There Is No Neutral Exchange...

I used to sleep with my car key and pepper spray in my bra. It might sound silly, but this tactic, along with the help of one incredible police officer, would end up saving my life one night.

This morning I got to chat with the officer whose voice has been in my head for the last 11 years saying that I was worth it and that I deserved more.

Let me take you back about 11 years...

**Trigger Warning** Graphic Domestic Violence Details Below:

Sometimes I would wake up to being beaten. Apparently in my sleeping state I often did things to upset him as well. To help protect myself, I started going to sleep with pepper spray and my car key in my bra. I never used the pepper spray. For some reason I could never convince myself to use it on him when it would have been very reasonable to do so. Maybe I had a fear it wouldn't actually work or that he would just end up using it on me. Still, it gave me comfort to just have it on me. 

My car key is a completely different story.  It was often my key to safety. When he would get angry, the two things he would take from me were my phone and my keys. I didn't want to be in a place where I couldn't get help if I needed it, so at the end of the night I would grab my keys, carefully and quietly slide off my car key, put it in my bra, and then replace the set where my keys would usually go.

This night was very similar to how nights had gone in the past. We would have a great day, he would come home and things would be fine, until suddenly and out of nowhere they became a nightmare. I was laying down asleep, and he woke me up. I don't remember what he was mad about, if I'm being honest. I just know he was angry. Absolutely enraged. He took my phone away from me. I tried to hide in a closet between the wall and a dresser. He found me and dragged me out to the living room where he proceeded to hold me down on the ground. He held my wrists. It was painful and again I thought that this might be my last night alive. My arms burned as if each touch was seering deep into my wrists and forearm. My stomach ached. My arms were throbbing. He finally was done with me for that moment. But I knew he wasn't done for the night. 

As soon as a free moment came, I jumped up and ran as fast as I could for my car. He was close. I could hear him running after me. I jumped into my car, locked the doors, and began to drive away. He was so close that he was able to actually kick my vehicle as I drove a way, leaving a dent which would remind me of this day for months. I drove and drove. I didn't have a phone and didn't know who I could reach out to. I just wanted to be safe, so I decided to find a police officer. We lived in Sacramento, but West Sacramento was nearby, and I knew I would find an officer there. Withing a few minutes of taking the Jefferson Blvd exit off of 50. The officer has pulled someone over. While I waited at the red light, I called out to her and said I needed help. She wrapped up her interaction with the other person, and came to me. I told her what had happened.  She said that while she was unable to help, she would tell an officer who can help to meet me.  We decided the other officer would meet me at a place of my choosing. I ended up choosing the parking lot at my job.

I waited and waited, constantly looking over my shoulder in fear he might pop up. It had been almost an hour before I finally decided to leave.  I went to a shell gas station to use their phone so I could call 911. The clerk refused to let me use the phone. I let him know it was an emergency, but still I would be told I had to use the payphone outside. No exceptions.  Even in my emergency.

I looked around, shivering in my pajamas, and walked to the payphone. My eyes constantly scanned the area for him. A dispatcher finally picked up and I shared what had happened to me that night.  An officer would meet me at Shell a short time after that.

When I saw his police vehicle drive up, I let out a sigh of relief. I knew I would be okay tonight, but I had no idea what was going to come out of this interaction. This was the first time I had called an officer out for help.

Officer Jason Meier got out of his vehicle and approached me. He asked what had happened and I broke down in tears. After telling my story, he mentioned that he would be going to arrest him. I begged him not to. He looked at me, and in the most gentle, matter of fact way he said, "You called for help. This is how I can help you. If this isn't what you want to be done, what is it that you'd like me to do." I just sighed and though tears I said, "I just want to be safe."

He asked if I had any bruises or marks on me. I did. I showed him my arms, each with their own hand print from my wrist to my forearm. It was bad. For the first time I saw just how bad. He looked at me with kindness in my eyes and said, "I have to arrest him. This is how I can help you be safe." He spoke in to my worth and said I needed to consider leaving. He was right. I knew he was right, but I wasn't ready. He gave me some resources before leaving to arrest my husband, my abuser. 

He was gone, and I was alone with my thoughts; the thoughts that no one would be able to rescue me out of this situation, I would need to pull myself out of it.

5 years later, when I would finally leave, I thought back to this moment and this day. I thought back to my interaction with Officer Jason Meier and I knew I had to rescue myself from this.

****

In 2017, our amazing friend Sean Poore helped me by tracking down the name, badge number, and where he worked. My plan was to thank this officer. I held on to this information, and when our friend Sean died, I didn't want to use this gift he gave me because it was like opening the last thing he had given me and I just wasn't ready to say goodbye to it. Two weeks ago, it felt like it was time. 

I reached out to another officer and friend who was able to get me in touch with officer Meier. Today I got to talk to him and, through tear, tell him how much of an impact this encounter had on me. He was blown away. He had said that in his 15 years serving, he had never had someone reach out to him like this. He said that you never know if the things you say impact those who you encounter. He often gets discouraged as he sees the cycle of abuse continue and so badly wants to see it end, so knowing that he had a part to play in my freedom meant the world. 

Officer Meier is now working in the Mental Health Unit with Sac PD, and I can't help but think he is absolutely in the right place.

I've dreamt of this day for a long time.  I've thought about the things to do and the words to say. Today was perfect.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Brennan Manning, "In every encounter we either give life or we drain it.There is no neutral exchange."

I can't help but think back to this moment where Officer Jason Meier chose to speak life, and in turn helped drastically change my life.

In every encounter, you have the ability to change a life. Don't take that for granted.

<3 -jennilea

Why I chose to wait AFTER marriage...

I read an article recently that inspired me to write about my own experience with this, so here we go.

I was married before so clearly I've had sex already, so why choose to wait now?  I can't tell you the amount of times I've been asked this by friends, family, and even complete strangers.  I could easily just say "well...that's none of your dang business," but if they are asking and really care to know, then I want to give the most real response possible.

So, let's go down the rabbit hole then...

If you're not up to date on my previous posts, then let's get you up to speed.  I was raped when I was 18 years old by a "friend." I blamed myself, felt shame - It shook me to the core.  He denied it was what it was, and we never talked about it again.

I got engaged, and my choice to wait never really felt respected. It was constantly brought up, I heard phrases like "if you don't then someone else will," among so many other things.  I held strong, but on the inside I felt so very broken and it always seemed to bring me back to that place where I felt the shame I did before.

We got married, he turned abusive, and sex was the furthest thing from my mind.  How could I trust this person with my body if I couldn't trust him with my heart - or even my life?  As you can guess, this was a major hiccup in our marriage.  He always wanted and I tried to deliver - but inside I just felt broken and used.  It didn't feel like everything I had dreamed of.  I didn't feel loved, cherished, valuable, or even respected.

By the time I got out of that relationship, I really just felt like damaged goods.  I didn't feel any worth, and I felt far from pure.

That's where Jesus stepped in.

When I truly began to seek Him first and find healing, I was able to forgive the man who raped me.  I forgave the man who beat me and made me feel used.  I would have a fresh start, knowing that I was worthy to be waited for.  I felt pure again.  This was starting over.

I hear it time and time again: "It's 2017, waiting is old school."

Maybe so, but I know that it's what God asks of us - and after feeling as broken as I did before, I am going to protect and guard that part of my heart until the day I say "I do."

What's even better is that I've found the person who is completely content in the waiting.  At least to my face.  Haha!  But that's all that matters right?  That he is willing to not put the pressure on me. He respects and honors the decision I have made and will help me see that through until October 23rd.

October 23rd?  Nope - that is not a typo!  Right after the wedding, we head to Belize.  Our flight takes off 2 hours after the wedding, so our first time will be in our fancy resort room...60 feet from the ocean, and covered in nothing but love, honor, and respect.  Call it vanilla, but it's actually going to be exactly as I thought it would be when I was 18 years old because it's going to be centered in real love.

I'll be safe. Nothing else will exist but us in that moment...

...and probably for months after.

-jennilea

Three years ago, I found freedom.

Three years ago, I found freedom.  After being in an abusive marriage for six years, I made the decision to leave, and it's been the best decision I've ever made.

What I've noticed though is that every year around this time, I think about what happened.  I hurt over it.  I cry over it.  I feel anxiety over it.  Deep down, I'm still searching for real healing from it.  I decided to get together with a friend to chat about what I was going through - and of course I hit a breakthrough as I always do with her.

As much as I try to tell myself that I forgive him for breaking me, I'm still angry when I think about him and what he did.  Forgiveness is hard - and I hated him.  The minute I hear his name or think about him, I instantly think about the worst times.  I couldn't figure out why I tried so hard to hold on to these memories until I talked with my friend.

I remember one time early on in our marriage when he had hit me. As I fell to the ground, I lost it - I mean really just lost it.  It had been weeks and then out of the blue it happened again.  I cried.  I screamed.  I glanced over to the printer laying on my desk, picked it up, and threw it.  I yelled at the top of my lungs, "WHY!?  GOD, WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING!?  WHY CAN'T YOU JUST STOP!?"  My knees began to buckle and I fell to the ground.

His eyes, they are always what I remember.  He looked at me with confusion and false concern before opening his mouth to say, "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I think we need to get you some help."

My tears stopped instantly and I shot a glare to him, "You don't know what's wrong with me? You just hit me.  You keep hitting me.  It's not getting better - that's what's wrong with me!"

He denied it.  He denied that anything happened in that moment and I was at a loss for words.  He was trying to make me feel like I was crazy - Like everything I had experienced in the months leading up to that moment didn't exist.  They existed. They were real, and I was going to make sure to never forget them.

I started writing it all down - every detail each time.  Then I read what I wrote over and over again until it was burned into my memory as a reminder of how painfully real it all was.  I was determined to not forget a single moment.

Three years out of it, and I'm still so determined to remember each moment, but why?  What good does it do to focus on these moments?  All it does it take me back to the most dark and painful places.

As we sat and drank our tea, my friend reminded me that if I'm going to come to a place of total healing, then I need to forgive him just as Christ forgives us.  It's much easier said than done, and I've told myself that I forgive him before.  That sure didn't stick long.  How can you truly forgive someone for causing so much pain?  The reality is that God forgives us each and every day - even after making the worst mistakes.  We are supposed to emulate that same forgiveness, even when it hurts.  Of course that doesn't excuse what happened; it doesn't make it any less real and it certainly doesn't downplay what was done - but it's still something we are asked to do, so I'm going to do it.

I decided that night to sit down and write him a message.  I told him what he did and how it impacted my life. I told him how it broke me, and how those moments still sit with me and decide to make an appearance whenever they feel like it.  I told him I was still so angry about what he did.  Then...I told him I was letting it all go.  That moment felt like the relief you feel from the exhale following a deep breath in.

I don't want to be angry forever.  In a perfect world, I'd actually like to see him get better - and I know he can.

He made a snarky remark in response to my heartfelt message - and it was as if I was being gifted with yet another reason to hate him but instead, I took another deep breath and said to myself "I forgive you."  In that moment, I could already feel that anger start to fade.

"I forgive you."

I intend to say those words to myself every time I think about what happened.  I'm not going to focus on it or let it define who I am, but it is still part of my story and I'm stronger for it.  God is using it in ways I didn't know would be possible.  He always makes beauty from our broken pieces.

-jennilea


A huge thank you to Katie Pryor for capturing my story in these powerful photos. Check out more of her work here.

It Was Violent To Me...

After hours of tossing and turning, I finally got some sleep last night.  I woke up this morning feeling as if I had been kicked in the stomach.  I know exactly what that feels like because it's happened to me before.  I am a survivor of domestic violence.  I am a survivor of rape.  I am a survivor. If you don't know my story, you can read about it here:

Transparency: This will explain a lot

Your Voice Will Save You

"When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending."

Last night, we all had the opportunity to vote on some major issues - but I cannot express enough how disappointed I am in California's uninformed voters.  When you voted for Proposition 57, did you ever look into what was meant by "nonviolent" crimes?  Here is a list of some of those crimes:

• Rape by intoxication
• Rape of on unconscious person
• Human Trafficking involving sex act with minors
• Drive-by shooting
• Assault with a deadly weapon
• Hostage Taking
• Attempting to explode a bomb at a hospital or school
• Domestic violence involving trauma
• Supplying a firearm to a gang member
• Hate crime causing physical injury
• Failing to register as a sex offender
• Arson
• Discharging a firearm on school grounds
• Lewd acts against a child 15 or 15
• False imprisonment of an elder through violence

We live in a state where we voted to not put condoms on porn stars, and to increase parole and good behavior opportunities for felons convicted of the crimes I listed above - many of which are the actual definition of violence.

Here is the argument you might use against this: "They aren't guaranteed to be released." No, they aren't.  But neither is the survivor.  While in the midst of trying to put their lives together, survivors will now have to re-live the crimes committed against them at each parole hearing.  If you've not been through these things, you have no idea just how traumatic that can be. 

This proposition truly had good intentions in some areas, but we should never vote to pass something that is only kind of good.  Push for something to come along that is truly good.  Rehabilitation of criminals is definitely needed, but it doesn't excuse what they have done.  Being truly rehabilitated, they should be apologetic to their victims - accepting responsibility and punishment for their crime rather than dragging the victim through it again.  Speaking from personal experience, domestic violence offenders are master manipulators.  They know exactly what to say and what to do to try to convince their victims and the public that they are truly sorry and won't do it again.  I don't think their tactics will change any further when it comes to them trying to earn back freedom they don't deserve. 

We let down a lot of survivors yesterday, California.

It was violent to them.

It was violent to me.

-jennilea

  

My Own Doppelgänger

"Eventually, over time, we all become our own doppelgänger, these completely different people who just happen to look like us" - Ted Mosby

I've said this once, and I'm going to go ahead and say it again: I can relate everything in life to How I Met Your Mother, so here we go!

Four years ago, I started this blog to document my Day Zero Project. A coworker helped come up with my incredibly clever blog name based off of my last name. Thus "Dirty Londré" happened. After my divorce, I decided to keep my last name because, let's face it, it's way cooler than Mitchell. Plus all of my legal documents and accounts had that name, so it just makes things simple. I knew I'd have to ditch the last name sometime though, and I was ready for whenever that time would come (although it's coming much sooner than expected).

I finally have come to a place of wanting to remove it from my blog, which means I needed to come up with a new title. In an effort to try to come up with a simple, easy name, I asked friends on Facebook for there input. Points to those who came up with "ArrudAwakening." My friends are so silly.

One comment from my friend Cyrita left the idea of not defining myself by other people through my blog name. She said that my story is one of redemption and fresh starts. She gave Biblical ideas and really made me think of how I define myself, how others see me, and how I am seen by God.

This brought me to start questioning who I am. I'm not talking

some sort of existential crisis or anything, but more of a pondering on who I am today after coming from out of such a traumatic few years. I know more than anything that I don't want who I am to be defined by what I've been through. I will not be a victim. How do I want to define myself though? Suddenly, it hit me: The best definition for myself is exactly how God would see me. I am valuable, worthy, loved, forgiven...

One of my favorite verses is Matthew 10:31. I held on to it as I came out of the mess that was my marriage and it gave me comfort and healing. "So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." God provides for the sparrows, and how much more are we worth to him than birds? Just as He promises to care for His creation, He cares for us as well. And in those times where I questioned who I was and what I was worth, I found my worth in God.

Four years ago Jennilea was a completely different person from who I am now. I was in a different place facing incredible challenges and learning how to cope in my abusive situation. Present day Jennilea a completely different person who is free and healed; I know who I am - and I know my worth.

So, with a new look and a new name, I introduce you to my blog: Ten31, a place where I share about who I am, the things I've been through, the way God has healed my heart, how He continues to move in my life, and every bit of adventure I get to have.

-jennilea

Two years later...

Facebook has been a great reminder that it's been two years since my life both became a total mess and started to come together.  Everything from photos I took the exact date I was last cheated on, to the day I made the decision to leave - the posts say it all.  Reliving these moments can be really painful, but more than anything I realize I am so grateful to not have to physically relive those same moments as I often did in the past.

Two years ago today I posted about my decision to remove myself from an abusive marriage and I still remember how much my heart trembled as I hit the "publish" button, knowing my entire life was about to become public, feeling shame for my marriage ending, and more broken than I ever had been before. I didn't know what kind of reaction I would receive.  I had no answers as to what I would be doing next.  Nothing was certain.

Before I knew it, I had comments and message after message which made me aware that I was not at all alone. People I know, love, work with, went to school with...they had dealt with similar pains.  No one was upset with me for my decision; all I experienced was love, acceptance, understanding, and affirmation in how I was feeling.  Every single message I read was instrumental in helping me heal. Through these messages and conversations, I was pointed back to the incredible God I serve, and I learned that I should feel no shame in the decision I made.  I never asked for what happened, and I certainly did not deserve it.

Two years later, I own my story and stand in confidence as I tell it to others.
Two years later, I am made new.
Two years later, I feel safe.
Two years later, I know my worth - and expect nothing less.
Two years later, I have discovered what it truly means to be loved as Christ loved the church.

Two years later, I am free.

-jennilea <3

You Get No Credit: A Short Rant

I had noticed some photos of my ex and I on a few pages, and asked for them to be deleted.  One of the responses I got: "Good or bad it is a part of your life story. If it wasn't for this part of your life you might not have come to where you are today."

NOPE!  He gets absolutely NO credit for where I am today!

I can say that with absolute confidence, because he never encouraged me to do those things I was so passionate about.  Every single day was full of discouragement, put-downs, doubt, and fear.  He doesn't deserve any sort of pat on the back for my accomplishments. 

I understand that this is part of my story.  I absolutely own that this is part of my story, but that doesn't mean it is something I want or need to be reminded of.  In those photos, I don't see great memories.  I see a girl who is trying her best to put on a happy face, while hiding from the world that she is terrified he might hit her again - or worse.  In our wedding photos, I see someone full of hope who will very quickly come to see that every last vow made to her will be broken.  The only thing he can have credit for is giving me a world of experience that I absolutely should not have had.

Here are the facts: If it were not for my strength to leave an abusive relationship, my resilience, my faith in who God is, my desire to push harder than ever to pursue my dreams; if it were not for my hard work I would not be where I am today!   

It is a complete miracle that I didn't get lost in my situation, which I credit completely to God in that He gave me the courage to push forward, to heal, and to go after the desires of my heart.  

I am sure this comment was not meant to be taken as I have taken it, but please understand that what you said does not help what I've been through; it waters down and sugarcoats the situation.  There is no sugarcoating in abuse.

In related news: Normally I like to give a fun fact here - but in "feeling the room" I am going to give a not so fun national statistic: "Domestic victimization is correlated with a higher rate of depression and suicidal behavior."  I am so incredibly grateful to have not experienced these things.  Restating what I said earlier, it is absolutely by my faith in God that I did not get lost in what happened to me.  

For more statistics, visit the website for National Coalition Against Domestic Violence website here.

-jennilea

"When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending."

I was raped. 

There. I said it. But it doesn't feel good to say - not that it should "feel good" to say. It certainly isn't easy to say either. I say it quietly and with hesitation - almost as if I should be ashamed that it happened, but why? Why do I feel ashamed of something I had no control over; why am I ashamed that my "no" wasn't good enough? 

What if I had fought harder?

What if I had screamed? 

What if I haven't allowed myself to be isolated with this person?

What about my conversation could have been changed so he wouldn't see me as his next victim?

Victim. I hate that word and refused to be labeled as such. In this moment - I take back my life. In this moment I am overcoming my best kept secret from a night of regrets and "what ifs" because the thing is that this person made a decision to take my choice from me. This person took away my right to  "no!" 

As the night replays like a nightmare in my dreams I am haunted by that simple question of why...

18 years old and attending a friend's birthday party - I had decided to sleep over. It seemed safe - everyone was sleeping over. What I didn't expect was to be woken up by someone I had known so well, drunk, and forceful. 

No! 

No! 

Stop!  No! 

At this point I am crying. I'm fighting. He was stronger. 

Just like that - Something I had decided to save until marriage was stolen. I was broken. What's worse - he denied it happened. 

For whatever reason, I told myself it didn't happen too - until I couldn't escape the hurt and brokenness. It happened. And it sucked. I blamed myself and decided to keep it a secret. Eventually telling my closest friends as years passed by. I thought I had dealt with the issue - but I hadn't. Randomly the moment would replay in my mind and suddenly I would experience the event all over again. 

I was broken. 

Finally, I went to a women's retreat. After hearing from the speaker - I was wrecked. She had been through similar things and her story was powerful. I decided to speak to her about what I had gone through. She said these words:

"You were raped. What happened to you was real. It happened. Your choice was taken in that moment - but you know what wasn't? Your purity." 

Like weight lifted off my shoulders. That wasn't considered my "first time" because it wasn't my choice. 

I felt better that day - but guilt and shame still found a way to creep into my life again. No sooner than I came to terms with being raped, I had also come to terms with my abusive marriage. Only one heartache at a time. So I pushed that event back again - like there is some sort of quota on the amount of grief one person can experience. I decided I would feel better if I just never thought about it. Again, living like it had never happened. 

That brings me to a few months ago. I went out with my friends and a guy felt like he had the right to touch my body - and I was filled with rage. I most definitely followed him, yelling along the way that he can't just touch whomever he wants - and using a few other choice words as he scurried away. This time I didn't keep quiet. Encouraged by friends, I told security. It was my mission to handle it - I  would not keep quiet. 

As I continued to process through that moment - I realized the anger I had felt was because he felt like he had rights to my body - just like that "friend" felt he had several years prior. I faced it - and I was angry; a stage of grief I had previously never allowed myself to feel.

Thoughts of the recent event, coupled with being raped a few years prior had consumed my thoughts. I wanted to scream - or do anything other than be completely silent. 

So that's what brings me here...where I am calm, rational, and can make those thoughts and feelings into some sort of sense.

I am here, writing this,  because if every experience I've gone through were to stay hidden, then they would have been for nothing. But if one person can read these words, realize this wasn't their fault, tell someone, and seek help - then this was worth it. People learn from the experiences of others. They grow. They get better. 

I also realized that I had refused to take this pain to God because I could barely even admit it happened to myself. I prayed. I prayed for healing, strength, comfort, peace - and that God would use my voice and the story I have. I prayed that this would just be another story I have overcome, and that through it all I would continue to have that joy and passion for life He has placed so deeply in my heart. 

I smiled. I felt better. 

I'm not a victim anymore; I'm free. I'm transparent - and finally talking about this feels so incredibly good. As I sit here, crying, and ready to post this huge part of my life for the world to see...I feel strong. 

We heal when we become transparent. We find community and new ways to deal with the devastating reality of the tragedy we have suffered. 

We get better. I feel better. Thank you, Jesus. <3

-jennilea. 

"Your voice will save you."

"Authentic love does not devalue another human being" - Brooke Axtell 

Before Katy Perry's emotional Grammy performance of "By The Grace of God," Brooke Axtell, sex trafficking and domestic violence survivor and activist, gave probably the most heartwrenching and real speach.  With intense passion and desperation, she spoke out:  "Authentic love does not devalue another human being. Authentic love does not silence, shame or abuse. If you're in a relationship with someone who does not honor or respect you, I want you to know you are worthy of love. Please reach out for help."

Her speech, coupled with Perry's performance, left me speechless and in this ocean of emotion.  I related to everything - and I know I'm not alone in that.  I started researching the lyrics to "By The Grace of God."  This is the first song I've felt connected to - that described what I've been through in such a real way.

"Was full of secrets locked up tight...Running on empty so out of gas."  Yes.  When you're in this place where you feel like you can't speak - there is no one to talk to about what you're facing because you've sort of alienated yourself from people.  It felt like I'd be a burden, or I feared their reaction if I didn't do what they thought I should do (knowing their advice was best for me - even if it wasn't easy).  After a while, you're just worn;  Tired of keeping secrets and going through it alone.  You feel lost and trapped.  I felt like this was my life - a product of my decisions and I deserved what I was getting. On top of that, I was constantly told it was my fault as it was happening. At some point, you just start believing it. 

"Thought I wasn't enough.  Found I wasn't so tough.  Layin' on the bathroom floor."  This line spoke to me the most because it literally did replay a story to me:

*Warning - this story is graphic*

One night, he was drinking. I thought the best idea would be for me to sleep. That way, he couldn't get upset - he wouldn't think I was nagging if I asked him to slow down. I just thought it would be better for everyone.  He woke me up anyway, and was furious. He had found one of my "I love Mr. Pickles" T-Shirts from when I had worked there for a few months.  He was insisting that Mr. Pickles was this real person who I was seeing behind his back.  He choked me as I laid on the bed, then kicked me off onto the ground where he continued to hit, kick, and choke me again.  He finally walked away, and I found a hiding place, for the first time:  The bathroom floor.  It was the only room in the house with a lock, and as he banged on the door, I was lying on the floor praying he wouldn't break through as I made my first 911 call for help.  I truly believe if I didn't call them, I would not have made it through that night.  He began banging on the door even harder as he realized what I was doing - screaming all kinds of names and profanities at me.  Suddenly, it stopped.  I sat there in tears on the phone with the operator who stayed on the line with me the whole time, and advised I don't leave the bathroom, even to open the door for the police because we had no idea if he was in the household at that point.  

I heard a knock on the bathroom door.  I was shaking as I quietly answered, "Yes?"  I held my breath as I awaited the response.  "This is the police, we're here to help you."  I let out a huge sigh and just started bawling.  I was safe.  I was going to be okay.  

They spoke to me about domestic violence and gave me paperwork on different programs that could help me.  

I didn't take their advice that day.  I should have, but I didn't.  He always had a way of making me believe he would be better - that he would be different.

If anyone else finds themselves in this position - please take their advice.  Get help.  Get out.

Which brings me to the next line of the song:

"By the grace of God - I picked myself back up.  I put one foot in front of the other and I looked in the mirror and decided to stay."

Each time something happened, the only way I know I was able to continue moving forward was by the grace of God.  He carried me through every outburst, every incident. It was in His perfect love that I was able to find any sort of joy in life. 

"Now every morning, there is no more mourning. I can finally see myself again."

So much truth. I don't have those mornings where I wake up feeling such complete brokenness. I don't have to question why I'm still living. Instead, I feel freedom, peace, and a real passion and excitement for life again. I feel like myself rather than as if I were fighting each day for normalcy - just to make it through one more night. I don't have to search for the silver linings and happiness; It's there already as I see God working all throughout my life - healing every piece that was shattered. 
"I know I am enough. Possible to be loved. It was not about me. Now I have to rise above...the truth'll set you free."

I am enough. God bought me (and all of us) at such a high price. We are all so precious and deserving of a Christ-like love. We are worth dying for. I am worth dying for. 

Now I can take these horror stories I lived though, be open and real about them, and allow God to use my life and my story to help bring other to freedom. 

In freedom, I am no longer a victim, I am an overcommer and there is such beauty that has come out of the brokenness of what I have overcome. 

If you have gone through or are currently going through something like this - I know it's not easy to speak up in what your going through, but please know, just as Brooke Axtell said, "your voice will save you." Talk to someone, anyone. Get help. Life can be so much better than the nightmare you've been living. 

I encourage you to check out the article I read, which gave an incredible overview of the heart of Brooke Axtell's message and Katy Perry's performance: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2945421/Domestic-violence-survivor-sex-trafficked-7-year-old-Texas-male-nanny-gives-speech-alongside-Katy-Perry-Grammys.html 

Rise up. Get help. Speak out. 

-jennilea

Transparency: This will explain a lot

One day, I know I will wake up and feel normal, but until then, I will keep pressing on, living life, feeling, trusting God, and having as much adventure as possible.

A few weeks ago - my entire world crashed down when I found out my husband of 6 years had been less than faithful.  Here is my story:

In 2008, I got married way too fast and way too young - but was determined to make everything work. I am extremely stubborn and work ridiculously hard to keep what I want.

Very early on in our marriage, we encountered issues with substance abuse.  Growing up, I was never exposed to alcohol - so it took a bit of time before I realized - "Woah - you drink a lot!"  The realization didn't actually hit me though until he did.  Yep - along with the alcoholism came physical abuse...a lot of it. Being married, I believed that I owed it to him to stick it out and work through it, as long as he was willing to get better.  We struggled on and off again with him quitting for a few weeks, then starting up again, quitting, then starting again. I had marks I came up with excuses for, a giant knife pulled on me...There were so many times I didn't know that I would make it through the night.

The patterns of abuse and addiction because so incredibly overwhelming until the final straw was pulled:  He got home drunk and with a random stranger around 2am.  He had been missing all night, and I was worried sick.  When I realized he had been drinking, I made the decision to leave.  He tackled me to the ground - and to my surprise, the random stranger guy did absolutely nothing.  In fact, he said to me "It's okay, you guys love each other - it will get better."  In that moment, I was overwhelmed with anger.  It wasn't okay.  It wasn't getting better.  For the first time, I fought back just enough to get him off of me - run to my car, and book it out.

It was at this point I realized I needed to stop separating who my husband was.  I knew he was an awesome guy when he was sober - but when he drank he was my worst nightmare.  At the end of the day - this was still the same person doing the damage.  If the sober version cared, he would have done all he could to not be the drunk version.  Why try to control an addiction if it risks physically hurting your wife each time?

Finally, I gave him a choice:  Enter a live in program or we can be done.  He chose to enter a one year live in program.  After failing at the one year mark, and finding out he had been drinking during pretty much the entire program, I told the program leads because there is no way he would leave with the same problem.  His program was extended another 6 months.  He failed again, but that his point, we were nervous as to what his outcome would be as far as custody went for his daughter, so I didn't say anything this time in exchange for a promise to seek outside help.  That never happened.

We continued to struggle - where there would be months at a time where I thought he would be sober - come to find out otherwise.  It all came down to one night I had gone out of town for a fitness conference, came home, and he was nowhere to be found.

After doing some digging, I found out he had gone to a party the night before and had been drinking - after believing he had been sober for about 6 months (which he had not been).  Not only that, there was a possibility he had been involved with another girl.  This would not be the first time in our marriage that he had done something like this - though I didn't know until later.  I asked him over and over if he had been drinking that night - even pointing out that I already knew, but needed to hear it from.  He insisted he was fishing the night before...then finally told the truth that he'd been drinking.  There are only so many times I can say "if you don't stop drinking, I am leaving."  I decided to leave.

He immediately became involved with the girl from the party.  No time wasted at all.  I confronted her - and just really tore her apart with my words.  Pretty sure I scared her off.  Go me!  During that time, his drinking had also become so heavy that he lost another job.

He ended up moving to Fresno to work at a Christian camp, where I believed his life was really changing.  We decided to work on things - but before we did that, I needed him to tell me the complete truth about everything.  Sparing no feelings, I needed to know it all.  It was at this point that he told me he had kissed another girl shortly after we got married, things happened with the girl at the party (but not sex), and that he had never stopped drinking at all until he got to Fresno.  I really urged him to tell all because at this point, I was feeling everything - so nothing more would make it worse.

The next 7 months were pretty good, until he started getting pretty mean, verbally.  Then, I felt the urge to seek out the truth about the girl at the party from someone else, because I felt like there was so much more to the story that what he said.  It was confirmed to me that he did have sex with her at that party - while he and I were still very much together.  Needless to say, I was completely crushed.  I gave him an opportunity to tell me the truth - pointing out that I also already knew the truth, but needed to hear it from him.  He lied about it for about a week, then finally came forward with the truth.

At this point, I had endured so much pain and hurt in this relationship, I knew I couldn't take on more.  Especially given the fact that I had to argue with him for an apology of any kind.  It felt done.

Very quickly, he moved on...like within a few days, hooking up with a close family friend, and then pursuing someone else.

For the past 7 years, he has been my life.  I've tried all I can do and fought harder for my marriage than I really should have.  At some point, it's time to quite fighting.  I am not going to lie - this hurts and it sucks.  It's the most painful experience I've ever had to endure - especially because after all of this time, being there and fighting - to be cheated on simply because he wanted to "feel chased."  I feel like all the fighting I did for our marriage was chasing enough for a lifetime.

All of this brings me to having issues with my worth - but I have come to realize that my worth has to come from God first.  We can't find our worth in people, because people suck and are far from perfect.  To God, I am worth so much more - I deserve more.  Furthermore, him quickly moving on isn't about me or my worth either - it's a rebound to fill the void he now has.  It's temporary.  

What he did wasn't about me not being good enough; it's about whatever issues he has within himself.  Hurting people hurt people, and until he can find healing within himself, he will always hurt people.  I take comfort in knowing that it will not be me next time.

For now, my life consists of making it - day to day.  Fighting with myself to get up, move, go to school, maintain life - and just get better.

What might I need or expect from you?  Prayer...I need prayer constantly for my heart to heal and feel whole.  If I need you, be there.  Play games with me - I love game night.  Take me on an adventure - or to experience anything new.  Please feel free to ask me how I am doing.  If I don't want to talk about it, respect that.  Don't tell me I will be okay.  I know I will be okay, but right now, it hurts - and that is pretty normal.

One day, I know I will wake up and feel normal again.  I will be happy.  All of this will be behind me.  Far down the road, I will find someone who will "move mountains and destroy kingdoms" for me.   Someone who loves God and loves me - real love.

Thanks for taking the time to read this - and thank you for all of your love and support.  It is very much needed.

-jennilea