I walked into counseling a few days after I asked him to move out. I had felt confident in my decision until I sat in the waiting room. I suddenly felt guilty for not starting counseling before telling him that I needed a separation. Was I really capable of making that decision on my own? Shouldn’t I have waited for this counselor to tell me that it was ok to do?
What if she didn’t believe me? What if I didn’t even believe me? Had I just convinced myself that he was abusing me because I wanted out? Did I even want out? Saying the word abuse was like a punch to the gut. I felt ashamed to be a victim and guilty for putting that label on him. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was my fault; I was overreacting, too emotional, losing my mind, just plain crazy.
I stopped trusting myself years ago.
The word abuse came onto my radar about 7 months before this moment. It took a couple of months just to accept that it could be possible. Then I spent a few researching what abuse was, what the behaviors looked like, and what my options were. I hadn’t felt safe for a long time already, and it was only getting worse. When my eyes began to widen to the full scope of what had been my life for the last five years of dating, engagement, and marriage, I knew I had to take action. (Safety wasn’t my only concern. Theology was too. These posts are about my biblical point of view and helpful information on how to develop one).
Around the two year mark of marriage was the first time that I was able to verbalize that my union did not include two “normal” people but that something was very wrong with the way my husband was interacting with and treating me. While I was not able to label the behaviors that I was observing and the emotions that I was experiencing as abuse, I knew they were wrong.
I spent the next two years making known the specific actions that were hurting me, asking for couples counseling, reading every “Christian marriage” book I could, working on my personal growth, and being brave in my conversations with him. It all seemed to be fueling the fire. So when the word abuse came into my sight, and I felt confident that what I had indeed seen was a pattern of habitual abuse, I decided to separate and seek individual counseling.
Up until that moment, I thought that because it was a marital problem, I could only seek marital counseling.
And he had always refused. Unfortunately, that caused me to turn to materials and advice that weren’t appropriate for my situation. This post looks deeper at choosing a counselor, educating yourself, and picking the right resources for any situation. My Story will always revolve around abuse, but Growth posts are intended for anyone in any situation that has made them feel that their life isn’t what they imagined or wanted it to be.
Back to the counseling office – she was ready to see me. When I walked in that day, I was intimidated, nervous, confused, and afraid. I had lived in secrecy for so long, I wondered if everyone would assume I was lying now. He was charming and people easily fell for him. How had he’d been such a monster at home? Was it something I did? I had so many questions.
What unfolded in that session, and the months to come changed my life. I was heard. I was validated. I was empowered.
Counseling wasn’t a place for her to tell me what to do. It was a place for me to be resourced to make decisions for myself. It was a place for my voice to be the loudest. For me to rediscover who I was and that I was worthy of more. In counseling, power and control were placed back into my hands. I was given permission to ask any question and admit any fear, while still being seen as brave and strong.
We worked hard together, and I really appreciated the insight, encouragement, wisdom, and support she provided. She not only validated the emotions I was feeling, she also helped me process them, sort where they were coming from, grieve them, and release. She opened my eyes to abusive behavior I hadn’t yet identified and helped me to label it for what it was.
Counseling taught me to trust myself again so that I could continue the rest of my healing journey with confidence.
Combined with appropriate resources and coping strategies that were intended for abusive relationships, I began to see hope for a future Re.defined by all that Christ has done and was now doing in my life. I didn’t have to stay a victim. I didn’t have to feel crushed forever.
A Re.defined life could be beautiful if I pursued healing with the right help.
As I continued my journey, I utilized a fantastic support group of Christians that had also been through divorce and found education that spoke directly to the areas of my life that were hurting the most. As I began to feel my feet on the ground again, I could move to the other pieces of myself that I desired to change and was now capable of caring for.
I got my master’s degree to fulfill a dream that had been in my heart for many years, but also to learn more about what had happened in my life and how I could continue to heal and grow. Now, this blog has created a space to share some of my experiences and keep my journey moving forward. Every post brings me new insight.
Little by little, I am becoming whole. I still have plenty of work to do, but I’m really happy when I look in the mirror today.
Click here to learn how to Re.source yourself with a counselor, community, and education that support your healing goals.
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