Stories of Survivors

The Courage to Say “No More”

Cheryl attended a support group for battered women and decided to tell her story. She hopes that her words will inspire others.

Domestic violence is a part of my life now; it’s something that has happened to me and I plan to be very vocal about it. A lot of times people are ashamed about this, and I understand that, but I feel good about the fact that I've survived. I want to speak out because there may be someone out there who is helped by what I have to say.

My husband and I were two young missionaries when we met. At first everything seemed normal. He paid a lot of attention to me, but I didn’t see it as being possessive. We moved to Boston and that was the beginning of my isolation. I didn’t know a soul and if I went out, he would follow me. I thought he meant well, and I didn’t want to argue with him. We were two Christian people, and I was committed to my vows and my relationship. I wanted to please my husband, as I had been taught in church.

My marriage lasted 15 years. At first there were arguments and name calling, but I didn’t think it was abuse. Everyone has some problems in their marriage. I prayed and kept things to myself.

When my husband pushed me for the first time, I was very surprised but I pushed him back and didn’t think it was a big deal. There were more incidents but I forgave him. Then I confronted him about something and he let me know that he was the man and it wasn’t my place to do that. I was on my way downstairs to do the laundry and he pushed me. He kicked me so hard, I almost fell down the stairs. It didn’t seem to matter to him that he hurt me. I jumped on him and fought him back. He had broken glass in his hand and was going for my face. I stopped fighting. My children were very scared. They were ten and four and my oldest son wanted to call the police, but I told him, “I’m going to be fine and I don’t want the police here.” I went downstairs to do the laundry, and my husband followed me with a broomstick in his hand. He said, “If you ever defy me like that again, it’s going to be another OJ case.”

After that, if I asked him something and he didn’t like the question, he would hit me. Since I was fighting back and he wasn’t beating the life out of me, I thought it was okay. We continued to go to church and to pray. I kept forgiving him and trying to make the marriage work. My life was just miserable. After years in Boston with no friends, I met a woman at my son’s school. I told her what was going on in my life; not even thinking it was domestic violence. She told me to talk to my pastor. “This is serious,” she said, “your husband is a leader in the church.” But that was why I didn’t want to say anything. Sometimes I would try to talk to people, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable, or they would say, “Well everybody has problems, but he’s a good man.” I told our pastor we were having serious problems, but my husband lied and said it was because I was having an affair with someone else. The pastor said he didn’t know who to believe (even though my son told him my husband was hitting me), and I knew that he wasn’t going to help me. During what was our final argument I thought he was going to kill me.

I called the police while my husband laughed at me. Both pastors from my church went to court with my husband, and the church lawyer represented him. It felt good to be standing up for myself. I went to church a few more times and my husband was still in a leadership position. I told the pastor I could no longer attend because I needed a lot of healing and wouldn’t be able to receive it there. I felt like an outcast and I didn’t feel safe.

After his arrest, my husband didn’t pay the mortgage for two months. We went to court, and the judge ordered him to pay. Then we went back to court because he said he was laid off from his job. Since then I’ve had to pay the mortgage and all the bills. As a woman trying to get over a bad time like this, the financial part is very difficult. I could’ve stayed with my husband just so he’d pay the mortgage, but that certainly would not have been worth it. I don’t have any regrets. I’m glad that I had the courage to stand up and to say “no more.” My mother had often suggested I go to a women’s support group, but I was afraid because my husband might follow me. But she persisted and I decided to try it. The first time I went to the group I didn’t want to speak, when it came to my turn. Nobody objected. I listened to the other women and they were voicing feelings I had never been able to express. When I was ready to talk, they were listening. That was the beginning of my recovery.

Now my husband has filed for divorce. The day I called the police I knew it might come to this, but I was ready to say “so what—so what if my husband divorces me, so what if I’m a single mother and have to live alone, so what?” I would rather be alone and happy than be miserable in an abusive relationship. I’m very grateful I can take care of my children and myself and that we will be fine. This is why I need to tell my story.