I felt that FEAR, but I also felt comfort and understood I had safety because I was going home where my parents were. For a little moment, I imagined there was a means out of this complete short life and marriage I got myself into.
This was nearly the end of this marriage. #1 made one final endeavor by coming to my parent’s home. We saw him pull up in my parent’s driveway, and I said I’ll advise him I’m calling the cops if he doesn’t depart.
I opened the front door starring at his expressionless face as he hurried towards me. Before I could assert anything, he immediately punched me in my nose. Then within seconds, I gazed at my dad lunge out the front door, pouncing on #1. They rumbled and hit each other on the front lawn. I could hear my dad shouting, “you mother fucker! You think you can show up to my home and mistreat my daughter”….. I was in a trance, not comprehending what to do. I exclaimed we are calling the cops! He fled quickly. I went to the hospital, and my nose was broken. I had instant, significant amount of bruising around my eyes for weeks.
I met up with #1 one last time. I paid attention to him plead with me to come back etc.….I told him what he expected to hear to prevent any physical abuse from him. I ad-lib an alibi to go home to my parents, where I lived with Rachel.
I never looked back! At that precise moment I felt nothing for him, did not need “US” ever again, I was finished.
In between the three husbands, I resumed searching for someone to love me. I scoured for my soul. I struggled to understand all I’ve survived through up to this point.
I was part of the hardship; I didn’t recognize this then. It’s like the meaning, “ you are who you hang out with.”