The Words My Attorney Said To Me As We Left Court Have Stayed With Me Since 1999
Photo Courtesy Of Author After I called the police to report the child abuse my ex had inflicted on my daughters, I was served with what I thought was a subpoena to testify. But it was not a subpoena to testify; they were charging me with neglect alongside charging him with child abuse. This is apparently a common charge brought against a woman who is aware of abuse, but hasn’t yet reported it — just another way the court system re-victimizes victims of domestic violence.
When child protective services showed up at my house to take my report, they told me they would take my children if I went back to my then-husband. It’s probably the only thing that kept me from getting pulled back into the abuse cycle with him.
I was 19. He was 31. My mom hired an attorney to represent me; I had no way of doing so myself. I honestly can’t imagine what other women in my position do.
Actually, I can: They are assigned a public defender who often cares very little about the outcome. As it was, my mom’s attorney had helped our family with many legal matters and was truly invested in the outcome. His defense for me was more or less that I was young and dumb.
And he wasn’t wrong. I truly had no idea about the cycle of abuse. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. He was my husband. He said he was sorry. I gave him more chances than I should have, but all told, we were married on September 11, 1998, and I had moved out of the house by October 1999.
I’ll never forget what my attorney said as we left court the day they dropped the charges
Photo from Author
Luckily, there was no real trial. I appeared in front of the judge, my attorney asked the prosecution to drop the charges — because I was 'young and dumb' — and they did. At the time, I don’t think I fully understood how lucky I was. I imagine they were misdemeanor charges — I sincerely doubt they believed I intentionally hurt or neglected my children — but that could have followed me throughout my life.
As it was, I had signed myself up for domestic violence counseling before I was court-ordered to go. I knew something was wrong with me that I would “allow” the abuse. I’ve always taken on blame that isn’t necessarily mine to take.
But that day, as we were walking out of the courthouse, my attorney, Paul, said to me, “I just don’t understand why you young, pretty girls choose these creeps.”
Paul passed away back in 2009 from cancer, but I’ve never forgotten what he did for me, and I’ve never forgotten his words. It caught me off guard at the time, and I didn’t have any idea what to say.
If my attorney were alive today, though, this is what I’d tell him
Obviously you don’t understand it, Paul, but assuming that we young, pretty girls are the ones picking the “creeps” is part of the problem. Why didn’t you think to yourself: How did this creep talk this young girl into marrying him? Because I can assure you, it was more the latter than the former.
I worked with the man who would become my first husband. He targeted me. I found him old and “lame,” as my 17-year-old self would have said it. But he would find me on my breaks, and I was too nice to be firm with him. Girls back then were taught to be nice even when we were uncomfortable. He offered to massage my hands sometimes. We worked for the IRS and spent most of the day typing.
I would say no. But he wouldn’t listen to my no. He would do it anyway. I know now this is a common tactic used by abusers to discover whether or not a victim will put up a fight if they challenge your boundaries. But I didn’t know that at the time. I just knew it made me uncomfortable — but I felt sorry for him.
He would tell me stories about his wife leaving him, about how horrible she was to him, trying to keep his daughter from him. He even told me they’d had “altercations”. We didn’t have Google back then, and it wasn’t a term I was familiar with. To hear him tell it, she was often aggressive towards him, and he would defend himself. I’m sure he saw himself as the victim. He was a perpetual victim.
When I spoke to his first ex-wife directly after our divorce, she told me about the times he would hold a pillow over her face to be quiet, the times he would strangle her, the time he pulled her out of the shower and kicked her with hiking boots as she lay naked on the floor, shouting something unintelligible about his mother. He was actually clinically insane.
The first time we were intimate was no different. I said no. He didn’t listen to my no. He’d already established that I wouldn’t put up a fight. He’d been testing me all along. After the fact, I said things like, “I probably wasn’t very clear,” “I didn’t fight,” “I didn’t kick and scream."
I didn’t know there were more options than just fight or flight. I experienced both freeze and fawn. He knew he did not have my consent. I clearly said no. I even pushed him away. He just didn’t care. I was young and naive and scared. And I was taught in early childhood to be a victim.
So to be accused by my attorney of 'choosing' a creep was hurtful and ignorant
I didn’t choose him at all. I found him gross. But after we’d been together, I thought it was better to be in a relationship with him than to have a one-night stand. That's what purity culture taught me. I ended up moving in with him when I got furloughed and wasn’t sure how I’d pay my rent.
I started realizing he was abusive after living with him for about a month. I was looking for a new apartment when I found out I was pregnant with his child. He pressured me into marrying him. And just like with every other interaction between us, I caved to whatever he wanted.
I found out I was pregnant on Tuesday; we were married on Friday. My mom said she’d never seen a sadder wedding. I cried at my wedding, and not in a good way.
I would call my mom almost every day while he was at work and say, “I’ll just stay married to him until our daughter is 18.” She’d say, “Are you sure it’s worth it?” But I struggled as a single mother of one; I had no idea how I would ever manage to be a single mother of two at 19 years old.
My other daughter — the one I had in high school before I met him — has sensitive skin, like really sensitive skin. Even as an adult, if she wears jeans, her skin breaks out from the nickel in the button.
As a two-year-old, she was constantly in nothing but her diaper. She hated wearing clothes. I didn’t have much problem with it — she was two. But my ex would throw huge fits about it. I remember begging her when he was on his way home from work, “Please put on clothes; he’ll be so mad when he gets here if you’re naked again.”
I was terrified of him. I still don’t know what his obsession was, other than he had to be in control of everything. One time, my daughter was acting up. We were at my mom’s house, so I put her in the car, and we drove home. He wanted me to put her in time out when we got home twenty minutes later. I felt like since she was two, she wouldn’t connect the punishment to her previous behavior, so I refused.
He was so mad at me for not putting her in time out; he was screaming and foaming at the mouth. He threw a lamp and then picked up one end of the couch and threw it as best he could in my direction. His watch flew off his wrist at some point, and the links broke as it hit the wall. Then he stormed out.
Sometimes when he’d storm out, he’d just work himself up more and get angrier and come back with even more abuse to inflict. That time he came back and was oddly silent. He moved the couch back into place and fixed the lamp as much as he could. He repaired his watch. It was disconcerting to say the least, and obvious he’d done it many times before.
I lived in misery almost from the moment I met him until our daughter turned 18, even though I left him when she was five months old.
So no, Attorney Paul, I didn't 'choose a creep'
I wasn’t into “bad boys” who treated me poorly. I simply wasn’t prepared for what to do when one found me. Because of all the things my parents taught me as I was growing up, how to avoid an abuser just wasn’t one.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, the National Domestic Violence Hotline has advocates available 24 hours a day, every day of the year, with support in more than 200 languages. Call 1-800-799-7233, text START to 88788, or chat at thehotline.org.
Catherine "Kate" Wilder has turned her rough beginnings as a teenage welfare mom into motivation to get educated (B.S. Accounting, M.S. Taxation) and into a successful career. Now the mother of four adults, and grandmother of two littles, she works in Corporate America and writes on relationships, parenting, and overcoming trauma.
