His Weapons Turned Against Him...
“I’ll cut you up into little pieces before the police can get here.”
My husband had a knife and was chasing me and our three children across the street to the neighbor who had agreed to receive us. Few could believe that a minister would behave this way.
I was raised Catholic and knew early that that system did not honor my relationship with Christ. I had studied theology and philosophy at a Catholic college, having received a full tuition scholarship. No matter how I excelled, I was never going to be equal in that system. I married minister, thinking I would have a basis for spiritual equality in ministry with more emphasis on the Bible.
How wrong I was. Years later I would come to understand that using religion to control women is a global practice. Using faith abstractions and the Bible in verbal abuse, my husband increasingly used every form of mental, emotional and spiritual coercion used by abusers. There were even physical threats and bruises as well, once when I was pregnant. When that happened, I left with my kids for the night. Of course he would cry and plead for us to return. And it would start all over again, true to the cycle.
For ten years I donated my salary to his “mission”, an organization serving urban churches. If I wanted to buy myself shoes or slacks, I was condemned as faithless, misusing the money God was allowing me to earn for the work. As with many women, I was called Jezebel, Satan, an agent of the Devil, or any other evil character he could think of any time I had my own thoughts and feelings.
Although a high achieving English major, his praise of my abilities soon evaporated and he criticized me as being a poor communicator. He compared me unfavorably with every woman we met in the community. I couldn’t do anything right anymore. I was a derelict mother, a failed housewife, a burden in his ministry. And of course would not do what other women would do who loved their husbands, in his words, in bed.
Accusing me of being unfaithful, he at first would not accept our first child, a son, as his own, which cut me to the quick. He constantly accused me of being unfaithful. After our second child, a daughter, was born, he refused to work. At one point we were living on less than $500 a month. He continued to promote the mission, which was a scam, including convincing a former professor to donate half her social security check to it. He maxed out as many credit cards as he could in my name.
Seeking help from churches was futile. As many women can attest, I was told by ministers in 3 different denominations to believe more, love more, pray more, do more and more and more. Just don’t divorce. He urged me to go back for an advanced degree in communication and then in counseling to improve the ministry. In reality, he wanted me to earn more money for him to control.
This tactic backfired on him and served to help me become free and remove our children from his toxicity.
In the counseling studies, I learned about projection, and realized every accusation he hurled at me was true of him. He was the one cheating on me. He was the one who was faithless. When he said I couldn’t communicate, what he meant was he only wanted to hear “Yes, dear.” And the mission he wanted the money for was him.
In the communication study, I learned about communication games and how to cut them off. I learned about asserting myself. I learned how to analyze behaviors. Both degrees centered the importance of healthy communication in relationships and what that would look like.
After 10 years of accepting blame, and 5 years trying to get him to accept help, I knew I could not free myself of hatred until I left. I couldn’t connect with Christ's love and live under constant attack.
I had turned myself inside out and upside down, asking God to tell me what to do. No answers. When I began praying either for him to change or help me get out, I began getting answers. So I knew it wasn’t working because it wasn’t meant to work. Only the Holy Spirit could work with him. It wasn’t my job. For the next 3 years I prepared to leave with Plans A, B and Z.
It’s hard to admit that the man I loved and admired for his eloquence, charisma and intellect only wanted me for sex and money. In the church I had elevated the man at the podium. Now I saw what the robe was hiding. A wolf.
By living off of me, he became financially dependent on me. When I got him to admit he was cheating, I became psychologically free. My son was 11 and began to hate his dad. There was a rifle under the bed. The damage to my children that I was seeing told me I had stayed too long. There was no benefit in all of us suffering because he would not get any help. In his view, everyone else was wrong. No one could advise him on anything.
I had saved money in a separate account and my teaching salary for the summer was going to be deposited in a lump sum. He talked the young teller into giving him the money in the account, although his name was not on it. But I had left twice before under emergency conditions and was not going to let him drive me out again. I had all the other arrangements and decided to leave without the money. I had a job waiting in 3 months. I would sprint.
We left with only what was in our suitcases. But the first night of sleeping in peace was worth it. I worked minimum wage and got food donations.
Some days I didn’t think it would be enough. But a kind coworker gave me a ride to work. Her sister watched the children. I knew, though, that it was right for me to leave and God would provide. The worst day after we left was better than the best day living with him.
So weaponizing my faith against me stopped working. I had a strong faith in Christ from a child on. Although I spent too many years listening to his attacks, that never left me.
He should not have encouraged me to get the degrees so he could have financial aid money. He should not have stopped working and become dependent on the money I gave him. He should not have bet against God in my life.
~ Shirley F.
Postscript: Years later, after I had raised my children, I took the time to compile the tools and understanding I had learned to strengthen in place before leaving. I published the 7 levels of confusion that are the maze of religious domestic abuse in a self-help workbook for women, Redemption from Biblical Battering. Readers who complete it report not going back or into another abusive relationship and the ability to leave without feeling guilty. Available on Amazon and Kindle. Read more about it at ShirleyFessel.com. Readers who are starting a new life can apply for an annual Thriver Grant, awarded in October.