I was born in Southern California in 1955, the last of four children. And yes....I am over 40! My father was in the Navy and we traveled a lot while I was small...we even lived on Midway Island for two years. When my father retired we moved here to Idaho, a beautiful state filled with all the wonders of nature in all her bounty. We have mountains, forests and rivers that are incredible in their awe inspiring majesty.
I grew up in a loving and warm family with two older sisters and an older brother. My childhood was happy and joyful and I was blessed to be so loved and cared for.
As I grew, I knew that I was a bit different and not ready to settle into a life of early marriage and a family. I had a deep desire to travel and see all the richness that life had to offer. Amazing how fate can step in and turn things around!
I moved away from home to another city here in Idaho to attend Business School. Life was an adventure! Little money and crazy friends and struggling a bit day by day, but when you are 18, every day can bring you something new and exciting.
I graduated from business school and began working...and playing. I made many dear friends and life seemed good. Then one evening on my way home from a movie, something terrible happened that changed me forever. I was naive and believed that it could never happen to me....but it did. I was viciously assaulted by a stranger. It took a long time to come to terms with what had happened to me, and to understand that it did not make me less as a person....that it was not MY crime, but HIS.
I ended up moving closer to family and started to attend college. But a man that I had dated for a long time persisted in his attentions to me and convinced me to move back and live with him. I thought I was doing the right thing and at that point, I guess I needed to feel loved. I had no idea that I would discover what it was to live in a waking nightmare.
Sam (not his real name) had a bit of a drinking problem and a terrible temper. But as his temper had never been focused on me, I was not afraid. I should have been, I should have been very afraid. Why can't we, as women, see the warning signs? Why do we let the thought of a comfortable home and a bit of financial security blind us to what is right there for all the world to see?
It began slowly....this need of his to control...to control and hurt.
It started with little things. Sam getting angry if his dinner was not prepared just right, or if his white laundry was not quite white enough, or if the house was not tidied in just the way he thought it should be. He would get angry and scream terrible things at me that left me shaking and frightened. I had never known that kind of anger...growing up, my home had been full of laughter and love...family squabbles that ended almost as soon as they began. I thought that it was me. That he would not get that angry unless I was doing something very wrong. He reinforced that belief. He would apologize later, and tell me how sorry he had been to lose his temper. But if I would just do the things the RIGHT way, then he would not be forced to get angry and reprimand me. I was young...I believed him.
As time went on, his anger got worse and worse and it seemed that I could never do anything quite right. I was becoming very insecure...and began to believe him when he said that no one else would want a woman like me...one so helpless and incapable of doing anything right. But he would reassure me that he loved me and would help me to "learn" the things I needed to learn.
Then one night, it happened. He got so angry that he hit me. I was completely stunned! Violence had never played a part in my life....how could this happen? What had I done that was so wrong? WHY? WHY?
Afterwards he was very apologetic, very loving. He promised to never do it again. If I would just do things right, he wouldn't have to do this!! Once again, I believed him...I wanted to believe him. After all, wasn't I the one who had messed up again?
The violence progressed with time and each time he would apologize and promise not to do it again. But each time it got a little worse and a little worse. Then he started doing other things. Sometimes I would wake in the night and find myself tied to the bed. He would do things to me that were unspeakable. I began to turn into a shadow of myself. I would jump at every sound.
I found myself drawing further and further away from those I loved. At first, because I was ashamed...ashamed at how worthless I was. I felt that I was failing, because I could not run a home right and I could not give Sam the happiness that was his due. I mean, he WAS supporting me, wasn't he? He gave me a home and love, didn't he? As time went on, I grew even further away from my loved ones, but now it was because I was afraid. Afraid of what he would do if I was to TELL! He warned me of the consequences...and I believed him. Sometimes when I think back, I am amazed at all the things I believed.
I had always had some fertility problems growing up. Never ovulating regularly like other girls did...and in time I developed a disease called polycystic ovaries. By the time I moved in with Sam, I had already had a couple of operations to try and help the problem.
A cyst began growing on my left ovary and got to be about the size of a grapefruit. It was very painful, but Sam said we did not have the money to have it taken care of...and besides it was just me whining again. I should be tough and just live with it. It was not going to hurt me! So, once again...I believed him.
My family was far away and had no idea what was happening. But some of my friends were beginning to become concerned. They had not heard from me in a long time and when they had, something had seemed wrong to them...especially to my friend Diane. She just sensed something was not right. Her concern ended up saving my life.
Because we lived outside a very small community, there was no one living close to us and there were no convenient phones or stores or any other accessible means of contact. By this time, Sam had taken away my car keys and took the phones with him when he left each day for work. But these precautions were not really necessary, because I would have been too scared to contact anyone anyway. I knew that if I left him, he would kill me. He promised me he would...and those promises were the kind he never failed to keep.
One night, the cyst on my left ovary burst. I was in agony and felt like I wanted to just die from the pain. Sam laughed at me. He said that I had to quit playing these games to try and stop doing my "duty" to him. He forced himself on me. Everything he had done to me up to that point had been painful, but nothing had ever hurt as that did. It was the most excrutiating pain I have ever felt. I screamed and screamed...and the more I screamed, the more he hurt me, pushing inside and hitting me. He enjoyed it.
I think that I withdrew to some secret place inside myself because nothing was very clear after that.
Two days later, my friend Diane had gotten so worried, that she couldn't stand it any more. She had called and called and never got an answer. She finally decided to drive the 30 miles to where I was and see for herself what was going on. She knew that Sam would be at work all day.
When she got to the house, she knocked but no one answered. She saw my car there and knew I had to be inside. It was summer and some windows were open, she called and called my name but I did not answer. She was really frightened by then and climbed into a window. She looked for me, going from room to room. Finally she found me, naked and covered in blood, curled up in a fetal position in the corner of the bedroom with my hands tied. All she could do was hold me and cry...I was beyond reacting.
She bathed me and dressed me and took me away with her. She got me to a hospital and got me medical attention. And in a couple of days when I seemed to "come back" to myself, we called my family. I could not bring myself to tell them all that had happened. I was too ashamed and afraid. To this day, I have never told them the whole story. I just told them things had not worked out and I wanted to come home. The next day my father came to get me. And while Sam was at work, we went and got as many of my things as we could and my father brought me home.
My friend Diane had risked a lot to help me. If Sam had known what she had done, he would have hurt her, too. I asked her how I could ever thank her enough for saving me and helping me. I asked how I could ever repay her for my life. She was a very wise and compassionate woman. She told me that the one way I could pay her back, was to some day help another woman who could not do it alone....to share the love and concern with some other woman in need.
Through the years I have tried and I am still trying. I have worked with battered women's groups, with friends who have been battered and I have recently become a Park Angel in The Park, a chat room that I frequent. I am helping with a new Program they have called The Park Shelter and Safe Haven. The link to that will be included in my pages.
And at last, I am telling my story. I am hoping and praying that some woman will find her way here and maybe it will help her to take that big step and free herself....before its too late. I hope that my friend Diane, who is no longer with us, can see me from whatever beautiful place her soul resides in and finds that I am trying with all my heart to return the love. I can never truly repay her...but I will do the very best I can.
For links to Battering/Domestic Violence Information and Help, please go to my Battering page and the Personal Safety Plan page.
 Email Ms Jasmin
 to this site since July 20, 1998.
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