The First Time I Said NO to Abuse

I will never forget the first time I stood up for myself – the first time I said NO to the abuse from my husband, out loud, face to face. Every prior resistance action was done silently, sneakily. I never used my voice.

My life, my memories are clearly divided in my head as “before my Ex” and “after my Ex”. The first time I said no to him marks that mental divide of before and after. Not that there will ever be a true “after”. The sadness in me hangs around – whether buried deep or just pushed to the background a little. I hate obsessing over the past, not letting it all go, fixating on the pain. Yet that is where I am at. My friend reminds me everyone has shadows, EVERYONE.

crazy, crazy mind tricks

I guess that title is somewhat misleading. The truth is, this post is actually not about the FIRST time I said NO to him. Rather, it is about the first time I TRIED AGAIN after 9 years of silence. In the beginning of our relationship I did use my voice…and my body…to say NO. But after consistently being ignored as if I had made no attempt at all, my boundaries had disappeared. Something inside of me subconsciously learned that if I stopped saying NO, then it was easier for my mind to deal with the abuse.

Not much logic is in this I realize, but giving up saying NO allowed my mind to pretend what was happening – especially when it related to sex – was somehow consensual. If I do NOT say NO then my needs are NOT being ignored. If I say NO and I am ignored and assaulted anyway, then it is much harder for my mind to function. My child needed her mother. I had to function. I did not realize at the time that my mind was rationalizing in this way, but now I can better understand the tricks my mind played to protect me.

separation attempts

My depression and suicidal thoughts consumed me and within a month he actually relented to the separation. However, HE moved into my leased cottage – insisting I stay in the home we had shared. At first I think this is generous of him and he is finally showing respect toward my needs. I soon realize this strategic move allows him to return whenever he feels like it to take what he needs from me, knowing I will never be brave enough to ask for his house key or change the locks. This went on for months and then he moved back in.

After a few more failed attempts to leave him, the abuse gets drastically worse and the suicidal thoughts become more intense. Desperately scared of succumbing to these thoughts and leaving my precious daughter without my protection, I gather the strength to get out of this marriage — to save us.

a haven all my own

This time I find an apartment on the river, on top of a pottery studio. It was perfect. Terrified to tell him in person that I again found my own place, my crazy girl-power friend Tracy and I take time off work and move all of my belongings before he comes home. I am ashamed of my silent actions, but my efforts are done with as much courage as I can manage.

There is a steep metal staircase that leads to a loft overlooking the living room. I make this into my daughter’s play space, decorated with every sort of animal print imaginable – totally her thing. She loved it! I paint my bedroom a super pretty plum with white cotton curtains. I bought myself gorgeous red crystal wine glasses and fun art for my walls. It is all perfect.

And I was perfectly miserable. Despite my escape, I have no good memories there. The deep depression continues, as do the suicidal thoughts. It is everything I can do to continue my job, meet my daughter’s most basic needs and then smoke cigarettes, take prescription drugs and drink enough wine to fall asleep – every single night, usually alone.

and then my Ex came to visit

One day my Ex rides his bike 15 miles to my new apartment and knocks on my door. He stands there very sweaty and incredibly proud of himself. Not brave enough to stand up to him, I open the door and he pushes his way inside and looks around at all of my new things. Things WE had never shared. Our daughter is overjoyed to see him, but as usual he pushes her away. He then pushes me into my pretty bedroom and shuts the door. He gropes me aggressively, tugging at my clothes and pulling me onto the bed. Everything is blacking out and I am pulled outside of myself like always.

It felt all wrong, but even more than normal. This is my space, not his. I know in that moment that if I do not find courage I will never be free of him. I will never have my safety.

something snapped inside and for the first time I said no

Conditioned to not feel anger towards him…I became intensely angry at myself! Instead of collapsing into my usual obedience I use all of my strength to pull free. I want my voice to be loud, assertive and strong but it is quiet and meek as I stand up. “No. We cannot do this anymore.” I know there is no “we” in this, yet I never dare accuse him.

He pushes me into the wall and pushes himself up against me. For the first time I push back. I am shaking and I still cannot yell. My voice is almost gone. I sound far more submissive than I intend. But I say “No. You have to go now.” And after I repeat it a few more times, he actually does. He is terribly angry and cussing at me, telling me how unappreciative I am that he went through such efforts to see me. He continues to yell at me all the way down the steep staircase and out of the building while I stay frozen at the top.

That was it. I did it. It was so very difficult, yet so simple. I wish I suddenly felt empowered but I just feel small and selfish. I close my apartment door, sink onto the floor and cry with my daughter holding me.

my trust issues are with myself

That day was 14 years ago. One area that therapy is helping me understand now is my extensive trust issues – with other people, but even more with myself. My Ex always put much effort into explaining his innocence after every instance of hurting me. It was so exhausting listening to him, I was usually left either convinced of his innocence or at least of my lack of innocence. This left me distrusting myself – my memories, my mind, my actions.

I want to blame someone but never feel justified. In therapy sessions I am overly cautious to not sound dramatic and minimize memories, ensuring nothing is exaggerated falsely. I thought I was doing what is right, ensuring honesty. I did not see it as a “trusting myself” issue.

my fears did not magically disappear after the first time I said no

He already waited many years for his U.S. citizenship to be approved and remained adamant that I not file divorce paperwork until this went through. I obeyed, somewhat out of a loyalty driven by guilt, but more so because my fears were still strong. Standing up to him once did not magically take those fears away. So I waited another full year for my divorce.

Many years later my husband now told me this is a point in my story for which he is angry at me. He asks how I could allow him to become a US citizen?! If already separated, how could I still not tell him no? He has asked me multiple times over the years and I never have an answer for that question, just more shame.

He also asked me, simply out of curiosity, if I ever wished that it could have worked out with my Ex. Just the thought makes me shudder and my heart race still today. After the first time I said no…once I found my own voice, however meek it was, there was no possibility of reconciliation – only escape. I cannot bear the thought of being with him again and never once wished for it.

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No, I won’t back down

You can stand me up at the gates of hell

But I won’t back down

No, I’ll stand my ground

Won’t be turned around

And I’ll keep this world from draggin’ me down

Gonna stand my ground

And I won’t back down –

Hey baby, there ain’t no easy way out

Tom Petty – I Won’t Back Down

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