I Will...I Do...I Did

Wedding day. The day most women dream about. Often times, the ring, the proposal, the Maid of Honor, Bridesmaids, color palette, & venue decorations are already picked & planned before the bride to be even know who the groom is. I was no different than most women. I remember claiming, “I’m getting married.” Some would offer congratulations while others would ask “to who?” I guess the plot twist was the fact that I had no earthly idea because I was single when I was saying it; single without any prospects in sight.

Eventually, I met my “knight in shining armor” and he asked for my hand in marriage. Well...kinda. Honestly, he just put the ring on my finger and that was that. I mean, it wasn’t exactly the proposal that I envisioned; but nothing is perfect, right?

Perhaps, this should’ve been the first red flag. Maybe, it was my benefit of the doubt mentality at the time, but I continued on the journey to matrimony.

Sure, we argued along the path of happiness, but all couples do that. When things got heated, the conversation ended, & we placed ourselves in timeout to cool down. The issue was what occurred during the cool down periods. Due to my strict southern Baptist rearing, we weren’t “allowed” to “shack up” (cohabitate) as that was a sin that was punishable by a sure ticket to hell. All who lived with a man that was not legally a spouse was condemned. Keeping that in mind, I had no idea how he handled his anger. I didn’t even bother to ask.

Mistake 1–Not asking questions.

It wasn’t until after we were hitched & living under the same roof that I discovered that his cool down consisted of throwing objects, lashing out verbally with the intent to destroy, & external aggression.

A day before the wedding, it seemed as if all hell broke loose. By 3:00 pm, we still had not been secured the venue, my original stylist was unable to fix my hair, groomsmen were unable to attend, the DJ had been hospitalized (after obtaining the deposit), the ring bearer & flower girl was MIA & all together removed from the wedding, the caterer had not been compensated, & the church had not been decorated. You see, he was supposed to financially cover the caterer, the venue, & the photographer. The problem was—he didn’t have the money. I was fresh out of funds. I had already purchased all of the decorations, invitations, wedding party favors, nails, shoes, jewelry, dress, dress alterations, & made the payment for the rental of the church. I had to take unpaid days of work in preparation for the wedding & fell into a vicious cycle of advanced pay day loans to foot majority of the wedding expenses.

He had lost his job prior to the wedding, but he assured & reassured me that his portion of wedding expenses would be covered by his side hustle as a roadside service. Turns out, the bank card that he left with the “money” was empty. Rather than admit this, he fumbled with lies & excuses. Another red flag.

Mistake 2- accepting the lies

Rather than call him out on his lie, I convinced myself into trying to make sense of the lies. A few hours from my actual wedding, I was stressed, crying, & a migraine was setting in. This was the moment I made him believe that he could continue lying to me—and he did.

By Friday night, I had made the decision in my mind that I was not going to get married. There was no way I could happily marry him. Then my conscience kicked in, & I knew I would have to follow through with the original plan. My family had traveled from California, Maryland, & other states. Guests had taken days off & gifts had been purchased to celebrate my “happy occasion.”

Mistake 3- placing the convenience & happiness of others before my own.

The consequences of my decision to please people would be my own. From that day forward, I lived in misery. Let me add that he was an Army Vet that served as a military police with several tours in Iraq & Iran. I worried about my safety after I noticed a slight tick he had while he was sleeping. Another red flag I ignored.

Not long after our wedding day, I suppose it was about a month or two later. I began feeling the sensation of someone obstructing my trachea, & I found it hard to breathe. My chest would feel heavy , & my body felt like I was no longer in control of it. I missed more days of work & was back & forth to the emergency department with unremarkable lab work & diagnostic imaging. I was diagnosed with anxiety & depression & started on medications.

He was controlling & abusive, but at the time it was only partly visible to me. It began as verbal insults. If he cracked a joke in a room full of people, I was always the target of the punchline. Something as simple as ours family watching tv & a baboon being shown turned into, “Stephy looks just like the monkey.” From there, it advanced to controlling how much I ate or when I ate because I was already “getting too big.”

When we first started dating, it wasn't long after I had my son, so naturally—I was smaller. After marriage, I started taking birth control pills and gained some rapid weight. His remark would be, "you won't this big before. What in the world happened to you?"

At home, he would take the plate out of my hand if he felt I had enough to eat. On restaurant dates, he would ask for “a box” for my food before I even ordered; because he wasn’t going to “sit there” & let me “eat all that food.”

During arguments on the road, he would speed & charge down the road at 65-70 mph on a rural deer infested road, then he would suddenly slam on the brakes. Uncontrollable anger. One night, he made me get out & walk.

When he was angry with me, he ignored my son. At one point, he locked my son in the car. No, he’s not my son’s father. During fights, he would say—“that’s why your son don’t have a daddy, & he never will.” I remember how much I cried that night.

Life with him became uncomfortable. By August or September, I made my decision to let him know I wanted to leave. I couldn’t bear another day being his wife. He then signed us up for couple counseling or couple therapy with his ordained best friend. I objected, so the best friend called to guilt me into staying by telling me that God frowned upon divorce. I stood my ground to make sure that he understood that God didn’t call any marriage into misery.

I was somehow guilted into trying to “work it out.” I suffered. We slept in separate rooms, & some nights he wouldn’t home home. I was drained mentally, emotionally, physically, & spiritually. Financially, I believed he would handle things. I don’t know why I thought that. He lied the same way he did the day before the wedding.

The final straw was the night he made an attempt to fight my dad at my parents’ house. He left my parents’ so mad that he drove backwards across the highway to the side street we lived on. When he got there he broke the key off in the door. Do you know how mad you have to be to break a metal key? He then called & asked me to come home. My response was, “how do I know that you have changed?” To which he responded, “come home & find out.” Wrong answer. The next day, I was escorted by my dad & a local sheriff to remove my possessions. I left & never went back.

Of course people asked what happened, & long story short was I had to do what was best for me & my son. To this day, my son still hates screaming, yelling, & altercations. He wasn’t old enough to remember, but it’s evident now that he was affected.

I made a conscious choice to say “I will,” & a hesitant decision to say “I do.” Or at least, I thought I did.