threats, fear, FREEDOM.

History to Herstory

I met the Lt. at Michigan State in 2004. He was beautiful; quiet; and kind. At some point a few months later I told one of my roomates that I was going to marry that man. I don’t remember making this comment – but she told me about it at our wedding.

We dated about 4 years and talks of breaking-up surfaced only once that I remember. He had recently started TBS (The Basic School) in Quantico and I went to visit. It was Valentine’s day weekend. He told me he didn’t think he would ever want to be married. I asked him what we were doing then. There was no yelling – or finger-pointing. Just two heartbroken people realizing we were in different boats that were traveling in different directions.

He changed his mind a few months later – I didn’t initially believe him. But then a letter arrived – we regularly sent letters to each other when apart – it was heartbreaking and beautiful. I saved it in a plastic sheet for our future children to read. I would read it many times during the years that followed – especially during the deployments. I don’t remember much now except one line. I’m not even sure if the beginning of it is completely accurate… but the second half is seared in my brain word for word. He said:

We are worth the pain, and hurt, and sacrifice...

…because on the other side of this, there is a lot of good and happiness. I know it.

That one sentence brought me all the comfort I needed. We were indestructible. We would get through anything that the USMC, or life, or family threw at us. He was in this with me. I knew it. Lt. proposed in July and I put in notice with my job. We got married in October and a few days later drove a UHaul across the country to California. We had no place to live but that was alright. We liked adventures – and we had many of them. Hell, we even got matching tattoos just before his first deployment.

It wasn’t until I saw the text messages to “Marcus” in 2014 that I realized how wrong I was. My best friend had discreetly and intentionally brought pain and hurt into our house. He was willing to sacrifice our marriage for his comfort. We were not in this together at all. Cue divorce 1. We filed about a month after I turned 30 and it was finalized 1 week before what would have been our 5th wedding anniversary.

But I don’t give up that quick. I had loved being married. I was a better person. I was angry and heartbroken – on a deeper level than I could possibly imagine; but I rationalized it all away. There was no reason to be sad because the whole thing was a lie. There was no reason to be mad because I couldn’t change anything. I changed states again – new slate I told myself. Welcome to Act II: Terrible rebound relationship that is the exact opposite of what I just came from because I really wanted a family and my ovaries were dying and as long as there wasn’t cheating I was sure I could make it work.

I entered the dating scene after a decade of technology upgrades and had no idea what I was doing. Batman was maybe the 3rd person I met online in the fall of 2014. He had a hell of a body and unlike the Lt. he was incredibly attentive. He also had insecurities around loyalty – but I understood those and did everything I could to show I was someone who could be trusted. He proposed that same year. Clear Red Flag looking back – but in the words of Vonnegut – so it goes.

I said no. He proposed again in early spring of 2015 and this time I gave a reluctant yes with the caveat of a long engagement. I can’t remember how many times he talked about breaking up between the first proposal and our eventual marriage – it was a lot – but I couldn’t see the manipulation for what it was yet. He was always smart about the way he controlled my responses. He would never threaten me directly. He knew that if I heard this:

“If you don’t marry me in June, I’m going to move out and you’ll never see me again.”

I’d be out. I don’t do ultimatums. I literally do not care. You do you. Instead, he would target my very being – my integrity – my word. All of the things that I cherished about myself.

“You’ve already said you’d marry me. What difference does it make if we are married this June or next June since the outcome is the same. Wanting to wait is just another obvious sign that you don’t love me. I know that you are just waiting so that you can change your mind and break-up with me later.”

He was right. I did make a promise. Someone *cough* Lt. *cough* had made me a promise and had broken it – I was better than that. I would honor my commitments – regardless of the sacrifice, pain, or hurt to myself – because that is what you are supposed to do for others you care about. He knew that – and I was married again in June of 2015.

I would continue to cave on almost everything over the next few years to appease him and avoid conflict. It was a slow and deliberate dismantling of my freedom. The few things that were mine, that he couldn’t control – my job, my integrity, my reputation, my past, my financial independence – those became my anchors. I held to them tight and allowed myself to drown with them as they were attacked.

Divorce was the first easy threat – it was a hit to my reputation and past:

What kind of person fails twice at marriage? Your first husband must have cheated because you are spoiled and selfish and only think about yourself. I guess I’ll just have to call your family and tell them about all the problems we are having. I’m not going to go to that thing you already RSVP’d me for anymore because I don’t like how you’re treating me.

After awhile I stopped caring about my reputation or a second divorce – so the threats had to target something new. This time my financial independence and career choice:

My dad has the best divorce lawyers in town. I’ll make sure that I take half of the equity in the house. You’ll have to pay me alimony. If you do anything to try to stop me I’ll drag this out for years. I’ll make sure you lose everything. You are already overpaid. You are never going to make more than you do right now. You’ll have to ask your parents for money.

But the very worst – and the ones that worked the best for him – were always the appeals to my empathy:

I can’t do this without you, I know I’m a terrible person. I’m working on it with my counselor but I need your help. If you would only give me another chance I know I can be the man that you deserve. I want to have a real marriage where we don’t fight all the time. I want to build a family with you. You would be the most amazing mother. Just help me get through this – I am trying. I’m so unhappy all the time. I feel like you don’t love me and no one cares about me.

I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for what I did. It won’t happen again…. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for what I did. It won’t happen again… I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for what I did. It won’t happen again…

It would be a long and lonely road to realize that this time, Lt.’s quote was actually right – but it didn’t apply to relationships – only individuals. There will never be a WE in getting to the otherside of pain and hurt. It must be done intentionally and individually. Within the context of a relationship there are healthy ways to support one another through suffering – but the work itself must be done alone.

When Batman realized there was nothing left to manipulate my actions with, he finally followed through with the divorce he had threatened for 2 years. He did hire a lawyer. He walked away with a lot of my money and almost 3 years of my life. But – as of March 2018 – I was free.

Relief came quickly. Happiness was slower – and cultivating peace is an ongoing process – but all of those things I was afraid of? The anchors I didn’t want to let go of? The pieces of me I thought I’d lose are still there but stronger. If there are people talking about me behind my back – they can stay behind me. And karma, if you believe in that sort of thing, felt like it was coming my way in spades; building up my confidence that I had done the right thing.

Within 6 months I was going on dates for fun with ZERO intentions other than resetting my own boundaries. I danced at a Taco Festival in San Diego to an 80s cover band. I was a more engaged coach for my cheer athletes. I trained 75 entrepreneurs at a company conference. I drank wine on bar rooftops with colleagues I love. I slept in the dirt at Yosemite under the stars. I hiked 22 miles to summit Mount Whitney. I mowed the lawn. I painted my house. I represented my company in Phoenix at a conference and karaoked with strangers. I interviewed for a new job. I got the offer – at close to double my salary, in a new state where the sun would shine year round.

I put the house for sale and was able to get my down payment out of it. I gave away everything that didn’t fit into my parent’s van or my jeep. And as I drove west I had a sudden urge to unblock Batman and send a “Look at Me Now Bitch” type of update text.