To Thine Own Self Be True
By Patricia
At the age of thirty six I was set free from sixteen years of a marriage of emotional and physical abuse from a man who had vowed to love, honour and care for me until death us do part.
I am now seventy-two and I am so proud of myself that I survived – and have relished my freedom.
In 1980 Domestic Violence was not a topic of interest to the media, politicians, medical fraternity or indeed friends and family – as a victim the overall sense I had was one of shame and guilt – re-enforced again and again.
When I look back I realise that my survival depended very much on just getting on with the practicalities of living - working and looking after my son and daughter. All the difficult emotions were suppressed to come and haunt me in dreams and relationships – even now.
This is my story and the first time I have ever talked about it.
My married life on the surface looked one of promise and privilege. I was a very easygoing, somewhat shy young woman who had lived independently from the age of seventeen. My mother had been particularly controlling and at fourteen insisted I leave school and find work – my boyfriend became my husband when I was twenty – I think I married him more because his mother always invited me for Sunday lunch!
We moved interstate and the man embraced his new lifestyle and expected that I not only be his wife but mother as well. He became very demanding and whilst financially doing well - very stingy. It seems so funny now - but I was required to present a double-entry financial reconciliation each week on the household expenditure of $50 – if I wanted anything for myself then I had to earn it. So I did. I had few friends and didn’t really ask for much. The man didn’t like my cooking, the way I dressed, the way I voted and complained that I was frigid and a parasite etc etc. Mostly I kept quiet.
I enrolled in a University course and enjoyed the subjects, the fellow students and the opportunity to improve myself. The abuse from the man increased, he was drinking very heavily and becoming physical in his abuse. At every opportunity he tried to de-rail my study. I was very insecure, no self esteem and unhappy. My GP prescribed valium and anti-depressants and advised that I should please my husband.
On the final night the man came home after sailing all day fully inebriated and full of fight. He beat me up then went to bed. I rang my father. In the morning my father arrived from interstate and met the man who was dressed and leaving for work.
The GP attended me at home – I had broken ribs, excessive bruising, dislocated neck, perforated eardrum and heavy bleeding. The GP arranged for private nursing at home and said I was not to mention what had happened as “it would ruin your husband’s career”
I left the house with the children and did not go back to the marriage and the man – the most overwhelming reason was - I knew if he ever attacked me again I would kill him!
What followed was years of legal wrangle, the man stalking me and breaking into the house we lived in, his lack of financial support and interest in his children. I finally finished my degree after years of dropping in and out when I needed to work more than part time. Within a month the man had started a new relationship with a woman he married twelve months later. In thirty-five years he has only invited his children to spend one Christmas and one holiday with him.
So what have I learned from this:
Everyone is entitled to follow their dreams and seek to fulfil their potential.
There is dignity in work – and the financial outcome increases one’s freedom and control.
Your children need nurturing - they do grow up and become what they become – just stand by them and enjoy them.
Seek out people who have expertise and can help you – a good GP, supportive police.
The story does not end there – the man has recently sought to reconcile with his children and it fills me with fear and dread when he is in the same State.
I still wake at night and get up to make sure the doors and windows are locked – and I still sleep with the light on.
But I also look back and think what a brave person I was.