Love After Abuse

In high school I was raped by my boyfriend. When I finally had the nerve to dump him, I easily trusted another boy with my heart. We broke up because of my mom and I began to date a young man from my church. He wanted to be a youth pastor.

He was a charmer. Everybody loved and trusted him. He was hired as a youth pastor and an administrator at a Christian school. He was the “perfect” man. He had charisma, he was a great speaker, he knew how to talk to people and make them feel comfortable in any situation. If someone was upset, he knew how to make them feel better. He was trusted with kids by church staff, school staff and parents.

I saw some of who he really was, beneath the facade, but only some. He ended up being much worse than even I was aware of. He was hiding a monster beneath his smooth exterior.

He started out building me up, telling me how pretty and smart I was and what a strong Christian I was. He used 1 Corinthians 13, the “Love Chapter” in the Bible, to explain his love for me. I had a broken heart and he seemed capable of putting it back together. I gave it to him. I trusted him.

We dated for a long time and over that time he began to change towards me. He was the same with everyone else, so I thought it was me that caused the change.

I thought it was my fault that he started to make comments about how I looked.

I thought it was my fault that he reprimanded me about the way I talked with my friends or at work.

I thought it was my fault that he didn’t like my friends or want me to hang out with them.

Instead of seeing his mistreatment of me as his problem, I believed it was mine. I believed that if I could just act right, talk right, work right, be right, he would go back to treating me right.

Then he asked me to marry him. If we were married, he’d have to treat me right, right?

So wrong. Things got worse. He didn’t support me getting a college degree. He told me he regretted marrying me. By the end of the marriage we were no more than roommates who never spoke to each other.

He got arrested for the double life he was leading. Everyone who knew him, including me, were absolutely shocked. I knew he was not who he pretended to be, but not just how evil and twisted he truly was.

I was devastated. I swore I’d never love again. How could I ever trust anyone again? How could I trust myself to pick a good guy? Two of the three loves of my young life abused me, that’s not a great track record for my choice in boys.

I learned a lot about love in the midst of my devastation. I learned that the two boys who abused me, one sexually and the other emotionally, didn’t love me. They loved the idea of me and what I provided for them. I was an object to them to be used as they desired.

I learned that I badly wanted  to be loved that I dealt with the abuse.

I learned that I needed to stop looking for somebody else to love me and love myself.

I learned that I was valuable and worth being loved by others.

I learned that I was lovable.

I learned that I didn’t need anybody else to love me in order to survive, I only needed to love myself.

In learning to live myself, I also learned to trust myself.

I learned to take care of myself.

I learned what I enjoyed and what I wanted in life.

I met a man. He looked just like Owen Wilson. He was nice. He was quiet.

It took him a month to ask me out in a date.

I was cautious. I talked to my trusted friends and counselor about him. About love after abuse.

I fell in love with him, but I moved to San Diego. I wasn’t going to let a man keep me from my plans, my dreams like I had in the past.

Four and half months after our first date he asked me to marry him. I said yes. I transferred to a college closer to home to be near him, but I kept pursuing my dream. He supported and encouraged my dream.

We’ve been married for seventeen years now and have two kids. It’s not always easy, marriage is hard work, but I love him and he loves me.

In 1999, I never thought I’d live again, but I’ve spent the past seventeen years loving and being loved right back.

Love after abuse is possible.