I believe that in any type of abuse there is a victim as well as a perpetrator.
Emotional abuse is unique in that it takes place over time, as I mentioned before.
These leads to a confusing situation where the victim at some point recognizes what is being done to him/her. It doesn't take long to know that what is being said to you is "not ok." I knew after the first night my husband raged at me that it was "not ok" that he treat me that way. But I didn't know exactly what it was, what caused it, when/if it would happen again, or what to do about it.
So I let it happen again.
I believed him when he said he would change. I trusted that he would never physically hurt me, as he promised. I hoped against all hope that this night would be the last. But it continued. And I let it.
This is so hard to describe, and I worry about people who have been abused finding offense here. I also worry about people who haven't been abused not being able to understand that point I'm trying to make. Again just trusting the Lord with this.
I let myself be emotionally abused. My pride does not want to admit that. But it's true.
But why? Why would I allow that to continue?
Because I didn't know any better. Because I thought it would stop. Because I literally did not once consider divorce in my mind, until he brought it up one night after our neighbor called the cops on him. Even still, I was not going to walk away. I told him over and over again that I meant it when I said "I do." I meant forever. We would work it out.
Before I made the choice to move out I remember talking to my pastor at church just begging him for help. I had run out of ideas. I had tried all I could possibly think to try to be a better wife, to be more understanding, to be healthier for myself, to show him my love better...I was in counseling, being mentored, in a bible study, reading books on marriage and being a good wife, etc etc. Tried to set boundaries with him, new tactics so we wouldn't fight as we had been, etc. Eventually my pastor said this:
"Nicole, this will go on as long as you let it."
That statement shook me to my core. I'm grateful for where my heart was when I heard it - completely desperate for change, knowing that I literally could not survive much longer if things continued as they were. I was so depressed, sick, tired, hopeless, and losing myself more and more each day. I couldn't let it go on any longer.
It wasn't good for me or for him. It was not God-honoring to let myself be trapped, enslaved to fear.
There are situations in which the abuser recognizes what they are doing, and does actually take steps toward change. In this case, someone might choose to stay, seeing the hope for a different outcome.
This was not my situation. I wanted it to be...but it wasn't. He was no more ready to change than to admit he had done me any wrong. I wish it had been different. Once I moved out and was out from under the cloud of confusion that abuse puts you in it became very clear to me that I could not go back unless things changed. But they didn't. He wasn't ready to face it. And he made that abundantly clear. So we separated.
For freedom.
Freedom that everyone deserves.
Deep down we know we deserve this freedom. We can feel the ache for it inside us. But it can so easily become covered with hurtful words, uncertainties, insecurities, and other priorities. Is it more important to save your marriage even if it means losing yourself? For a while I thought it was.
But now I don't think so. At least it wasn't in my case. God has more for me than living in fear and under abuse. I'm confident of that.
It is my most fervent prayer that others living in abusive situations would also be confident of that. That they deserve to be treated with respect. To be valued for who they are, not who someone says they aren't. That they would not let someone treat them this way for a second longer.
That they would find freedom.
