Love Isn't Supposed to Hurt

by Paul, Christi

  People often think holding on is what makes you strong, but sometimes it’s letting go. I was committed to releasing all that haunted me from this relationship. I wanted to learn from it, yes, but I was no longer willing to be chained to the memories that made me feel inadequate, insecure, and fearful.

  That night I ate dinner, went for a run, and then simply forced myself to sit there in silence. No television. No phone. No music.

  I imposed upon myself brutal honesty. It seemed the only way to go. If I’d been living in a bubble, then it was time to burst it.

  Justin and I were just days away from the one-month mark. Before I told Justin I wanted a divorce, there were four questions I really needed to answer. I wanted to make sure I left this situation with integrity and with as little emotional baggage as possible. That was the only way to move ahead. None of us can go through an abusive relationship without taking scars with us when we leave. A Band-Aid isn’t the answer. We need to clean out those wounds and apply healing ointment to them.

  So I wrote down these four questions:

  1. Why did I marry him?

  2. Why did I leave him?

  3. Why did I allow myself to put up with the abuse?

  4. What did I want now?

  I started off by tackling number one: why did I marry Justin?

  First, I loved him. That was true, and the answer came easily. At one time I’d loved him very much. In the beginning he was thoughtful and kind. He made me feel like he was always thinking about me and that he valued his time with me. And there were moments during our marriage when I still felt that.

  But once the abuse started—the name-calling, the vulgar language, the punching of walls, the accusations of infidelity, the drinking, and the lying—it superseded those times of connection between us. My fear became more prevalent than those sweet moments.

  I had to be truthful with myself, though. I had also married Justin out of fear, which was ironic because that was also why I’d left him. I was afraid that if I didn’t go to Boise with him, I’d lose him.

  Oh, how pathetic! I thought as I came face-to-face with that reality. Was I really that stupid?

  But wait, no more name-calling. I was learning to differentiate my own voice from Justin’s. I’d been through enough of that already.

  Okay, deep breath. Keep going.

  I thought back to that time when I decided to marry Justin instead of going to Cleveland. I feared letting him go, because—wait for it—what if he were my last chance at happiness? What if he was “the one” and one day I’d end up alone, regretting not marrying him?

  Okay, so it was pretty pathetic.

  I was twenty-seven years old at the time. Most of my friends were already married, so I suppose I felt like I had some catching up to do. I had to ask myself, Did I marry him just because I wanted to get married?

  I sat on that a long time. I considered it fully. I didn’t want to be alone, and that was definitely a factor in my decision. I needed to own my codependency issues. But ultimately that wasn’t the whole story.

  I allowed my mind and my heart to go back in time to when Justin gave me the ultimatum of going to Cleveland without him or going to Boise with him. What did I see in him that held me to him?

  I swallowed hard. The truth is, we’re often attracted to people who have something we desire for ourselves.

  I wanted to marry Justin because he seemed so self-assertive and brave and sturdy to me at a time when I was feeling especially vulnerable. I saw in him something I wanted to be: strong.

  Most of us sense a void inside us that nothing else seems to fill. So when we see what we lack in someone else, we cling to it as if our lives depended on it.

  Now, this isn’t entirely a bad thing—our differences can complement each other, no doubt. But we can never live vicariously through another person. We need to find our wholeness, our sense of completion on our own. No human will be able to do that for us.

  Besides, that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone. Even if they don’t realize the expectation, on some level, they probably feel it. Sure, we can have heroes in this life, but we can only have one Savior. That God-shaped hole won’t be filled by anything less than God Himself.

  I realized now that when I said yes to Justin, I was in no frame of mind to make that kind of decision. At the time I was living with a massive hollow, and I tried to fill it with a man. That wasn’t fair to either of us.

  So . . . I married Justin because (1) I loved him, (2) I feared being without him, (3) I had some codependency issues, and (4) I saw a strength in him that I wanted for myself.

  Okay. Good start.

  What I knew, too, was that marrying him was my choice. This was a fact I couldn’t ignore.

  I couldn’t blame Justin for giving me an ultimatum. I couldn’t put it on P.A.’s death and the ache it left in me. Regardless of my reasons, I chose to marry him, and I had to own that. It wasn’t his fault or anyone else’s.

  That led me down another path: was this relationship a mistake? I didn’t think so. Every relationship, every meeting with another person, gives us a chance to learn something. God can use each interaction to open us up to more of who we are. And that’s not a mistake.

  I was finally starting to realize that those years spent locked in this turmoil helped me find a strength I might never have found had it not been for this relationship. I discovered a whole new level of independence, courage, faith, and conviction. And what’s interesting, too, is that this experience gave me the freedom to accept people just as they are. Without evaluating them or sizing them up. I knew what it was like to live in someone else’s prison, and I wasn’t about to impose that on anyone else.

  So as I sat there thinking about not just who I was but who I wanted to be, I released the blame I was feeling toward myself. And I prayed for forgiveness, mercy, and guidance.

  I was already starting to feel stronger, like I had a better grasp on who I was. But there was still so much to explore.

  It would have to wait. I was exhausted, and I wanted to bask in this feeling of clarity.

  I crawled into my bed—alone but happy.

  Chapter 12

  Don’t Let Yesterday Waste Today

  While Justin and I had agreed to keep the separation under the radar, I knew he’d told a few of his friends what was happening. I hoped it was helping him. There were days I needed support too. My family was there for me, of course, but I needed someone who was close to me in heart and in proximity. My sweet friend Sam, who was also my co-anchor, became another go-to person for me.

  When O’Neill and Phil had hired me, they created the co-anchor position to fit me onto their team. As excited as I was for the opportunity, I had some trepidations. Let’s be honest—we all know that women can be downright mean to each other at times, especially if they feel their territory is threatened. While I didn’t see myself as a threat, I wasn’t really sure how I’d be received. For all I knew, Sam was saying to herself, Who does this little chick think she is, invading my show? So I did my best to tread lightly.

  This business, like many others, is full of egos. I had seen the damage done as a result of inflated self-images in the past, so I was committed to keeping my ego in check. I never wanted to get too big for my britches or act like someone couldn’t get along without me. I was well aware that while I was capable at doing my job, it wasn’t my entire identity. But when it came to what kind of reception I’d receive from my coworker, I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  I quickly learned, however, that my concerns couldn’t have been more off base. Sam immediately reached out to me with her generous spirit and kind heart, and we were a team from the get-go. They gave us a lot of freedom on the show, and shortly after my arrival, we partnered with the Arizona Humane Society. I started a segment called “Sunday’s Sweetheart,” which featured a different pet each week in need of a good home. Shortly before Justin and I separated, the spokeswoman for the humane society told me our segment was one
of their most successful placement programs. In fact, every animal we’d featured thus far had been adopted. My heart swelled when I heard that. At such a low point of my life, it was meaningful to feel like I was contributing to some positive change.

  This was also about the time Phil called Sam and me in to talk about ratings. We started throwing ideas at him about what we’d like to do to improve the show (we had four hours to fill, after all), but he stopped us. “Hold on!” he said. “I’m not prepared to add any more resources to the show. I just wanted to tell you nice job. ”

  Then he showed us the ratings. We were the number one show on weekend mornings against all the other network affiliates. Sam and I looked at each other, and we were simply grateful. We had no illusions this was all about us, but we appreciated the fact that the newscast had become even more than Phil had expected. It was a nice boost to my confidence at this tumultuous time. And it was nice knowing I was working with a woman I could trust. We had each other’s backs. That had been true from the start—personally and professionally.

  But while Sam knew things were dicey for me at home, she didn’t realize how much the situation had escalated. Shortly after Justin and I separated, I told her in confidence what was happening and that I was planning to file for divorce. I’ll never forget the look of sadness on her face.

  “Oh, no! Christi, I’m so sorry! What can I do?”

  Sam is a woman of faith. Her comforting support helped hold me up many a day, and her words of wisdom were invigorating. As Sam said, this wasn’t the end of my world; it was actually the beginning.

  As it turned out, I would need her encouragement more than I imagined. Things were about to get ugly.

  I assumed that once Justin and I were separated, I would feel safe. And while that was true to some extent, I hadn’t counted on the fact that abuse doesn’t just show up in person. It can come over the phone, in letters, via e-mail, and nowadays through social media. And some evenings, the phone was not my friend.

  The ring would startle me awake in the middle of the night, and I’d pick up to hear Justin railing at me. During one particularly heated conversation, he again accused me of cheating on him. But this time he got specific. He came up with some outrageous story about how Eric, an old boyfriend from high school, had left a message for me, saying he really needed to talk to me and that it was urgent.

  Justin growled, “I hope you had a good time screwing him when you were home!”

  “What are you talking about?” I cried. “I don’t even know where he lives or what he’s doing!” I hadn’t seen Eric in years.

  Justin went on to accuse and berate me, not even giving me a chance to defend myself. He was irrational and talking in circles. I was quite certain he’d been drinking.

  I knew he’d concocted the story, so I asked him to play the message for me.

  “Oh, I accidentally erased it,” he said.

  Only two minutes before, he told me he’d just gotten home and called me immediately after he heard it. Things weren’t adding up. Unless someone called and left a message over the old one, the original message wouldn’t be erased. Not to mention the fact that Eric didn’t have my number—and was happily married.

  “I’m sure while you were home you had a great time in bed with him, and I’ll bet Nanette couldn’t be happier!” he hissed.

  I actually laughed at this point because it proved how little this man knew about me—this man I’d been married to for four years. It was true that I had been engaged to Nanette’s brother at one point. But her brother was Scott. Yes, that man I’d met in college, not high school.

  And incidentally, Scott, too, was now happily married.

  I finally hung up on Justin and spent the rest of the evening kicking myself for allowing him to talk to me like that again. Why do I give him the opportunity?

  I read somewhere that in order to be walked on, you have to be lying down. Well, I wasn’t going to lie down any longer.

  I knew in that moment that I had to find the power God had given me. And I had to learn not just to stand in it but to stand tall.

  The next morning I got the chance when Justin called.

  He started in, as usual, but this time I’d had it. Before long we were screaming at each other.

  “Your anger is out of control!” I told him. “Even if Eric did call, I have no control over that. I haven’t seen or talked to him in more than four years. And here’s a bombshell for you—Nanette doesn’t even know Eric! He’s not her brother! I think you’ve created this scenario about me supposedly sleeping with him and had the gall to go ballistic about something completely fabricated. Do you realize this is why I left?”

  He yelled back, “I know somebody put this idea of divorce in your head, Christi!”

  I was livid. Now Justin was accusing Nanette, and I couldn’t hold my tongue. I knew the truth, and I wasn’t afraid to say it.

  “Yes, that’s true. You know who it was? It was you, Justin! Every time you got mad, you threatened to leave. You told me you never wanted to see me again unless it was in divorce court. You told me you were sorry you ever married me! So if you want someone to blame for putting that idea in my head, look in the mirror!”

  “I can’t take this anymore!” he shouted back. “Is this what you want? A divorce? Because I can’t hang in here much longer!”

  I couldn’t tell if he was spouting the words from sheer fury or if he was methodically choosing his verbiage. Whenever he said things like “I can’t hang in here much longer,” it frightened me because I wondered if he’d do something to harm himself. I didn’t know if it was his way of scaring me or if there was some truth to what he was saying. Either way, it really messed with my head.

  The next morning I was in Dr. Anderson’s office for an already-scheduled appointment. I was a wreck.

  Dr. Anderson had had a couple of sessions with Justin recently, and although I knew he couldn’t tell me specifics due to client confidentiality, I wanted to hear his perspective.

  It wasn’t promising.

  After I relayed my latest conversation with Justin to Dr. Anderson, he looked right at me. “Christi,” he said, “I’m concerned that Justin isn’t really dealing with things the way I hoped he would. He seems more concerned about how this is affecting him than about his own part in the separation. I haven’t heard him say, ‘I know I’ve screwed up.’ I haven’t seen him take any responsibility.”

  Oh, thank you, God! I said silently. In a strange way, it was a relief to hear Dr. Anderson say that. It meant someone else was observing the same thing I’d been witnessing for years. But I was so close to the situation I didn’t trust myself to make an unbiased assessment of Justin’s behavior. Now a professional was coming to the same conclusion I’d suspected.

  “What do I do now?” I asked. “I don’t think Justin is capable of changing until he realizes his part in this. And honestly, I don’t know that it’s ever going to happen.”

  Dr. Anderson paused and folded his hands together. Then he leaned back in his chair. “You know, the way someone has acted in the past can give us great insight into what kind of future to expect with them. I think this is one of those instances.”

  Yeah. Me too.

  It’s like Oprah says: “When people show you who they are, believe them.” And while Justin had his strong points, he certainly hadn’t admitted to his drinking, his abuse, or any role he played in this mess.

  What was frightening to me, as I thought about all this, was that maybe he didn’t even realize he’d been abusive. What if he thought the words he spewed at me were justified or normal? Or that he was somehow entitled to his tantrums? If this was the case, there would be no chance of turning this relationship around.

  And I had to be honest about myself, too. I knew that if I opened myself to him again, if I held on to hope and let him hurt me one more time, I was going to crack. I was literally going to crumble emotionally until there was nothing of the real me left.

  I wasn’
t willing to go to that place again.

  After talking with Dr. Anderson, I knew for sure that divorce was the only option. It was time to let go of the thin thread of hope I’d been hanging on to that Justin still might be willing to change, that our marriage could still be salvaged. The thread had snapped. There was nothing left to save.

  But first I needed to return to the four questions I had started to answer.

  I went home, sat down by myself, and fiercely searched for honesty in question number two.

  Why did I leave Justin?

  One, while I still loved him as a person, I wasn’t in love with him anymore. Now, I firmly believe that in some circumstances, love can be rekindled after it’s been lost. All couples go through seasons of closeness or routine. But with this kind of denial going on, this kind of lying and viciousness, I saw no chance that trust and closeness could be resuscitated.

  Two, I left him because I had finally started to love myself again. I’d heard so many threats, been called so many vulgar names, that I’d lost respect for myself. I thought I had no worth, no right to happiness.

  But somewhere along this journey, I remembered my roots, which brought me back to remembering who I was, who I’d always wanted to be. And that discovery pushed me closer to God. I knew I didn’t have all the answers, but I was starting to trust again. Trust God. Trust myself. Trust that there was a plan and purpose hidden behind this madness. I believed that in His timing, God would reveal what I needed to do next.

  His timing. Ugh! That was the daunting part. The whole waiting thing again.

  I was so used to being on a deadline at work and rushing to get things done. And with all the technology at our fingertips, we get used to instantaneous answers. That sense of immediacy melds into every aspect of our lives. We have to learn the discipline of slowing down.