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

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.