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Domestic Violence - One Woman's Story

One Woman's Story > Resources You Can Use

Domestic violence can begin as verbal abuse and then escalate into physical violence.

Here is one woman's story of how happiness and hope turned into a nightmare, but fortunately she is a domestic violence survivor.

Source:  "The Impact Of Domestic Violence On The Tennessee Economy", A Report to the Tennessee General Assembly, presented by Tennessee Econonic Council on Women, Nashville, TN. - January, 2006

ONE WOMAN’S STORY
At age twenty, I was on top of the world. I was a college student on the Dean’s List, had just won a local beauty contest, had a great family environment, tons of friends and loved life. Through friends, I met Bill and my life would be completely turned upside-down over the next fi ve years.

After our first meeting, he called a few times and seemed very sweet and funny. When I invited him to
a party, he arrived with flowers and was very charming. I was smitten and we began dating. My 21st
birthday arrived and he wined and dined me and lavished me with expensive gifts and constant

flattery.  I didn’t suspect that this behavior covered a need for control which would lead to abuse.

We’d only been dating six months when he introduced me to his extended family at a reunion. As we
were visiting, a plane flew overhead with a banner that read, “Will you marry me?” and Bill presented
me with a beautiful diamond ring. Caught up in the moment, and having no idea what my life would
soon turn into, I gladly accepted. Bill pushed for a quick engagement and we were married six months later.

It was during our engagement that the abuse really began. One day, we were arguing in the car. Bill
was driving and I thought he was going to run off the road. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed the
steering wheel. Bill backhanded me and then reasoned that I deserved to be slapped in the face for grabbing the wheel. I could have caused an accident, after all. After we both calmed down, he was very apologetic, vowing, of course, that it would never happen again. The incident was a red flag that I chose to ignore.

Our wedding was perfect except for the fact that my closest friend wasn’t a part of it. Bill didn’t like her and forbade me to ask her to be my maid of honor. It ruined our friendship and we didn’t speak again for almost five years.

A few months after the wedding, we decided to move. Bill told me he had a job lined up, which was
good because we were moving 2000 miles away from anyone we knew and had little savings. Fortunately, I got a job at a retail company and Bill got a job in construction. Money was scarce and making ends meet was difficult. We argued all the time.

The verbal abuse really started and he never let up, it seemed. I wasn’t the girl he married, he complained. I wasn’t thin enough or pretty enough, the house wasn’t clean enough and on and on. If things in the house were not exactly the way he wanted, he blamed and scolded me, usually grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me.

The one thing that was going well was my job. I received a promotion and needed a car. We bought a
used car and began making payments when his truck broke down. He had also received a raise and was making five cents an hour more than me. Because he was earning more, he took the car and left me to get to and from work however I could. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without him, unless he chose not to go. He threatened that I would be in “big trouble” if I talked to anyone about our marriage. He once threw me out the door with instructions to get a gallon of milk. There was a

horrific rainstorm and I refused to go which, of course, was the wrong thing to do. I later learned that the rainstorm had actually been a tornado.

By this time, I was emotionally and mentally broken. I was exhausted, living in constant fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. The verbal abuse continued as the physical abuse escalated. He once whipped me around by my arm and almost pulled my arm out of socket.

Somehow, I continued to do well with my job and received another promotion. I was now making
more money than Bill. I will never forget coming home from a business trip to find that he’d spent
every dime of my paycheck when his brothers came to visit. Despite the fact that the bills were going
unpaid, he spent our money on gifts and expensive restaurants. We argued and he told me that if his
life didn’t get better, he was going to kill himself. I later learned this is another common tactic abusers use to maintain control over their victim.

Every time, the apologies would come and he seemed sincere. Things were always better for a while
and then, as I could predict, something else would happen. I had always dreamed of being a dancer for a professional sports team. With his permission, I auditioned and won a place on the squad. Bill came to a game with his buddies and embarrassed me the entire time. “I don’t see those moves at home!” he shouted from the stands. I was humiliated and began to finally see that what we had was not a marriage.