Be Careful Who You Marry is a true story done in the first person, that chronicles my short-lived marriage to a con-artist and abuser. I desribe the control, mind games, cheating, abuse, deception, pornography addiction, and the 6 children that destroyed my marriage. It almost destroyed me.
Excerpt
Forward
This is a true story, like stories of many women who have fallen in love with love and dared to dream only to have their dream turn into a nightmare. Many women chose to stay with sadistic and misogynistic men who do nothing more than prey on their emotions and who is always looking for their next victim, married or not. My story ended happily and quickly. I chose to leave as a newly wed while carrying my unborn child. I listened to the voice of the Lord and ran in the arms of safety. Sadly, most women that love these types of men end up physically abused or dead. ........
Introduction
Oh my God, I married the wrong person. Three days after marrying my husband I realized that I made a terrible mistake. It was as if I had sunk into an abyss. After all the boasting and bragging I did, there was nothing to show for it, but no one knew this except me. He wasn’t the man I made him out to be. I laid next to my husband thinking about getting a divorce and why didn’t I listen to the gut feeling I had in the beginning. Something was wrong with him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t want to hurt him. The children, I didn’t want to hurt them either. This is a mess, I thought. My pride rose up in me. I couldn’t leave despite the warnings, despite the fact that my mother and brother were right about him. I thought, I could fix this. I knew exactly what to do. Pray! Pray as hard as I could for God to fix this situation and make him the man that I should have married. God didn’t answer my prayer. How could He? I asked Him to bless my mess. Deep down inside I knew the answer to the problem but doing that would admit defeat. So I stayed in my mess. ......
Chapter 5
UH OH
The celebrating was over. No more honeymoon. No more delusions and visions of grandeur. No more wedded bliss. It was day three of our marriage and that old feeling arose in me. It’s an “uh oh” feeling. It’s a feeling of spilled milk. I couldn’t wrap my mind around how I got into this mess. The only solution to this problem was divorce, but I was against it. I didn’t want to be like the other 55% of new marriages ending in the first two years. We weren’t like them. We were different. Marriage is hard work, but it’s even harder when you marry the wrong person. It could even be deadly. I decided I was going to have a talk with my husband about my feelings. I was hoping for open arms, understanding, and wisdom. After all, he was older than I and wiser. As I began to engage him in my worry he reiterated our vows. “For better, for worse,” he said and more. Soon I was listening to a lecture on love and commitment. Inwardly, I said to myself, I should have never said anything. An hour had passed before he stopped talking. At the end I couldn’t remember what I asked him. I walked out of the room feeling like I asked him a dumb question. Then I remembered. I asked, “Do you think we made a mistake?” What I should have said was, I made a mistake and now I have to leave you. Essentially, that is what I was thinking. He answered my question with a no and went along with his day.
This book has been eight years in the making. It is mostly a jumble of thoughts written down in old spiral notebooks and hidden in the bottom drawer underneath various manuals for software packages and hardware long since turned obsolete.
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