Protecting the Abused

{Warning: Please be aware that this post contains disturbing accounts of abuse, which may be triggering for some readers.}

The past week has been filled with lots of reflection and processing, as anniversaries have a way of bringing that out. This wasn’t a happy anniversary, but one that brought immense life change and devastation. I have chosen to share my journey - although difficult - for two reasons: 1) if there’s any chance it may help someone else and 2) to bring glory to God. I only share when I feel led and only what God puts on my heart.

And oh, has God put a lot on my heart. Calvin and I spoke this morning, where I shared some things with him that left me in tears. Please know, I consider this matter important, even though it's highly sensitive.

Although I have spent the past four years in counseling - individually, with my husband Calvin, and with my children - in many ways, the healing is just beginning. You see, to heal from something you must face it head on. Shoving it under the rug, pretending it didn’t happen, or not speaking about it is avoidance. I have spoken in the best way I know how about the abuse I experienced as a child and as an adult. Truly, it was most of my life. But I believe there is more to be unpacked.

I made a post on my stories earlier in the week speaking on how grateful I am to my husband, Calvin, for loving me the way he does. It read, “This guy. He loves me more than I ever could have dreamed. In fact, there are a lot of days I don’t believe it. You see, it’s the exact opposite of what was and I still struggle to trust. I’d have thought it would be easier to receive love, but I often fight it. And yet he gently and patiently waits, reminds, and assures me. There’s many a day I feel broken. I’m thankful that he’s by my side, each step of the way.”

The key thing I have wrestled with my whole life is “There is something wrong with me” and “I am broken.” I knew remarrying would come with its challenges and that I didn’t know what I didn’t know - meaning, I knew things would come up, but didn’t know what those things would be. I understood there would be triggers, but I couldn’t face those triggers on my own. It would only come through being in another relationship. I was 100% up front concerning my “brokenness” and “baggage.” It’s why I felt that I was a big ask. Asking someone to take on all of me felt like too much.

I realized something this week that I know is crucial in continued healing. Although I have been very open regarding the fact that abuse happened, I have never said most of it aloud. I have given some broad details, but it mostly has landed as,

“I was abused as a child by a family member.”

“I lived in an abusive marriage for 16 years.”

Yes, but what does that mean? And why is talking about it important?

First, the “what.”

I am honestly not sure when it began. From my earliest memories, I remember being afraid of being at this person’s home. I have reasons to believe it began at a young age and some of these memories have been blocked/repressed. I remember feeling uncomfortable around him and it didn’t help that it was someone I was around frequently. I believe everyone else saw the opposite - that I really loved him. I remember hearing jokes that I was “the favorite,” but trust me, I didn’t want to be the favorite. He would make me sit in his lap, way beyond an appropriate age. I remember thinking if I ran past him, he couldn’t pull me over. But he would reach out and grab me anyway, pulling me into his chair. And there were times he was aroused. He would kiss me inappropriately. Where a possible peck on the cheek may have been considered normal, this was on the lips, for way too long, and occasionally with his tongue. He would touch me inappropriately, sometimes coming into my room while I was in bed. He would come up behind me and put his hands on my chest, groping me. And he did many of these things with people nearby or in the next room. Imagine how confusing this would be. You see, that’s what abuse often is. It starts off subtle. You question, “Did that really just happen?” “Would he really do that?” “Was it really that big of a deal?” He would act completely normal around me after, but would often try to make up for it by giving me special treats or making my favorite foods. It continued to progress further.

I remember him coming to wake me one morning and after feeling me up, left the room. I didn’t want to come out. I was so angry, confused, and hurt. When I finally did come out, I was asked by him, “Do you want your eggs scrambled or runny?”

What?!?

Did he ever rape me? No. Was any of this appropriate? Absolutely not. This went on throughout the entirety of my childhood.

That’s just the thing - I was a child. This was someone that was supposed to love me. This was not love. I didn’t have the vocabulary to understand what it was. This instilled shame into the core of my being. I believed it was my fault, there was something wrong with me, and there was absolutely no way I could speak a word of it to anyone.

So I didn’t.

Not until I went to college. I was a thousand miles away and began to process what had happened. I finally opened up to some friends - vaguely, with zero details - and was encouraged to tell my family. And so I did.

Of course, my parents were horrified. There ended up being a confrontation, to which he denied any wrongdoing. “It wasn’t what I thought it was.” Nevertheless, he was told to apologize to me.

I received a phone call one day at college, “I’m sorry if you think I did something to you…”

There was zero ownership or repentance. And I was left feeling guilty for causing a big problem by bringing it up. It brought strain and damage to relationships within the family.

Meanwhile, up until this point in my life, I had yet to be in a relationship. Did I desire it? Absolutely. I longed to have a boyfriend, to feel loved, to feel accepted. It was crushing to watch all my friends go on dates, have boyfriends, get asked to prom, and constantly be left out. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I had crushes on many people, but no one ever seemed to like me back. Or so I thought.

In hindsight, I’m not so sure that was the case. I was also completely oblivious and naive. As much as I wanted a relationship, I was also terrified - not to mention, painfully shy. Someone could have told me to my face that they liked me and I probably wouldn’t have received it.

Until one day someone did pursue me. He asked me out and I said, “no.” He persisted. He finally persuaded me, “I’m not asking to marry you, I just want to take you on a date.” For some reason, he persevered through my hour of silence, waiting for me to respond. (I’m not kidding. It was really that long.)

I caved.

And I loved the way it felt because I had never felt that way before. I felt special and desired. Finally, I was “worth it” to someone.

But things quickly changed. Before long, he was pressuring me to be physical with him. It was a big deal that we had been dating for a month and hadn’t kissed. He began to make me feel bad about it and I was told that I was a prude. If I loved him, I would kiss him. Eventually, we did kiss and he began forcing physical things on me. It didn’t matter that I said, “no.” If I loved him, I would comply. Somehow the talk of getting married quickly progressed. He quoted scripture at me - if you cannot control yourselves, you should marry as “it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” He had somehow convinced me that I was “the one” and we needed to get married, fast.

But I was on my way to Thailand for the summer, so we would spend it apart. He took me out on our last night together. He told me to get dressed up and that we were going to a fancy dinner. When we got there he said, “If you think I’m proposing, I’m not." It seemed like something had changed.

I saw a whole other side of him while I was in Thailand. I was there for a three-month mission trip, while he was home in San Diego. He would call only to yell and scream at me. I wasn’t giving him enough time. He was mad that he would spend hours trying to make a phone call and I wouldn’t be at the house to answer. I didn’t care enough about the relationship. So, while my whole team would go to lunch together, I would wait at the house for him to call, only for him to yell at me more. He would apologize that he was just having a hard time being away from me and missed me. He just wanted to marry me. One day I received a call that would change everything. “I called and had both our names removed from student housing. We can get married when you come back. I already found an apartment.”

I know this sounds crazy. I look back and don’t know how any of it happened. Everyone was under the impression that it was a fairy tale romance, and that I had been swept off my feet. Parts of it felt romantic. But also, I didn’t know what to do or how to get out of it. That same powerless part of me that could never speak up as a child, didn’t know how to speak up now. So my wedding was planned while I was in Thailand. I would return and be married two weeks after.

When I arrived back in the States, I flew straight to San Diego. He expected that since we were getting married that I would suddenly have sex with him. I wouldn’t. He was so angry with me. I also didn’t measure up to his expectations and he began nitpicking what I looked like and what I wore. It wasn’t good enough around his family. He would ask, “Is that what you’re wearing?” and insisted to take me shopping. He commented in front of me to his brother, “Doesn’t she look better?” I truly didn’t know how to make sense of it all.

After a week I flew back to Texas. I remember panicking. What was I going to do? How could I get out of this? The night before we were married, he dragged me into the bathroom, pushed me to my knees, and forced himself into my mouth. He told me it was my job and if I couldn’t please him, what could he expect in marriage? My bridesmaids were a wall away. I just cried, feeling humiliated and alone.

On the day of our wedding, I remember going to the salon and getting my hair done. It should have been the happiest day of my life and yet I felt like I was in a bad dream that I couldn’t wake up from. Surely this wasn’t happening. I watched my wedding tape back once and saw how miserable I looked. I’m not sure I smiled at all. I remember when we were lighting the candle he told me, “Pretend like you’re wiping a tear from my eye. It’ll make for a good picture.” I obliged.

After the wedding, we took a limo ride to Dallas, which was about a two-hour drive. After all his expectations of me from before we were married, I was sure he had expectations. But, he fell asleep.

When we met he had told me he was a virgin. I could tell he was not, as he seemed way more experienced. And he was nothing but controlling, demanding, and impatient. I remember crying and thinking, “This cannot be what this is. This cannot be right.”

And of course, it wasn’t. He immediately began cheating on me and it was my fault that he cheated. He would leave me alone in our apartment with no cell phone and no knowledge of his whereabouts. I dare not ask where he was and I was unreasonable to be uncomfortable with him being out til the middle of the night. I would find videotapes of him having sex with other women. (I’ve seen more videos than I can count.) He rejected me completely. I was so confused. It felt like a game. Over time, of course, I wanted nothing to do with him. And then suddenly he did want me - and he would take what he wanted. It didn’t matter if I said no.

He would tell lies about me to people and blame me for everything. He was rarely home, would spend our money on other women, vacations, gifts, and hotels, but would expect me to show up and smile at everything. All the while, he would still preach at me. I was supposed to “forgive him.” He would gaslight me constantly, making me feel like a crazy person. There were times he would wake me to yell at me and often corner me in a room, lashing out. I would cry and wait for him to leave me alone.

Maybe you can imagine the effect this has on a person. I was barely holding it together. In the meantime, there were all these expectations and even judgments from some of his family members. I was told once that “it was my duty to have sex 3 to 4 times per week and if my husband strayed, it was my fault.” I missed a function once and was met the next day by another family member with a fake hug and a smile while whispering angrily in my ear, “I am so mad at you. You show up. I don’t care what happened.” I was also told that there was no way I could have a right relationship with God and have the body image that I did. I was struggling to eat and ended up with an eating disorder over the rejection and abuse. Because he seemed to want everyone but me, I felt as though I were not good enough. One of the most hurtful comments I ever received was, “you keep popping out kids into a bad marriage.”

Yeah, okay.

We all know how everything ended. After sixteen years of stories that are too numerous to tell, he was arrested. To my shock and horror, he had abused countless other women. He wasn’t just unfaithful, he was a sexual predator and rapist.

The last time I saw my childhood abuser was at my baby shower while pregnant with my oldest son. I had traveled home to Texas and he was there. He sat next to me with a clenched jaw and under his breath, mocked me. “Is it okay if I sit here? I wouldn’t want to hurt you or anything.”

I never spoke to him again. I decided that I couldn’t put my children in that position. They wouldn’t be around him. Granted, this wasn’t a popular or welcome decision with some other family members. Again, to others, I was causing a problem.

In the end, it felt like I lost both families. Mine, and then his. I'm grateful some still supported me.

So why? Why talk about this?

Because someone has to speak up. Someone has to protect the abused and not the abusers. People often don’t want to deal with it because they can’t believe it, don’t want to believe it, or it isn’t comfortable. Friends, we aren’t called to be comfortable.

There are abusers everywhere. We work with them, go to school with them, and yes, you’ll even find them in church. They may be leaders - teachers, principals, deacons, elders, pastors, executives. Or not. Abusers come from all walks of life. Abuse takes many shapes and forms, not just physical. It can include sexual, emotional, verbal, psychological, spiritual, and more.

Why don’t people want to speak up? Because they aren’t believed or feel like they have to protect, whether it’s the abuser or the family it would impact. There are too many repercussions. No, I didn’t speak up soon enough with my childhood abuser. But when I did, it wasn’t popular. With my ex-husband, I reached out countless times to people that I thought would help me. But he was only ever protected and his actions excused. And there are people that still defend, protect and justify his actions to this day. He, as well, defends his actions. He claims everything was consensual, and therefore okay.

I found out after the fact that there were many family members and friends that were well aware of his infidelities. Apparently, it was a well-known fact.

I realize it’s uncomfortable to say something. But if not you, then who?

Another element that’s factored into all of this is my faith. Having grown up in the church, I have been taught my whole life about forgiveness. While yes, the Bible teaches us to pray for our enemies and forgive as we have been forgiven, but many churches fail to teach how to deal with abuse, divorce, about boundaries, and what forgiveness is and what it isn’t. These were things I needed to know that may have completely changed how I responded to the situations I was in. We need a whole theology, not a partial theology. I can’t tell you how often I thought to myself, “I’m just supposed to forgive,” because that is what I was taught.

Yes, we are called to forgiveness. We are called to have mercy. Paul says in Ephesians 4:32,

"Forgive each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you."

What does God require for forgiveness? What is Biblical forgiveness?

John the Baptist proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Luke 3:3

Jesus said, “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” Luke 13:3 and

1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for every sin ever committed - and forgiveness is available to every person. God longs for all to come to Him. 2 Peter 3:9 says, “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.”

But sin is only forgiven when it is confessed and repented of.

In His book, “Unpacking Forgiveness,” Chris Brauns gives the following definitions of forgiveness,

“God’s forgiveness: A commitment by the one true God to pardon graciously those who repent and believe so that they are reconciled to Him, although this commitment does not eliminate all consequences.

General human forgiveness: A commitment by the offended to pardon graciously the repentant from moral liability and to be reconciled to that person, although not all consequences are necessarily eliminated.”

Just as Jesus’s forgiveness is readily available, so should we be willing and ready to forgive the offender. Biblically, forgiveness is not just something that is offered, but something that is received. It is a transaction between two people that brings reconciliation.

An article I found said it this way, “we must be willing to forgive others—if we aren’t willing to forgive, we refuse to allow others to enjoy what God has blessed us with. Modern pop psychology has wrongly taught that “forgiveness” is one-sided, that reconciliation is unnecessary, and that the purpose of this unilateral forgiveness is to free the offended person of feelings of bitterness.”

Is it important to work through our pain and release any hostility and bitterness? Absolutely. “In Scripture, however, feelings-based forgiveness remains incomplete. Scripture shows us a consistent, important pattern of how forgiveness is triggered through repentance.”

Boundaries are also okay and God ordained. God established boundaries in the garden. When a boundary was broken, there was a consequence - because there are consequences to sin.

If someone is abused, it is okay and healthy to create boundaries. It isn’t about punishing the abuser but protecting the abused. Whatever safeguards a person needs to set in place is okay. The victim should never be shamed or blamed for bringing “hardship” to the abuser's life or for the consequences that the abuser caused.

Forgiveness doesn’t equal full access. If there is true repentance and forgiveness, trust and restoration will and must take time.

The Bible doesn’t explicitly speak on abuse. But we are commanded to love as Christ loves (John 15:12-13), we are told what marriage should look like (1 Peter 3:1-7), we are told what love looks like (1 Corinthians 13), and we know that God cares a great deal about the oppressed and will ultimately bring justice to the oppressed (Psalm 9:9, Isaiah 1:17, Psalm 34:18, Luke 4:18-19, Zechariah 7:9-10, Jeremiah 5:25-29.) Oppressed means “burdened by abuse of power or authority” and “being heavily burdened, mentally or physically, by troubles, adverse conditions, anxiety.”

Abuse is not love. God would not have us remain in abusive situations and we should help those that are. Proverbs 31:8-9 says, “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

It’s time to stop turning a blind eye. If we see something, know something, or suspect something - we must act. Even if the abuser is your friend, your son, your brother, your sister, or your child. Even if it feels impossible. We must protect the defenseless, because what if the abused was your daughter, your sister, or your neighbor? It very well could be.

Something has to change. This is just my story. There are millions of others out there.

Thankfully, my abuse ended. The repercussions follow me and some things are a daily struggle and fight to hold onto truth. But by the grace of God, He has created new, redeemed, and worked it all for good. Not every case ends that way.

Who are we protecting?

*1 in 5 male children, and 1 in 3 female children will be sexually assaulted before they reach adulthood

* On average, nearly 20 people per minute are physically abused by an intimate partner in the United States.