The Evolution of Me!!!

“Be different so that people can see you clearly amongst the crowds.”  Mehmet Murat ildan

Whom… They ask is this woman? A woman with a free spirit soaring high like an eagle. A different kind of girl, the oldest of four known as the sickly child. Her “Scarlet Letter” came in the form of illness.

Once in pigtails wrapped with ribbon, ruffled dresses, frilly socks and patent leather shoes that could be heard miles away. Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. That’s what this little girl was made of.

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A dainty girl blossomed into a beautiful woman with unusual interests. The little princess started to evolve.

No longer confined to a bubble by what ailed her. The spirit of healing breathed new life into this woman. Leaving behind a new lease on life and the need to go against the grain. What mattered now was the need to feel alive and embrace her true self.

The sound of combat boots on the black top as she marched and sung in cadence was sweet music to her ears. Intrigued by the kick- back from a M-16 rifle against her shoulder. Feeling sore and bruised was a welcomed reminder of the prior day. The metamorphosis of her thought process was underway.

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Her physical strength allowed her to not be seen as weak in the eyes of her male counterparts. Mentally strong enough to know her limitations but not limited by their beliefs. Owning the ability to draw firm lines in the sand that they did not and would not cross.

Thrill seeking became the norm. Harnessed, tied to a line and dropped into the ocean from a DDG Class Destroyer. Sky diving or feeding a need for speed with the Nascar Experience. Kamikaze or on a mission to fulfill lost childhood adventures?

This woman was doing what most woman wouldn’t. Living out what some only dream about. Settling for what was the status quo for a female was out of the question. Pointing, stares and whispers about how she was not on the beaten path no longer mattered.

Paying tribute to Buzz who assisted in the journey. An old love whom she helped rebuild the engine of his 1970 Ford pickup. Turning her into a grease monkey with manicured nails. Tinkering with a Fat Boy Harley and going on long rides to play Texas Hold’em revealed the inner biker chick.  It’s the subtle things that build confidence and with that she became more powerful in her own right.

The unusual life continues as a truckers’ wife. Living out on the open road six days a week is not for the faint of heart. This woman’s versatility allows her to drop landing gear, tend to air lines and plot routes. There is no structure as a truckers’ wife and danger can be around any corner.

One of many women kicking in the door to clubs exclusively for men. These rare women refuse to be followers and are determined to change the world. Versatility is her crown and everyone must pay their respect.

This type of woman is no longer afraid to stand up in the crowd. Simply fitting in works for some, many are called but very few are chosen. If you are different be who you are and live life on your own terms.

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I said… NO MORE!!!

This post will depict a true and disturbing story about how I survived domestic violence. Hopefully my story will help other victims and build awareness.

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We met while in the Navy in Norfolk, Virginia. I was stationed aboard the USS Ross (DDG- 71), he worked in the medical facility as a hospital corpsman that also worked with the Marines. Our meeting was short lived due to my newly commissioned ship always out at sea.

Our paths crossed again seven years later in Orlando, Florida and we picked up where we left off. Good looking, great sense of humor and intelligent were the qualities that drew me in. I loved his company so much that a couple of months later I moved in with him. Despite the constant warnings from my roommate to wait and take things a bit slower. There were no signs that this guy had deep routed issues.

It started with what I thought was just a little jealousy.

I was a personal fitness trainer so of course he inherited a free membership and would come to the gym to workout. His workouts would consist of him watching me interact with my male clients and co- workers. Daily, I would be interrogated regarding my many conversations with these men. If asked how my day went, that meant specifics about everything from who I worked out with to what I ate for lunch.

One day he came in and noticed the general manager and I in an office talking. When we exited he grabbed my arm with such force that I thought it would break. I was ushered out of the fitness facility across the parking lot over to my car. He began to yell about my flirting and demanding to know how long I had been cheating with my boss. My denial of his ridiculous accusations went unheard, later that evening I was locked out of the bedroom and forced to sleep on the couch. The next day he was very apologetic, he was inconsolably crying stating that his ultimate fear was losing me to someone else.

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As time passed his fear and jealousy evolved into a need to control me. It began with the breaking of my spirit!

Each day at some point he would find time to tell me I was useless due to the fact that I was no longer employed. He strategically sabotaged my ability to gain employment. He was unable to find unemployment due to his inability to keep a job and bad references. Insults were frequent, ranging from how I resembled a man because of my toned body and that I was not as pretty as I thought. He made sure to inform me that the mothers of his children were very beautiful women.

The aggressive pulling and shoving turned into slaps and punches.

There was an incident when we went out dancing with his best friend and his girlfriend. The night was the best night we had in a long time. We all enjoyed our night, we danced the night away. Who would have thought it would have ended with him repeatedly slamming me against a wall and blood streaming down my face? A mounted picture hit me on the head resulting in a gash not deep enough for stitches. He refused to take me to the hospital, he was medically able to attend to my wound. This was punishment for innocently dancing with another man.

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Finally, Dr. Jekyll exposes his Mr. Hyde.

What type of man chases a woman out of the house in the middle of the night? Running after me like a raging lunatic because I was too busy at work to return his call. Once he caught me, I was thrown to the ground and kicked repeatedly. Supposedly I was up to know good and attempting to leave him. As if this is normal behavior he picked me up carried me back into the apartment, tucked me in with a kiss and cuddled me as if nothing happened. Whispering in my ear that he loved me and would do anything to keep me in his life. He loved me more than life itself!!!

This tough, expert shooting, adventure seeking Navy girl was indeed broken. I often would ask myself… How did I get here? This question came mostly while nursing bruises. It’s not always the women who are timid or that have low self-esteem that are victimized. That is definitely a misconception that allows the signs of domestic violence to go unnoticed. Domestic violence often starts with brain washing and the breaking of the victims’ spirit. My abuser started with verbal abuse that progressed into brain washing and physical abuse.

Many people say…

Why stay?

Get help!

“I would never be in that situation”.

What’s wrong with her?

The same statements were made by me until I became a victim. I learned the offender finds the weakness of his victim and prey on them. My fiancée was very manipulative. He used the fact I was the primary bread winner. Repeatedly reminding me that he was unable to find a job, he would lose the condo and become homeless. He would say… “I will die without you.” He would cry and tell me he was not mentally well and needed help. Often thinking back to who to the person he used to be; hopeful that person still existed. So I stayed!!!

The opportunity to leave was always there.

Packing up the car and moving to another city and state lived in the back of my mind. Family and friends would have welcomed me with open arms no questions asked. They would have been my support system, not to mention my brothers and male friends would have beat him senseless. Most families like mine are unaware of what is going on behind closed doors. The abuse is a secret kept out of both fear and embarrassment. Not all victims have a support system to confide in or run to.

Warning signs are there!

There are ways to tell if someone you know is in an abusive relationship. Observe any changes outside of the victims’ ordinary behavior. Here are a few characteristics…

  • Antisocial behavior, especially if the victim is ordinarily very outgoing.
  • Nervous or fearful around partner.
  • Signs of depression.
  • Constantly checking in with significant other
  • Frequent injuries.
  • Partner shows signs of extreme jealousy.

I said “No More” after a night out with him and a female friend of mine. We originally planned for a girls’ night out but of course that was not allowed. After having a few drinks, we decided to spend the night at her condo to avoid the thirty-minute drive home. Sleepy and inebriated from the drinks I crawled into bed and ignored his sexual advances. Irate by my refusal he began to his usual yelling and insulting behavior. Fed up, I decided to go sleep on the couch. As I started for the bedroom door he grabbed me by the arm, spun me around and punched me in the jaw. Immediately, I saw stars and something inside me snapped simultaneously. I remember the first swing of the lamp from the bedside table then looking into the eyes of my friend. She was screaming at me…” Stop!”  “Snap out of it!” Apparently, I had blacked out.  Glancing over my shoulder, I could see him on the floor with blood streaming from his head, nose, mouth and eyes. I had no sympathy for him, just a heart full of disgust. To make a long story short. I drove myself to the police department to make a report. I remember standing in a room in a pink bath robe as a female officer took pictures of my face and all the bruises on my body. I drove to our apartment packed what I could in a hurry and left for good. All stories don’t end this way!

Stories of this nature would not have to be shared if we as a community get involved. We all can say “No More” to all types of abuse. 12.7 million people are physically abused, raped or stalked by their partners in one year. Domestic violence should not be tolerated. Report what you say and hear, refuse to turn a blind eye to all types of abuse. Please… say “No More” to domestic violence, let’s save lives.

NO MORE

National Coalition Against Domestic Violence

KEN WHEATON

Novelist. Editor. Journalist. Business Writer.

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