Divorce: Freedom yet Pain

Is it possible to experience a great sense of freedom and yet have a wound that is still raw? I believe so. It is happening to me.

My wound, like in many people’s childhood experience, began with parents who did their best but didn’t realize how their love was conditional. The message was “do right” or get yelled at by Dad, who always corrected me. There was great pressure to perform. I feared doing poorly. I was driven to a lot of student leadership roles. Achieved straight A’s. But I never felt a part with people. In fact, felt unliked. I couldn’t rest in accomplishment. Had to keep performing for the image. Greatly unauthentic and also very anxiety ridden.

As a freshman at Kansas State, a providential meeting with a staff member of Campus Crusade for Christ happened. As a leader of my sorority, I saw this woman putting up posters. Not really knowing what it was, I offered to place posters in my sorority house. That began a relationship that shortly resulted in me receiving Christ and I began my walk with God. This was the missing piece for which I had been searching. I hadn’t found it in my liberal church that didn’t preach Gospel. For the first time in my life I had a relationship with Christ that gave me a calmness and peace that I had never experienced. I was discipled and grew quickly. Friendships took on new meaning. The Crusade program got a little legalistic and I got swept back into the performance trap. Guilt returned when I felt like I wasn’t witnessing enough. So I backed off somewhat but still nurtured my fellowship with God.

On to graduate school where I met my future husband. He was studying for the pastorate. We double and triple dated, usually around some ministry event. I didn’t realize it at the time but our whole relationship was ministry, not a real personal connection. We married and I discovered on the honeymoon that this was the beginning of a severely neglectful relationship..
I had to initiate anything martially. If anything was amiss, he’d blame me. I took it because it was my role – modeled to me by my mother and by her mother. I had no identity. I was Sam’s wife. Became suicidal, that was relieved somewhat through a drama club in which I performed. Friendships developed. I was affirmed. Sam hated it. It threatened him.
He was narcissistic and I was neurotic (to do everything just right.) Sam sucked me dry. For 30 years. I was the pastor’s wife who had to establish an image. The image Sam wanted me to have. He was into sports big time, so between that and the ministry, I received zip. To top it off, he began hitting me in bed – knowing what he was doing.

Counseling began. I began recovery. It felt like a second rebirth. I saw my destructive thinking and behavioral patterns. I became acquainted with the God who really loved me. The unloveable, unworthy Susan was transformed into a woman of God-acceptance, strength, voice and backbone. I started to heal, for myself, our children and for the church. The mealy, mousey woman became strong. Sam hated it. He lost control of me.

The more aggressively I sought God the more Sam turned to being with other women and with sports. He became so obnoxious and ineffective that the church fired him from his role as pastor. I just knew that would get his attention. NOT. His physical and emotional abuse accelerated, to the children and to me. I couldn’t take his emotional abuse to me and to the children anymore. After trying everything for years and giving him many chances to change and grow, I finally made plans to divorce.

His self-centeredness continues to reign supreme, mistreating the children and me. But at last I’m free. Happy. I grieve our loss. I’m still wounded, needing healing. I trust God to work that work within me. I know the wound is so deep that it will take time, involving God’s healing and my cooperation in forgiving.
I’ve accomplished one mission: to change the generational influence of women being abused by their husbands, handed to me from mother and her mother and who knows how far back. My daughter has married a wonderful, loving man who treats her with great respect. No more women abuse in my family.
As I heal, I am experiencing a greater authenticity of self, of expression, of freedom from neurotic performance and a greater intimacy with my Heavenly Father.
“Susan” annonymous