As told to EEW Magazine By Njeri Motley // Domestic Violence

I grew up in the church. My father was my pastor. I was very involved in ministry, but growing up as a preacher’s kid, I got lost in church activities and didn’t gain a personal relationship with Christ until I was older.

By the time I was a teenager, I strayed after seeing how ungodly some Christians acted behind the scenes. I let their behaviors deter me from seeing God for who He really is. Even though I never completely stopped going to church, I found refuge in alcohol, marijuana and in the club. I was living two lives, but even in the midst of my sin, I always would talk to God, whether or not I felt He was listening.

How I met him

At 20 years old, I was introduced to a young man through a mutual friend. I had already met him and his family years ago through a shared church affiliation—which seemed like a promising sign. Although neither of us claimed salvation, there was a feeling of commonality because we both had strong Christian roots.

We got married after only a year of dating, when I was 21 years old. My father warned me and told me not to do it, but I didn’t listen to him, or God. On the day I got married, I was standing in the back of the church getting ready to walk down the aisle. As I was holding onto my father’s arm, the spirit of the Lord said to me, “Don’t do it.”

Of course I did it anyway and got pregnant right away. After our wedding, it didn’t take long before red flags began showing up, like his quick temper. But I ignored the warning signs.

When the violence began

The first time he was every physically violent with me was within the first month of marriage during a heated argument. I don’t know what we were fussing about, but I remember him choking me. I was so scared for my safety and the safety of my daughter from a previous relationship, that I grabbed some clothes, got in the car and locked the doors. When I was getting ready to pull out of the driveway, he kicked my window, which left a big shoe print on the glass.

I managed to get away that day and go back home to my parents. I stayed with them for 9 months, until I had the baby. During that time, my husband kept trying to get back with me, saying he wanted to make things right and work it out. Because I believed in marriage, I wanted to believe that he was better.

When I returned to him, it started off well. There were no problems. But gradually, he slipped back into old habits. He was verbally abusive. He criticized my weight, even though I was a size 2 then, and told me nobody else would ever want me, and that I had two babies and wasn’t as pretty as I used to be.  

This damaged my self-esteem. I stopped taking care of myself. I no longer took pride in my appearance. I was just a young woman—22 by this time— and I was just taking care of my two babies and his son from a previous relationship. I wouldn’t go out with any of my friends. The relationship was so toxic, my two closest friends didn’t even want to come around because they felt like there was some tension going on. They distanced themselves from me.

But we still went to church and smiled like a happy couple. People loved him because he was very charismatic. He had a great sense of humor. They had no idea how he was treating me at home.

The worst, most horrifying incident

When our daughter was 5 months, she got christened and he was angry that day. For some reason, it always seemed like he got most upset with me when other people showed me attention and not him. When we got home after having a great and fun dinner with his family, I just knew there was going to be chaos. I could tell by his demeanor.

I remember falling asleep on the couch because I had one of my stress headaches, which I had started getting from our relationship being so bad. When my head hurt like that, I could do nothing but go to sleep. When I woke up, it was 9:00 in the evening. When I asked him why he didn’t wake me to come to bed, he exploded.

He began to yell and go crazy. I desperately pleaded, “Not tonight. Let’s not do this tonight. Let’s not argue tonight.”

But that evening, he took his hand and put it over my face like it was a basketball and slammed my head into the floor. He bang it repeatedly.

I was screaming and begging, “Please stop!”

As he continued to literally take my head up and down, up and down, up and down, and hit it on the floor, I tasted blood in my mouth. In that moment, I just let him go. Before that, my natural reaction was to clench onto him and scream. But tasting blood made me think, I’m going to die unless I do something. Maybe if I lay here and stop doing everything, he’ll stop.

I was right.

The moment I let him go and went quiet and laid there limp, he looked down at me, and it was almost like he was startled. He immediately jumped up off of me and sat at the end of the bed with his face in his hands. I got up slowly off the floor.

At that point I wasn’t hurting. I think I was in shock. When I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, my eyes were sitting on the side of my face! My nose and lips were so swollen it looked like somebody had beaten me in the face with a hammer. I was almost unrecognizable. If I didn’t know who I was, I wouldn’t have known who I was.

Somehow, I found the strength to drive myself to the hospital. I was so ashamed. I had x-rays done and discovered my face was fractured. Aside from him breaking my face, I had a concussion and brain contusions. Nurses warned me never to go back, because I might not make it out alive. They wanted me to go to a shelter for battered women. But I went back to him instead.

I convinced myself I was not an abused woman. After going back, once again, things escalated. During our final major blowout fight, things got so ugly, police were called to the scene, and we parted ways for good.

God was with me

I had some setbacks while trying to get back on my feet, but God was with me. The more I began to pray and indulge myself in the word, God started building up my self-esteem and giving me the character of a strong woman again.

God eventually brought me a man that I love intensely. We are married and happy. Within 7 years, God totally turned my life around to the point where, before, I couldn’t even imagine having the kind of peace of mind I have today. God is everything that He says He is in His word. He has proven that to me over and over again.

He’s proving Himself to me even more every day. I now use my life to help other abused, hurting and broken women find healing.

If you or someone you know is going through a domestic violence situation, don’t be afraid to get help. If you have questions about domestic violence or need help call 1-800-799-SAFE.