The relationship issues with Ron and I began long before we were ever married. He was controlling, manipulative, and he didn’t mind a good fight. I, on the other hand, hated fighting. I’m the type that needs my space when I’m angry or upset. I need time to think things out. Ron never wanted to give me that space.
Even while we were dating, I could see the serious warning signs that our relationship was a disaster. One night we got into a really big fight on the phone. I told him we needed to sleep on it and hung up on him. He didn’t like that. He called back my cell phone several times before realizing I wasn’t going to answer. Then he started calling my apartment phone. I didn’t know my roommates very well at the time and didn’t want them to know about the drama, so I unplugged the apartment phone. He next thing I knew, he was knocking at my door. I don’t remember what the fight was about, but I remember the fear and the tears.
There were lots of tears over the nine months we were married. Don’t get me wrong, there were good times to, but they were honestly few and far between in that relationship. Never in my life did I feel so crazy and out of control as I did those nine months.
Every time we fought, I would get overwhelmed. He would get in my face and I would end up pushing him or hitting him to get away. When I did end up getting away, I would lock myself in the bedroom. That is until one day I came home and he had reversed the locks. The next time I locked myself in the bathroom, he kicked the door so hard, he left a dent in it. And forget it if I ever wanted to take a walk or go for a drive to clear my head. He would sit in front of our apartment door so I couldn’t leave.
While all of this was going on, I was also still in school. As things progressively got worse at home, I decided to fill my time with more and more. I took as many credits as I could, I had a job, I was on an activities committee, and I took up working out. I took every opportunity to get away from Ron and we spent less and less time together.
Through all of my ways of avoidance, I start to realize everything I was missing out on by being married. I started to meet new people and I realize I never gave myself the chance to date and have fun in college. As much as I was still trying to convince myself I was happy, the thoughts of dating other guys slowly crept into my mind.
That summer my family had a big reunion at Bear Lake. After a week in Bear Lake, Ron and I came home and I just completely broke down. I could no longer stand the thought of being with him the rest of my life and I wanted to get away as quickly as possible. He convinced me we should go and talk with one of our church leaders. I reluctantly agreed, but as soon as we got there, I decided against it. I didn’t want anyone telling me I should stay with him and we should work things out. I’d had enough. I took off on foot and walked back to our apartment.
Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done at that point, but Ron made it really easy for me. After I took off and he couldn’t find me, he ended up calling my parents. Through a series of events, my parents convinced us that it would be a good idea for Ron and I to drive to Colorado to their house. Ron stayed a night or two and then left to go back to our apartment while I stayed with my parents. After a week, or maybe less, I made my official decision.
Everything that happened after that was kind of a whirlwind. My parents brought me back to Ron and I’s apartment and we packed up all my stuff. There were a few disagreements on items, but for the most part, we didn’t have much to divide up. We headed on our way, and I left behind the life I never should have had.
Being blinded by love is very real. If you had asked me during the time of our relationship if there was any abuse, I would have told you no and I honestly believed that. I didn’t recognize how bad things were at the time. I told myself things would get better, someday we would be able to figure everything out.
We went to a counselor and had several chats with our bishop about our relationship, but I was never able to speak up. Ron spoke for both of us most of the time and I never let anyone know about the pain and doubts I was hiding inside. I blamed myself for every fight and every problem.
I wish I could say that everything got better after our divorce. I wish I could say I took everything I learned and immediately applied to it my life to make it better. But getting divorced was really just the beginning of new life lessons, new heartaches, and new adventures.
To be continued…