Transformations Take Many Shapes

For some, part of the cycle of domestic abuse is economic abuse. Where a person will try to limit your financial resources as a way to manipulate and control you. For me, that was a big part of the relationship I had with my ex. It started slowly, with his “inability” to get a job in the new state he had moved to when he decided to be with me. He was perfectly capable, by the way, of working any number of jobs- but he didn’t want to have one, because that meant most of the money he made was going to be held from his paycheck to pay the massive amounts of current and back child support he owed for his four children, plus years of back taxes he hadn’t paid. (I was already in too far, when these issues came to the surface- otherwise, these gigantic red flags would have stopped me from continuing to be in a relationship with him.) During the first year of our relationship, my employer at the time started to notice a change in me. My unwaveringly pleasant demeanor had shifted- I was on eggshells at home much of the time, and that definitely impacted the consistency of my work. He would call me at work several times a day and tell me I needed to come home, that he was depressed, or suicidal and if I didn’t come home something bad was going to happen. 
                               

Something bad DID happen- in January of 2013, I lost my job. They let me go. I don’t blame them.. but I do blame him. As a result of losing my job, I was then supporting two grown adults on my unemployment, and I got behind on my car payment- and I woke up in the middle of the night in late February to hear my Honda Insight Hybrid being loaded onto a flatbed from my driveway. This left us with one vehicle- his. It’s difficult to live in a town with no public transportation and find a job without a way to get to work, but man, I tried. 8 financially devastating months later, he decided he didn’t want to be with me anymore, and left New Jersey in his vehicle, and returned to Maine, without me. Without a job, without a car, I was forced to call my family and have them come help me pack up my life in New Jersey and bring me back home to Maine. This should be where my journey of transformation really started to take shape, but it isn’t. I moved home, and lived with my mom, and got a job, and started to get my life back together- I sat my family and closest confidants down and told them about the domestic violence I had endured in my relationship. I told my ex’s mother and sister about the abuse I had endured in that relationship. I begged all of them to keep him away from me- only for him to wiggle his way back into my life a mere three months later. My mom kicked me out. I still had no car. The ex and I moved in with his Grandmother, and spent our weekends at his mom’s house... I had to take a cab to work every day. 5 months after my mother kicked me out (she refused to be supportive of me continuing a relationship with a man who was hurting me. She did what she thought was best, but the loss of that relationship with my mom is something that was especially excruciating.) in April of 2014, he decided he didn’t want to be with me anymore, and I was again, packing up my things and trying to find a place to go. My sister and her husband and my niece were living in my childhood home with my dad at the time, so I went back home. I slept in my childhood bedroom for a month, before I found a studio apartment that was within walking distance of my job. As soon as he found out I had an apartment, he begged me to take him back. And I did.
                           
Eventually, his vehicle died, and we were both without a vehicle for about a week while we scrambled to find something. At the time, we were both working for the same company, so he had some money coming in. He never ever gave me any money to help with rent, or bills, his cellphone or groceries...but he did give me $250.00 to assist in buying us a 1992 Volkswagen Jetta off of the retail lot of a local car dealership. It was a standard. I couldn’t drive it, because I didn’t know how to drive stick... but I technically owned a car again, after nearly two years of not having one.  (I had to register it in my name - because at this point, the ex had found out that his ability to get a Maine drivers license had been revoked- because he was so behind on his child support. So, he was using his about to expire New Jersey license to drive.) Eventually, in 2015 my exes mom bought him a more reliable car, because the Jetta was dying. It was a 2002, Toyota Camry, which only I could drive, because at this point, his NJ license expired, and he couldn’t get a renewal in Maine. So I was again able to drive to work. I had a small amount of freedom, and was still the main breadwinner as he struggled to find a job he could keep. I paid to register the car. (It was in his step dad’s name, but I paid the registration. I was giving his mom money for the insurance, and paying for all of the gas.. and in 2016, when the car needed a major repair, I’m the one who shelled out a thousand dollars to fix it. Shortly thereafter, the ex and I got into a fight while at his mothers house. He was drunk, and he threw me into a wall and spit in my face, and I told him I was leaving, and that he wasn’t coming with me. As I was packing my things into that car (the one I just paid a thousand dollars to fix) his mother said to me “You can’t take that car. That isn’t yours.” It was, at that very moment, that I knew I was done, and I was going to have to find a way to get my own transportation.  It was the only thing he had, that he knew I needed, and it was the only thing he was contributing to our relationship... and I was still the one paying for it. This car was literally holding me back from getting out of this relationship and living my god damned life. 

So I bought a car. I had to go to a bad credit car lender. (Because of the repossession, my credit had tanked.) My interest rate was ridiculously high on a four year old Ford Focus. But I had a car. It was mine. He was SO MAD. Mad, because he knew he had lost the only leverage he had. It still took me another year to get to a place where I knew I could get him out- but this car, was the means to an end.

I’ve worked really hard to climb back into a place of fiscal responsibility. And yesterday, after two years and three months, I traded that car in for a much, much, much nicer car. With a lower interest rate, and a lower payment. To me, that car represented a period of my life that is over. I've moved into a period of growth, that has me in a healthy relationship with a man who doesn't expect a damn thing from me, financially. (And let me just reiterate how much I love this man. He sat in a car dealership with me from 10:30am - 4pm yesterday. We had planned to go get lunch after the car dealership.. and lunch turned into dinner. We had split an English muffin before we left the house, and we were both getting HANGRY by the time we left the dealership... and he never complained. Not even once. He's the most patient man on the planet, for sure.) I’m thankful for that obnoxiously blue Ford Focus, for the freedoms that it represented to me, but I am going to be happy to turn it in on Tuesday and pick up my new car- while this chapter in my life is never going to be forgotten, I’m just ecstatic to be able to slam this door closed in it’s damn face.