I don't think most people understand the dynamics of a controlling man and how a relationship evolves.  I am in no way making excuses for staying married longer than I probably should have. I was 17 when I met my husband, and we got married when I was 20. I moved over 800 miles away to where he and his family lived, and away from my family.  We were supposed to get married the year prior when I was 19.  What happened then and why our wedding was called off should have been and WAS, reason enough, for me to be concerned.  I came up to MD to visit him, after he got out of the Marines.  His family had a shower for me, and so I could meet the rest of his family.  Wedding invitations had been sent out for a June wedding, the bridesmaid dresses purchased and plans moving forward.  He worked 3-11, and I waited for him to get off work to show him the nice shower presents. One of them was a scale, and he told me to get on the scale to see how much I weighed. (I was not overweight) average sized. But of course, I was self-conscious and I teasingly said no, I don't want to. I laughed about it.  He then demanded on get on the scale.  I asked him if he was joking, he said no, I am telling you to do what I said now.  I said, No, I won't.  He hit the scale with his fist and broke it. I ran upstairs and locked the bedroom door. He went to his room and that was that.

The next day, his younger sister was at school, his older sister and his parents were at work. When he got up I told him I didn't appreciate the way he acted the night before. He then started tormenting me.  It was crazy behavior, mocking me, laughing and then alternately saying he was sorry. He tore up all the pictures he had of me and threw them in the trash, and said I was trash.  I called his older sister, I called my mother.  I told them to get a plane ticket for me, I wanted to go home.  I don't remember all the exact details, but I stayed locked in a bedroom until he went to work and when his sister came home and took me to the airport.  I called the wedding off. I told his mother to return all the shower gifts. 

How did I end up marrying him?  Months after, he kept calling me.  One of his sister's kept calling me and acting concerned and telling me he (her brother) had issues. She called and told me he was seeing someone else. Who was, oh by the way, very overweight! and nothing like you (me) I had started going out with my friends and seeing other people, and actually met someone very nice I had gone to HS with.  Six months went by, and I was at work one night and getting ready to go out after I got off for the night. My girlfriend asked me what I was doing after work and I told her I had plans.  She said, well I wasn't supposed to tell you but Marty's here. He drove all the way here to surprise you. I honestly wasn't that happy about it, flattered yes, to some extent that he drove over 800 miles to see me. But not happy since I had other plans. She told me he was in his car right across the street, waiting for me to get off work.  I had to explain to my friend what was going on, and he said, that's OK, he understood and we'd go out another time.  We never did. Three days later, Marty convinced me he was really sorry and that he would never treat me the way he had ever again. I didn't say yes to getting married until about the 100th time he insisted it would never happen again. He wore me down, I don't know why I gave in and said yes.

I think he drove down to talk me into getting married because his mother wasn't too happy and he needed to do the right thing for her, not me.  I'm sure his mother was none to happy about our wedding being called off and the fact that he was still living at home after getting out of the Marines two years prior.  His mother was always worried about appearances also. Maybe I'm wrong.  I was 19, he was 23. I didn't see or know what abuse was. I just knew I loved the NICE person I had met. I didn't know the other (mean person) he hid. And, he became very good at hiding the other person. 29 years later, 12 years after he was diagnosed with MS, I saw the pattern.  This is the other thing, they can go a long time without doing something that is overtly mean. There were long periods of time that I didn't see the mean person, and also, I now know, that he just found different ways to get what he needed to from me to feel in control.

And it was about control. If he hit me, he promised he would never hit me again. If he tormented me, he'd promise he'd never do that again. If he belittled me, he'd promised he wouldn't do it again. It was always something different he would do each time. If he yelled about something, he'd say he was tired or it was the dog's fault or it was this person's fault or it was my fault.  I made a lot of excuses for some of the things he did for a long time. I made the excuses to myself, not other people.  I had to be a better person and then he wouldn't get mad at me. I had to do things his way, and then he wouldn't get mad at me. It's not something you see happening, and it's not like I didn't call him on some of the things he did. I did, I would always talk to him and explain how what he did made me feel. He would listen, and then it would be OK. For a while, a week, a month a year. I would forget about each instance and put it behind us and move on with our lives.  Years went by and there were happy times. It wasn't all bad all the time. The happiest times were after our first son was born.

I think we get caught up in how things are supposed to be, I saw unhappy people in unhappy marriages and I would say to myself, I'm pretty lucky. My husband doesn't drink, he's a good provider, he has a job, he doesn't do drugs, he's not having affairs.  And, so then, it would seem pretty good. I thought I was happy most of the time, really. Until he couldn't hide the mean person at all.