Brown Simpson got what she deserved."

"If you ever pull that [trying to leave our relationship] I'd do the same to you." (every time a news story broke about a woman assaulted or killed in a domestic violence incident.)

"You stupid cunt. You stupid fucking cunt."

"We can't have kids until you're a better wife to me."

"No one else will want ever want you."

"You're the most selfish person I know." (because I went running for 30 minutes three days a week) "If you loved me, you'd spend that time helping me, not doing something for yourself."

"Wake up -- I can't get to sleep. I need sex." I had to get up for work sometimes as early as 4:30 a.m. But if it was midnight and he couldn't sleep, it was my job to take care of that.

"I'm so smart, you don't ever stand a chance against me in court."

"Why can't you keep the house clean like my mother?" (She only worked one job and her mother was essentially her daily maid -- did the laundry, did the dishes, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom, and made dinner. I worked one full time job getting a paycheck and a second full time job as free labor helping him run his business. He was in the house all day, but was incapable of washing his breakfast and lunch dishes if I didn't empty the dish drainer before I left for work.)

Anything -- anything -- that went wrong was my fault. If he stubbed his toe, he'd find a reason why I was responsible. "If you didn't make me so angry, I would have seen that chair in the middle of the room."

And when I finally got sick of the put-downs and verbally stood up for myself, "You're making me so angry! I don't know what I'm going to do to you if you don't shut up!" With eyes cutting through me with a maniacal viciousness that's impossible to describe, and his hands clenched into fists.

All the usual isolating, money controlling tactics. The more broken down our cars, the better, because that prevented me from traveling to see my family. Threatening to harm my cat. Showing me photos that women from all around the country sent him of them nude or semi-nude. Having another mutual friend give me a book about infertility for my birthday. As a joke. Or at least he told her it would be funny. It wasn't.  Offering to be a sperm donor to a couple who were having trouble conceiving. He'd be a father to a near-stranger's child, but I wasn't good enough. Laughing off my objections to his put-downs as me not being able to take a joke.

So, why did I stay? This all started two months into our marriage, when he declared I'd been such a slut in my relationships before him, that he no longer wanted to have children. I should have walked that day, but….

• I thought he'd get over it. And the embarrassment of a two-month marriage. He'd get over it.
• I thought if only I tried a little harder, things would be better.
• I don't fail. I could make this work. 
• He never hit me. That was my line in the sand. I now know that line should have been at "You're such a slut, you don't deserve to have children." Verbal and emotional abuse and controlling behavior takes away your life, piece by piece.
• Being controlled by a strict, authoritarian male was what I knew. I was never taught how to say, "I don't like this," or "What you are doing is wrong." The one time I did, I was told that the police would take us all away and we'd be split up and I'd never see my siblings again.
• Seriously, if I tried just a little harder. Next time don't misplace the car keys/flush the toilet during the night/know instinctively where he wants that box placed at his trade show.
• The "we can have kids when you're a better wife" was constantly dangled in front of me. I honestly believed that if I left, I had zero chance of having children, so the "if I can only be better" seemed like better odds than zero. It was actually less than zero. 
• We went to marriage counseling. He berated the marriage counselor the same way he did me. It was all head games with him. Verbal sparring. To prove his higher intelligence. She saw us every week for months. She finally told me there was nothing she could do to help me. 
• We went to another marriage counselor. Our counseling sessions consisted of the two of them arguing psychology theory. For which I paid $20 per hour. By then I'd educated myself on verbal/emotional abuse. I finally made an appointment to go in by myself to let the counselor know that the relationship was abusive. His response: "If I thought you were in danger, I'd bring the two of you in here together to discuss that."
• I needed to find a safe place for my cat.
• He threatened suicide if I left. By that point I was willing to let the chips fall wherever they may. But a mutual friend -- horrified at the idea -- talked me into staying. 
• Let's go back to the "Nicole Brown Simpson got what she deserved" quote. Which I heard frequently.
• We lived in a no no-fault state for divorce. To leave him was going to mean proving cruel and inhuman treatment. He never hit me. I had no marks, no bruises, no hospital records. And who wants to have to sue for divorce the person who repeatedly says, "Nicole Brown Simpson got what she deserved"?
• And the biggest reason? No one named it. He got to the point where he didn't need to keep his abuse hidden, because no one ever called him out on it. No one ever spoke up. He could scream in front of friends at the top of his lungs, with his eyes cutting through me with a maniacal viciousness that's impossible to describe, and no one said anything. Either then or later in private. Both our families witnessed his cutting remarks to me, but again, no one said anything. The marriage counselors saw his behavior and heard my descriptions of his behavior and not one single one of them said anything. So I thought his behavior wasn't bad enough to merit leaving. I had no validation that what I was experiencing wasn't right. 

Until I finally left, and the phone rang off the hook with people expressing their relief that I was finally out. They saw. They knew. They stayed silent. My best guess is that they didn't know how to help. Or didn't want to meddle. 

I'm here to say, "Meddle." 

Here's how to help: If you see someone who is in a relationship that appears abusive, speak up. Your mere validation of the situation may save someone's life. 

And consider going a step or two beyond that. Offer the phone number of your local battered women's shelter. Or ask the person to come with you to a presentation about domestic abuse. Give her a book about domestic abuse. 

Name the behavior. Do anything but stay quiet. 

Because silence is an abuser's best friend.