Tag Archives: Marriage

A joyful heart makes a cheerful face, but when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.  Proverbs 15:13

I know how hard it is to be in that in-between place, wondering whether you are simply going through a difficult season in your relationship or whether the relationship is truly abusive. If this is where you find yourself, the assessment I have provided below is a good place to start.

Every relationship has an air, a dynamic that engenders an array of thoughts and feelings reflective of it, whether peace, contentment and safety, or fear, confusion and chaos. If you are living in an abusive relationship, you have probably worked hard to convince yourself that the thoughts and feelings that trouble you are unique to your situation or are perhaps over exaggerated when, in fact, those natural responses may be telling you that you are sharing your home with an abuser.

This quick personal evaluation should enable you to more closely assess the kinds of thoughts and feelings that characterize your lifestyle and your relationship.

“So husbands ought also to love their own wives as their own bodies. He who loves his own wife loves himself; for no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ also does the church…”  Ephesians 5:28-29

I recently received an e-mail from one of my contacts requesting feedback regarding intimacy with an abuser.  I tend to shy away from such sensitive matters, but in light of the pertinence of her question, I am certain that others may similarly avoid discussing these things.  I also know that it is in the darkness that fears and injuries fester, and there is an appropriate time to draw them into the light.

So, the question is this:  How can we expect to feel and respond toward our abuser sexually?  This is a multi-faceted question, and I have decided to offer my two cents based on three distinct but inseparable factors:  the draw, the danger, and the dance. 

Journal Entry:

March 11, 2003

 I now look at life differently.  My children are more precious to me than ever.  I love to hear them laugh and to daily tell them I love them and kiss them good-night.  Colors seem more vivid.  The breeze on my skin is fresh and invigorating.  I find myself smiling for no good or apparent reason.  It is as though I have peeled off my old life, and a brand new one is emerging.  At 43, can life really begin again?  If so, I pray that I am living proof of it.

 My emotions are all so intense — whether joy or sadness, peace or turmoil.  Everything I am feeling seems to have been impassioned by some unseen force.  What is going on?  What has happened to me?  Is this a natural phenomenon that all people experience when they have gone through a tragic divorce, or a short-term phase in life which leads only back to mediocrity?  God forbid.  Is it because my depression and fear had held me in bondage for so long that now I am finally experiencing the true range of emotions which were trapped beneath the surface?  That is exactly how it feels.  And, I fear the possibility of going back into that dreadful prison.  Even feeling the pain in its fullness far surpasses the numbness which came from locking it inside, running from it, believing I could somehow override it. 

 So, this is what life is like.  What angels long to peer into.  I’ll take it.

From time to time, an abuse victim will ask me, “Do you believe our relationship can be saved?”  Instantly, I feel the weight of it, for the question is filled with untold emotion and self-doubt.

I have a pretty good idea where she is coming from.  If she is anything like I was, the abuse victim has staked her future on a hope that she can somehow hold things together while helping the abuser to work through his issues, believing she might possess some intangible quality that will ultimately move him to address not only his unhealthy behaviors, but his very nature.  So for the victim, it is the investment of herself she seeks to redeem, as surely it would be a terrible waste to forfeit that which has consumed so much of her life’s energy if, by some miracle, a favorable outcome may be imminent. 

But, what if it becomes apparent that all of her efforts have amounted to nothing?  Submitting to such a hard truth will inflict pain enough.  The admission will add another layer of uncertainty to her already stressful life, and she will face the judgment of many who will hastily conclude that it was she who failed. 

No list holds the power to change a person’s heart.

It finally arrives – the heartbreaking yet liberating moment when you simply cannot live the lie for one more minute.   The loneliness, shame and exhaustion can no longer be rationalized or minimized.  There is nothing left to sort out or piece together or hope for, and you finally break through the wall of dysfunction you had foolishly accepted as normal.  And you leave.

 As the first days pass, you find yourself moving tenuously through the haze of disillusionment and exhaustion and catching a glimpse of clear sky, relishing every breath of free air and then falling into bed at night in peace.  If you are lucky, in the abuser’s absence, the numbness of soul to which you have become accustomed gives way, and you find yourself savoring the joys of a few days, hours or minutes free of constant fear and confusion.