#52: Divorced Twice By 21

By the time I turned 21, I had been divorced twice, homeless, and lost all trust in humanity. I want to spend some time expressing what that darker time of my life was like in order to help others realize the importance of never giving up. Life can (and does) get better. I was holding on by a thread, but because I did hold on, I have twenty-five years of bliss with the love of my life (of course filled with many peaks and valleys).
 
I graduated at the age of 17 and married my first husband at 18. The college I was attending was closing, so I married my boyfriend and moved with him to Springfield, Missouri. The traumatized mind often tries to protect itself, and I cannot recall many details during this time. I do remember he dropped me off on the side of the road with the clothes on my back and (I think) a single bag when we were back in Washington state. We hadn’t even been married an entire year. 
 
I was homeless for a while, and then ended up staying with my sister briefly. She was dealing with her own issues at the time, and from there I found myself in my uncle’s basement while I worked and attended another two-year college. Within another year I was married again and living in California. 
 
Unfortunately, Husband #2 was an abusive marriage. I won’t dwell on the details of the abuse or issues in that relationship. But to put it into perspective, the marriage ended in a court martial and was the first case concerning a husband raping his wife. After a night of abuse, I moved in with a friend’s parents. Though the torment did not end with leaving the house. Husband #2 stalked me day and night. I feared for my life and sustained constant harassment. At one point he tried to put on a show that he was a changed man who wanted to salvage his marriage and convinced the pastor of our church to come to the house and get me to reconcile. That did not go well. 
 
One day when I was out for a run, a private detective assigned to the case was disguised as a fisherman. He jumped out at me and told me Husband #2 was hiding in the woods waiting for me. He told me I needed to stay with him and eventually I saw Husband #2 retreat to her car. That detective saved my life that day. After the court martial, I never heard from Husband #2 again. 
 
These years were incredibly difficult, and I wondered how much lower I could go. Homeless, lost and divorced twice by the age of 21. I was humiliated and hopeless. I didn’t have parents to turn to and felt so alone. This wasn’t the life I dreamt of, and I felt as though my entire life had been fighting in survival mode. How could I trust anyone? But my faith in God and good friends (who became like family) helped me get through it all. At 23, I found my person and partner in life. Life is amazing, but it can be awful. There are peaks and valleys, and most things are out of our control. Hold on. Breath. Trust that things WILL get better again.
 
“One day you will thank yourself for not giving up.” –LR Knost 

Until Next Monday...