Starting Over

With tears in her eyes, she looked around the room once more before walking out of the door. Should she take a few pictures to remember this beautiful place she was leaving? Or should she just turn and run? At the age of 51 she had never been on her own before…not completely alone. Her kids were grown and living on their own; all she had right now was her dog, her self-respect, and a tremendous amount of fear and uncertainty. She did take pictures, only to be deleted a few months later…deleted out of her phone and eventually out of her memory. Tears streamed down her face as she closed the door, loaded her last things into her car, and drove away. 

 Beautiful place? It really was a beautiful place when she first found it. After a year of marriage, she and her husband searched for a new home in which to grow old together. After a few weeks of house hunting, there it was—a stunning two-story brown brick home in a private cul-de-sac neighborhood. The 3,100 square foot home overlooked a peaceful lake surrounded on two sides by trees. Inside, everything was impeccable! Perfectly polished dark hardwood floors, modern light fixtures, sleek granite countertops in the kitchen and bathrooms, imported ceramic tile showers, an open floor plan with large windows showcasing the breathtaking lake views, and a peaceful backyard that donned a screened in porch and an outdoor stone patio covered by a redwood pergola. They knew, instantaneously, that this was their forever home. 

Moving day was in March and just in time to begin planting spring flowers. The yard was perfectly landscaped, but she wanted to add her own personal touches with a few rose bushes and other colorful flowers. As spring led to summer, she became great friends with the neighbors while taking her dog for daily walks on the track around the lake. One neighbor invited her over often to visit and/or swim in her tropically decorated inground pool. This neighbor, as well as many others, picked up on the vibe that she was alone quite often; her husband had a second job that kept him away most of the time. As the weather got cooler and the fall leaves began to cover the ground, she took the autumn decorations out of the attic. She loved to decorate, especially now that she had such a beautiful home to display her many holiday treasures. Her husband loved coming home to the smells of fall scented candles burning and a fabulously prepared meal, almost as much as she loved preparing it all. Fall led to winter and the Christmas season, which was her favorite time of year. Now her beautiful home was a winter wonderland adorned with a 9 foot Christmas tree in the den, a 6 foot Christmas tree in the hearth room off of the kitchen, and Christmas decorations from top to bottom. Inside and outside of the house was like a picture from a magazine. And in a few more months they had lived in their forever paradise one full year. 

Life was perfect! Besides the decorative holiday displays, there were adventurous and elaborate vacations, fun family gatherings, relaxing evenings on the patio, and just about anything and everything that goes along with a happy home. Even though she was alone most of the time, his second job provided the means to afford all of these things. She worked a full time job, came home to cook and clean as he expected, and waited for his hug each evening. During the week, they only saw each other while getting ready for work in the mornings and about an hour after he got home in the evenings. She lived for Friday nights and the weekends when he did not work his second job. Friday night was her night off from cooking, as they went on a dinner date every Friday. Saturdays and Sundays were always their time together, minus the occasional family event or errand. So, even though he worked extensively, she didn’t really mind because she relaxed with her personal time during the week and spent quality time with him on the weekends. 

As with any perfect marriage and home, there were occasional disagreements. Most of the time the arguments were very minor and resolved quickly. But after a couple of years, things began to change. Her husband decided they needed more money (which they did not) and started working on the weekends also. Now their time was limited to a few hours Friday evening, Saturday night, and Sunday night. This did not resonate well with her. Being the family oriented and affectionate person she was, she wanted time with her husband and began to realize things and trips were not important any more. Naturally, she confronted him about his work schedule. He said he could not change his schedule at this point, maybe later. But he never did. A few years went by like this, and she grew lonely and depressed. Again, she approached her husband, and again he denied any changes; in fact, his schedule increased. Their time on the weekends was even shorter now. He promised it would only be temporary, though. 

Another year had passed and her depression grew deeper. Her husband was working more and came home exhausted every evening. Needless to say, distance began to grow between them. She asked for him to attend counseling with her, but he refused; therefore, she did what she thought would help-–cooked and cleaned better, was more seductive, did anything and everything to save their marriage-–to no avail. Slowly, the distance between them worsened. There were fewer goodbye or hello hugs, texts were only about necessities, and sex was almost non-existent. They were simply roommates. 

Whether it was the separate lifestyles they had started living, the loveless marriage, or the lack of communication, something was seriously wrong and it was not improving. Then one Friday evening as they got into the car to head out on what was now a ritual dinner rather than a date, a startling discovery was made. When he turned on the ignition and the radio connected to his phone the sound coming through the speakers was not music to her ears at all; it was the most erotic sexual pornographic sounds she had ever heard. The panic on his face admitted that he had been watching porn videos on his phone. And then the interrogation began…What is that? Why are you listening to and watching that? Why am I not good enough for you? What else are you doing? He did not have any answers to any of her questions. His lame excuse of having a weak moment did not satisfy her; she knew there had to be more that he was not telling.

In the months that followed that Friday night car incident, it was like night turning into day. There was an awakening within her spirit that brought her out of the depression. Her discoveries were beyond her belief. He had been not only watching the porn stars, but also messaging and video chatting with them. If that wasn’t bad enough, she found hidden empty Vodka bottles, a bag of marijuana, and a sex toy that was not hers. Then the realizations began to occur: he had always asked about her spending, where she was and when she would be home, why her kids were coming over, why dinner was not right on time when he got home, and so many more insignificant questions. She began to see the signs–the control, the brainwashing, the neglect, the abuse. It was all there. She was a victim of emotional neglect and abuse. 

Surprisingly, she tried once more to reconcile the marriage. By this point he had no intention of repairing anything. The fights escalated to yelling and foul language. She spent several nights crying herself to sleep in the guest bedroom. In one argument, he shouted that he wished they had never gotten married and he did not love her. This was her breaking point. She then knew it was time to go. To free herself from this miserable situation. To make him realize that he cannot get away with treating someone this way. Could she even do it? She had never lived alone before in her entire life. She had never ventured out without someone’s help. Did she have the courage and strength or should she stay where she was comfortable even if she wasn’t happy? 

A few more months went by and, although she desperately wanted out, she continued to stay. Then, out of the blue, he decided he would take a trip alone to visit some family out of town for the weekend. Something in her told her that it was now or never. If she did not leave while he was out of town, she knew she never would. The anxiety and nervousness leading up to the weekend was almost more than she could bear. All the what if’s ran through her mind. But when he packed and left without hugging her or saying goodbye, she knew she was making the right decision. 

Her first step was to find a place to live. Unfortunately, every apartment complex in the city was fully occupied. After two days of frantically searching, she found a one bedroom efficiency apartment that was 690 square feet in total. She was leaving a 3,100 square foot 4-bedroom, 4 bathroom house for a tiny apartment, and she was terrified but somewhat thrilled. She quickly packed as much as she could in three days, leaving behind so many beautiful possessions that she had meticulously chosen for their forever home. 

With tears in her eyes, she looked around the room once more before walking out of the door. Should she take a few pictures to remember this beautiful place she was leaving? Or should she just turn and run? At the age of 51 she had never been on her own before…not completely alone. Her kids were grown and living on their own; all she had right now was her dog, her self-respect, and a tremendous amount of fear and uncertainty. She did take pictures, only to be deleted a few months later…deleted out of her phone and eventually out of her memory. Tears streamed down her face as she closed the door, loaded her last things into her car, and drove away.