New beginnings.

At the moment, I'm struggling to embrace the changes.

Part of the problem is that I thought our relationship would never end.  It always seemed like no matter how bad things were between us, we found our way back to each other. Only, given the circumstances, that's not going to happen anymore.  

For many years, I overlooked the signs, his flaws.  Loving him as deeply as I did, I made just as many excuses for him as he made for himself.  Because of that, our teamwork in denying his culpability, I feel the guilt he never did.  So many of his actions were mistaken for love and devotion that he managed to manipulate and control me while I rolled over and allowed it, completely exposing my underbelly to him.

Soon, I had quit my job to help him pursue his dream and became completely dependent upon him financially.  Then we married and my dependence was complete.  We had a daughter who had the distinction of being born incredibly small...record setting small.  With that came much extra care, much stress and strain.  He couldn't be the center of my world.  He had to transition to making her, making his family, the center of his.  I'm not sure that ever happened.

The next act of control was dressed up as a gift: my cell phone was added to his plan.

"Now I own your number," he said.  "You can never leave me."

In response, I laughed.  It was funny.  How could owning my cell number ever keep me from leaving if I really wanted to go?

After that, it was the vehicle.  We traded mine in, he added cash earned from the business we both worked, and when all was said and done...registered and secured in his name, he reminded me of my place once more.

"You can't leave with my car.  I guess you are good and stuck now."

Unfortunately for him, I never thought like that.  Towards the end, when enough was too much, I reminded him of that.  I told him that I was only with him because I wanted to be, that I didn't need him.  By then, it was true.  I was an author, self-published on all the major platforms: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Apple, and Smashwords.  My success could afford me a modest lifestyle.  And hadn't he always promised to take care of his child?

So, one Saturday night just before Thanksgiving, it all ended between us.  After more than a month of strained relations, after I had already filed for and dropped one order of protection, and after I discovered that he was back to all of his old ways...it was finally, forever, completely over.

"Go in the house," he commanded.  "You are in time out."   

Of course, as a grown woman, I wasn't one to go willingly into time out or anywhere else I didn't want to go.  That's why I refused.  When my objections were met with threats of violence, I finally headed inside.  Though it had been years, he had hit me once before. One miserable night that we had both vowed to forget suddenly came rushing back to me.  I was tough, but I didn't always want to be.  Just because I could take a hit and remain standing, it didn't mean that I wanted to ever repeat the experience.  So, I went into the house...left him stewing in the garage.

Ironically, I went to push the button and publish my latest novel, Shards of My Heart, the story of the last month of our life...his downward spiral, the abuse, the challenges I had faced, how hard I had tried to get him help...it was all in there.  When I was done, fifteen minutes later, I ventured back out into the garage...and he was gone.

The Find My Phone app told me he was at a local bar.  That was my cue, my sign, my chance.  I left.  It took me less than half an hour to pack everything I needed for the next couple of weeks.  After all, I had already followed the doctor's orders and made ditch bags for both me and my daughter.  Our important documents were already together.  Despite the fear in my stomach, the pounding of my heart, the tears that welled up in my eyes, I knew this was the right thing to do...even if it was incredibly painful.  Still, despite everything, I didn't want to leave him.

After all this time, I still wanted to believe that the man I had fallen in love with was still inside him somewhere.  If it had just been me, I probably would have stuck it out, but I had Kenna...this precious soul that needed my protection.  Her father was simply too dangerous, this loose cannon.  Life with him wasn't like walking on egg shells.  It was more like walking through a mine field, never knowing when one misstep was going to blow up in my face.  Suddenly, that was over.

With a heavy heart, I called the police, filed a report, and took out a warrant for his arrest.  The charge was communicating threats.  That was Sunday.  The following day was spent in court.  All of it.  From the time I filled out all the paperwork and was given a hearing on the 1:30pm docket, to the afternoon of waiting to plead my case to the judge.

Want to feel terrible about life?  Tell your story in court, have the judge pick it apart, dissect it for all to hear, then watch the reactions of those in the room.  I'm pretty sure I was clinging to shreds of dignity by the time I left.  Kenna was in the court day care, her first experience of that nature...ever.  I had no choice.  Then, with my copy of the order in hand, I collected her, gathered my belongings from a friend's house, picked up my sixteen year old son from his father's place, and headed to my mom's place on Florida.  It promised to be a nine hour drive from North Carolina.

I'm not sure where I was or when the idea started to take root, but soon enough I realized what I would need to do to recover.  Time and again, because of the situation I had been labeled a victim.  That doesn't even come close to describing how I see myself.  It was a distinction that I was at odds with.  Instead, I saw myself as a survivor.  Now, I would survive in style, doing what I love.  Somehow I would find a way to help others, other mothers with special needs children who weren't in a position to escape to a shelter, who needed medical equipment and supplies that couldn't be found just anywhere.  

The role that fit me best was always one where I provided hope, and spread love.  

It was time for me to start a foundation.  Meet the Destination Sweet Haven Foundation.  Our mission is to help those with a broken past build a brighter future.  We will provide long term housing solutions, therapy, and counseling.  Soon, we will have Sweet Havens all over the US.  

Help us achieve our goals.