I was a senior in high school and close to having a full-ride scholarship to the University of Tulsa for an art degree. The University was waiting for my final G.P.A. and graduation, but then I met John. I was working at Arby’s when I met him. Henry worked the backline and I ran the front. I don’t know how many months had passed before I gave him my phone number, chased him, wanted to be with him, and was that stupid young girl. Young and dumb! I was on fire for Christ when I met him. I moved in with John the last part of 1997. I moved into the Winnebago that his dad had parked next door to his mom’s house. Henry encouraged me to finish high school. He was supportive and pushed me to finish my classes. I became pregnant in January of 1998. Within 6 months’ time, my life had flipped. I graduated in May, got married on September 12th, turned 20 at the end of September, and had my first child on October 17th.

My life changed! We had also moved at least three times between January of 1998 and May of 1998. John and I had lived with one of his close friends in a 2 bedroom apartment. I hated it. I was pregnant, going to school, and it was exhausting. I had asked John one afternoon to spend time with me. We were off on the same day and he had been spending all of his free time with his friend. He got upset and tore the baby crib up with his bare hands. That crib was a family heirloom that my oldest cousin had slept in and I had slept in it when I was a baby. He had asked me to tell my mom that it got destroyed in the move and not to tell her the truth. I became afraid of him that day. He threw his first temper tantrum. I wanted to leave and go home to my parents but I had already become too afraid to leave. So I stayed. He had a few minor outbursts from the time our daughter was born until the time she was 6 months old. He would punch holes in the walls and once he threw an ivy plant, that I had from my grandmother’s funeral,  across the living room. Every time John blew up I wanted to say “John, calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.” But I was too afraid to speak up, at that time. It took me several years to be able to speak up and “fight back”. April of 1998, my daughter was six months old and I called my parents and they came, took my daughter and helped me get my things. John found at where we were and then the police were called. The police then escorted me to a safe house in Lawton. I stayed one or two nights but John had said he was sorry and cried those crocodile tears. While at the safe house, I was asked by the counselor what I wanted to do if I wanted to stay away from him or not. I wanted to go to college and get my art degree. I went back to him. After the first time, things changed for a while. He wasn’t as explosive but I was still afraid and wasn’t sure if or when he would blow up again. I was too afraid to ask for help and stay away for good.

I got pregnant again. We bought a mobile home and moved it onto the lot next to my parent’s house. That was a great idea. For several years, I was beaten. I was punched in the face, ribs, and arms. Anywhere bruises couldn’t be seen afterI had asked his mom at Christmas if she could see the fresh bruise on my face. That was about 20 years ago. I don’t feel the pain in my body from all the times he used me as a punching bag. The Lord healed every part. By His stripes, I am healed.  He grabbed my Polaroid camera out of my hands and smashed it on the floor while my two toddler children watched from the other room. I had contemplated suicide several times but it was always the Lord reminding me that my kids need me. I still have small scars on my wrist. I started to grow closer to the Lord.  I started praying and reading my Bible more. The Lord helped me. He strengthened me to fight back. I could tell you stories for days. Henry eventually started abusing my daughter, but only after my dad a 5″4′ Vietnam Vet, a career military man, had threatened to kill him if he laid another hand on me. Henry would kick my daughter and leave bruises on her legs, he would pull handfuls of hair out of her head, while yelling at her, “If you wouldn’t act this way I wouldn’t have to do this.” He called it discipline. I could only stand and watch. My daughter asked me once, “Mom what are you going to do about this? Mom, look at these bruises.” The next day, I went to the Women’s Haven and they contacted D.H.S. and so on October 18th, 2012, I was ordered to leave the house with my children and never return. I left him 9 times over 14 years and I went back 8. Psalms 18:19, “He brought me out into a spacious place because He delights in me”. January 2013, I stumbled onto a field with three trees, one large and two smaller ones. The sun was shining on the trees. But it was symbolism of the Lord shining on me and my kids and it showed me everything was going to be ok.  

John never allowed me to have friends. He was physical, psychologically, emotionally, and financially abusive. I have 10 pages of stories and a head full of memories. I spent a lot of those years afraid of what he would do if I left. I became disappointed in myself for staying so long. But it was my faith that helped me grow and change my mind from all the things he would say about me and get strong enough, be brave enough to leave and never go back. I became strong even when I felt weak and afraid. I want to help other people that have actually gone through Domestic Violence.
I finally completed my art degree in December of 2021. Just proof that if I can accomplish my goals, so can you.