One Year Later... After Fleeing Domestic Violence!

Click to listen to The Single Wife Life Podcast, Episode 6 

I'd taken a job over an hour away from where I lived. Partly because I'd set my career goals on the organization as I admired the great work being done there and within the community overall, around diversity, equity and inclusion. The other part was simply because I wanted to move. I never really had plans of staying in the small-country town in Michigan that had become my home for almost 10 years. So when the opportunity of employment elsewhere presented itself, I jumped. 

Problem is, when you're married, you can't jump in whatever direction you please, whenever you please. Well, I'd been meeting opposition for years and I was the only person who wanted to move forward and progress. Inwardly, I was on a journey to have a much better life than what my children and I had experienced. As such, I took the job in another town, was willing to commute two to three hours per day, and had the mindset that I'd figure out the rest of the plan later. 

I'd been longing to talk with someone for some time about my situation- all hell had broken loose and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to deal with the chaos in my life! So when lunch break came, I put my out-of-office notification on my email and phone, knowing that I'd be a bit longer than an hour. That moment changed my life for the better...

We often hear how God works in mysterious ways! Well, the fact that I'd been discreetly doing my research on domestic violence (DV); always while away from my home, because you're warned to do so for safety reasons, as it might mean more trouble for you should your violator find out what you're looking into. I was saving articles in the cloud to go back and reference when I needed reassurance, and making private phone calls to the National Domestic Violence Hotline, just to confirm what I'd already known; that I was in a domestically violent relationship. 

(Alerts you'll often see when you click on DV awareness websites, because your search can be traced.)

I had already begun to confide small bits and pieces of my life to a couple trusted people and I was ready to make this lunch break count. As fate would have it, quite literally, just a few short steps across the street from my office would take me down the path I needed to go. 

You see, the YWCA domestic violence center was catty-corner from my job. So, against every piece of pride within me, I walked across the street and whispered in a low voice (out of embarrassment, I suppose), to the receptionist, that I needed to talk to a domestic violence advocate and was taken to a waiting room... where I sat alone.

Full confession, I felt crazy at the thought of confiding in an absolute stranger. I felt like I could be overly-exaggerating the details of my life and thought that the advocate would think I was being dramatic. I made so many excuses in my head as to why I shouldn't be sitting in that room at that exact moment. And it seemed like I waited forever, which totally gave me all-the-more reason to leave... "I've got to get back to work," I thought.

(I used to take photos of bruises, burns, black eyes and so on (and hide them) just to prove to myself that I wasn't crazy because he'd tell me things like he really did love me, he was just working on himself, he'd get better, I shouldn't have provoked him, and so on. What I came to realize, is that if you have to take pictures to prove that you're not crazy, then your situation is indeed, that crazy!) 

(The first image above is a bruise on my neck from him pulling me down the stairs backwards as I walked away. If you know me, you know I love wearing scarves... and that's what he grabbed a hold of as he yanked me downward and broke my glasses, in front of my kids who were standing at the top of the stairs reaching to save me... all because I didn't make it home on the city bus "on-time" after work).

(These images above are after a huge blowout on Thanksgiving 2016, I believe. My eye was initially swollen shut after being jumped by my abuser and his family member and show the healing process that took place over about six weeks.)

This image above shows a burn and bruise I sustained when I was thrown into the heater one morning simply because I asked for a ride to work as I was running late. As you can see, the injury was as big as my hand. The heater melted through my pants and skin. There was no prior argument. I hadn’t raised my voice; there wasn’t too much to suggest that he’d wake up on the “wrong side of the bed” that morning. I simply upset my abuser by waking him up too early and he didn’t want to be bothered.)

But then, a woman came in, sat down with me, talked to me in a soft voice, passed me Kleenex for my tears and actually shared her own personal tragedy-to-triumph story. She spoke of how she'd fled domestic violence from hundreds of miles away, decades before with several children, and how it was the best decision she could have ever made in her life and for the lives of her children. She assured me that if she could do it with her many kids, I could do it with two! She told me the domestic violence shelter had no openings, but if she could get a bed for me and my kids, she asked if I would take it. Shocked and surprised at how quickly this was all moving, I hesitantly said, "Yes", and almost in a daze, I walked back to my job; almost three hours had passed. 

When I got off work shortly after, on my commute back, the trees seemed blurry and noise of traffic around me seemed muffled. I can't even recall if I had the music playing on the radio. My only thought was how I was going to pull this off. You see, I'd already had my go-bags packed for me and my kids. The bags had been packed for months in my vehicle, discreetly stashed away for this very moment. I had clothes, toys, important documents like the kid's school and shot records and birth certificates. I had learned from researching that these were the things I'd need, should I muster up enough energy and nerve to leave.

It wasn't 30 minutes into my commute that my phone rang. I didn't recognize the phone number, but I knew the area code, so I answered. The caller on the other end was the advocate I'd met with a few short hours before, informing me that she was indeed able to get me and my children out of the situation we were in, and if I was serious about getting out myself, I'd need to tell her right then so that she could save the open spot at the shelter. Otherwise, she'd have to give the spot away to someone else. I gulped, took a deep breath and told her to save the bed and that I'd be back to town in a few hours.

This was all happening in lightening speed. To think, I almost didn't allow myself to take my lunch break and go talk with the domestic violence center. And now I was actually about to make the move!!! The rest of the commute gave me some time to think of next steps so when I got back that day in the presence of my abuser, I'd devised my plan. 

I gathered my children and simply said that I was going to the store. From there, I'd already mapped out the rural backroads. I was very cautious to not take the highway directly back because I didn't want to be followed if he caught on to what I was doing. He'd frequently do things like follow me to the store just to make sure I was going where I said I was going. In his eyes, I was always a liar, a cheater and he always had to be suspicious of me. The only thing consistent about him was his rage and the need to control everything; including my whereabouts, who I talked to/communicated with on the phone, what I was doing and with whom, on social media, and everywhere. So as a safety precaution, I'd made plans to take back roads back to the shelter.

That car ride was one of the scariest feelings I've felt to-date. In some ways, it felt even scarier than the abuse over the years, knowing that it was going to happen again and again. I knew I was taking a huge step, but the part of not-knowing what was next took my breath away. I had my kids in the back seat, but I still had work tomorrow. What was I going to do with them since I had to work? I was checking into a shelter, the school year was approaching, I only had enough money to get by for so long... I didn't have much to look forward to in the life I was leaving, but at least I was familiar with that life.

My daughter was the first to begin asking questions. "Mom, where are we going?" I ignored her questions for as many miles as I could. Then her tears began as she put two and two together. Then her tears erupted into wailing which set my son off into tears and a frantic frenzy. I'd been trying to hide my own tears the entire time, but by this point, I was unable to do so. The only thing I could do was assure them that everything would be okay, exclaiming how sorry mommy was for everything that had happened, and that I needed them to calm down. You see, I'm pretty much night blind and by this time, dusk was turning to dark, I was on unfamiliar back roads, passing homes with confederate flags waving in the wind; the roads seemed twisted and never-ending and the ever-streaming tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision, were all safety hazards!

That night I drove so slowly!!! In fact, the trip, a little over an hour, seemed to take about three hours total. I knew I couldn't stop for a bathroom break or snacks or to catch my breath or gather my bearings, because it was all too risky. I just drove, slowly, praying the entire time for sight and vision and to make it safely to our destination, whatever that meant, whatever that looked like, for the new chapter in our lives. 

The kids eventually calmed down by the time we pulled into the parking lot of the shelter. Scared of having been followed, scared of checking into a shelter, scared of what lay ahead on the other side of those doors, scared for tomorrow and what would happen with my job because I had to call off... scared, scared, scared... scared, we walked into that building... and I'm so blessed to say that I've not looked back.

One year later! One year stronger! One year better! 

My kids and I are all-the-more blessed. That's not to say, at all, that this road has been easy, because it has not. And as a mom, I've worn the burden of shame that I even allowed them to see me in such a terrible situation. But God has kept His hand over our lives and I am so grateful for that! Granted, I'm not fully where I want to be in terms of a career, my home, my vehicle and so on, as I'm in a phase of rebuilding my life. But I'm definitely not where I was a year ago... I am exactly where I need to be :-). And I'm grateful that God thinks so highly of me to keep His loving arms around me, continually reminding me that I'm worthy of greatness.

Lastly, I leave you with this inspirational song, This is My Exodus... It truly solidified the need to get out of that situation AND God's approval of me leaving it. YouTube recommended it one day on my commute from work and when I clicked on it, I balled... like, for days... I played it on repeat nonstop! As a spiritual person, I can often box myself into how God won't be pleased with me because of whatever man-made reasoning I've developed and followed throughout the years! My eyes were opened the night I checked into the DV shelter when alongside me, checking in, was a first lady of a church 👀; a pastor's wife! I knew then, that God wanted better for me and I wasn't the only woman of God who shared in such experiences.

One thing I've come to understand is that a person doesn't just wake up one day and find themselves in a domestically violent relationship! There's often a root cause; red flags we ignored, barriers and boundaries we allowed someone to cross time and time again; thinking lower of ourselves than we should. There's often a progression of life events that land someone in such circumstances. 

For me, it was unresolved childhood trauma that I didn't even recognize I was still carrying until a few months before I'd left. I'd repressed some things for 25 years that didn't resurface until I was 33! You can click here to read/watch how certain trauma impacted my life when younger; ultimately leading me to making terrible and unfavorable decisions in my life as a grown woman. The end result was that I was left settling for way too little in life. 

I bring this point up to encourage whoever needs to hear it, that deep diving into oneself and the past is often critical to examining oneself today! And you may not know where to begin. I'd recommend reaching out to a spiritual advisor AND a licensed/trained therapist. The reality is that most insurances now cover mental health, including Medicaid, because society now recognizes and understands that mental health plays such a critical role in everything we do. 

P.s. To my black community, military community and whatever other community that stigmatizes mental health: Please be willing to let go of preconceived notions of what mental health means and how you'll be treated if you seek out help. We think that by acknowledging we need help, it represents a sign of weakness or that all problems can be prayed away. God made therapy and therapist for us to utilize as necessary!!!

Anyhoo, thanks for listening and taking the time to hear my story. My hope is that someone else can read this and realize that domestic violence is absolutely real, all-too-common and that they too, can come out! 

One year later... Here's to August 22, 2019 and Cheers to August 22, 2020 🙌! 

#InnerThoughts

#OutwardExpression

#JustJacQuaye

A Few Resources:

National Domestic Violence Hotline, 1-800-799-7233 (National)

YWCA of Kalamazoo, 24 Hour Crisis Line 269-385-3587 (West Michigan/Midwest) (If you're local, this place absolutely changed my life!!! And they're not just a one-time stop shop that gets you out quickly! I continually uses their services, from counseling and advocacy to therapy and so on. This place and the employees who work here have served as a beacon of hope and opportunity and I highly recommend anyone who needs help to contact the Y!)

COVE, 24 Hour Help Line 1-800-950-5808 (Northern Michigan)

Domestic Violence & Child Advocacy Center, 24/7 Helpline 216-391-HELP (4357) (Cleveland)

Listen to The Single Wife Life Podcast, Episode 6!