Finally Home
It was a cool winter day in Dallas, Texas and I couldn’t wait
to get out of the house and be with my friends. My daughter is finally weaned so
I can actually go somewhere without either having my mammary glands feel rock
hard or me accidentally leaking all over the place in public. Now she is
finally on formula and I can somewhat trust my husband to be able to warm a
bottle if she was hungry. I literally haven’t been out of the house in months
aside from working full time or doing normal things like going to the store. It
was my good friend’s birthday night out and I was definitely looking forward to
it with my favorite group of girlfriends. Little did I know, the night would
turn out completely different than I would ever have imagined. The plan was to
catch a local band at a new bar downtown and just spend some time together
celebrating her birthday. With my group
of friends, it was never a dull moment and this night did not disappoint. We
all car pooled together so that we could save gas and stay together. The night was
actually going great – we were having a good time checking out a few new places
downtown and hearing some live music. Midway through the night, I had minimal texts
from my husband. He was normally insecure and would bother me if I ever went
out doing anything with anyone besides him.
I usually like to be home by 12:30 or 1am at the latest just because I
don’t want my husband to worry or get angry that I’m out too late. I wasn’t
worried on this night because the texts were few and far between and I’m sure
because there were no texts towards the end, he was just sleeping with the kiddos
and it’s all good. I had two beers because I am somewhat of a cheapskate and
loathe paying $4 per beer at a bar, plus we couldn’t afford it anyway. I didn’t
really take into consideration the extra daycare payment required for baby #2
and my husband has been in and out of work lately. It’s been a stressful time
being pretty much the bread winner when what I make is barely enough to take
care of the bills, let alone feeding and clothing a new family of not just three
but now four. The night was so much fun and went by so fast.
The bars closed at 2 am and we decided to head back to my friend's house around
1:30am.
I was actually surprised and kinda proud that my husband was letting me
actually enjoy a night out. He was supportive of me going and said I deserved
some “me” time. We get back to my friend’s house about 1:45 am and it’s still another 30 minutes home for me. I was kinda hungry
so after I stop at Jack in the Box to enjoy two greasy tacos for $1, it’s time
to head home. I checked my phone, still no texts from the husband. This was
great, I was thinking I would just get home, crawl in bed and be ready for a full day of being
mom which was another reason I couldn’t get drunk – even though I got a night
out for “me” I didn’t get the next day off to recoup from my parental duties. The
experience of a hangover and having to take care of two kids is just miserable
so that was not an option for me.
I finally get home and put my car in park in the
driveway. I take the key out of the ignition and just take a minute to myself.
I make sure and hide any evidence of Jack in the Box to avoid being yelled at
for not getting him anything if in fact he was still awake. The lamp is on in
the living room but we usually always leave that on during the night. I was a
little apprehensive – I’m thinking why isn’t he blowing my phone up and freaking
out that I am not home yet? It was about 2:25 am by the time I walk in the
door. I would soon be either thankful that I wasn’t drunk walking in the door,
or possibly wishing that I was so that my reality wouldn’t have been so stark,
crisp and drastic. I walk in the door
quietly in case everyone is asleep – I don’t want to wake anyone up. I started to walk toward the doorway that
leads into the hallway where my nice warm bed was waiting for me. Before I took
two steps, my husband bolted from the hallway with my 6 month old daughter in
his arms with a look on his face I had never seen before. To describe it, I can only say it was filled
with pure hate and disgust. He proceeded
to accuse me of starving our daughter because I was gone so long and she needed
my milk. Was my husband seriously so detached from this family that he didn’t
know I switched her to formula weeks ago? I was wondering who is this person standing in
front of me. All I remember was him
screaming at me with our 6 month old baby in one arm. Before I knew it
I was pushed up against the front door and his other hand was around my neck. I
broke free before being choked long enough to pass out. Unfortunately, I had experienced
this exact scenario with my first husband minus a baby of course. My motherly instinct took over and
I rip my daughter from his arms and scream for him to leave. The one thing I
was thankful for at that time was that my 4 year old son did not wake up from
the yelling and screaming and witness any of the abuse. I figured I might have been safe with
my daughter in my arms – surely he wasn’t going to do anything to me with her
in my arms. I asked him what was wrong and why was he doing this – nothing but
hate and rage were in his eyes and he had no good answer for me. As I threatened to
call the police and my daughter was crying, I felt the hard connection of his left hand on the right side of my face while my daughter was crying as I held her on my left hip. My right ear was ringing, I really couldn't process what just happened. Thoughts flooded in
my head - I was overcome with complete
disbelief, anger, sadness, and a sobering reality that my husband’s drug
addiction is far larger than I had ever thought possible.
I wish I could say at
that moment I packed up my kids and that was it. I never thought I could be that
woman that I never understood until that very moment. I would hear about some
severe domestic violence abuse cases on the news and think “just leave”. I was now that
woman and it’s wasn’t easy and it wasn’t logical either. I didn’t want to split
up my family. I didn’t want to be twice divorced and be seen as a complete
failure. I didn’t want my children to go through the pain of divorce. I didn’t
want to be judged. I wanted to save it, fix it, justify and allow his behavior
to continue because I kept telling myself it wasn’t him – it was the drugs. After that night I
actually set a boundary before we separated and said if he ever laid another
hand on me, that the kids and I were gone. I also made him go to rehab. The
rehab didn’t last, my boundaries were not respected and finally many months later,
after the police were called and actually involved, I finally left. I was now
twice divorced, a single full time working mom of two young children with no
family or support system nearby.
It was
time to consider moving out of the fake ass town I called home my entire life and
just start over. I was tired of the $30,000 millionaires, the expectation to
have the most expensive clothes, the cool new $500 purse or the status of a
shiny new car to feel worth something. I was never that person and I never fit
in. The thought of a new life was exciting but scary. I was not running away, I
was going to start over. I used to hate change for so long and then I realized
that change was the only thing I could count on in this life so I had to embrace
it. My nearest family was in Austin. It’s not too far away from the city I
called home my entire life. It was sad
it took going through my own personal hell for me to stop and evaluate my life
and finally, maybe for the first time – look inward. For so long I was the victim, the blamer and
the one without the issues. Everything up until that point was everyone else’s
fault. If both my ex-husbands hadn’t had their drug or alcohol issues we would
have been just fine. I truly believed that for sooo long. I had to get completely knocked down pretty damn
hard to realize I was part of my own problems. Denial’s a bitch – especially
after I finally got out of it and had to face my true reality. After digging myself
deep out of my depression, hurt, pain, failures, mistakes and struggles from
over 10 plus years of living with two different addicts - I was finally able to
see.
I was severely co-dependent and after
months of recovery and therapy I could see that I couldn’t control and
manipulate or fix someone else. I also
realized that no other person on this earth was responsible for my own happiness.
I couldn’t accept another person for their flaws and I expected them to read my mind
and provide all my needs without the proper communication. I played a part in my
two failed marriages. Luckily through all of my shit I was brought up with a
strong work ethic and never let my personal life effect my work. If
anything, I became a workaholic to focus on something else besides my crappy
home life.
My hope was now in Austin. A
new start, a new beginning, a new page for me to turn and a new chapter of my life
to start writing. I put feelers out in my industry to see about opportunities
to move. As my luck would have it, I secured an interview. I drove to my first interview which later
became my new employer and I fell in love. I fell in love with the uniqueness
of the town, and just the spirit of Austin. I don’t know how to explain it but
it’s just different. Maybe I appreciate it more because I came from somewhere
else. If you have lived in Austin your whole life – consider yourself lucky.
Austin rules. Dallas’ energy was cold,
expansive and just kept getting bigger and almost depressing to me. I
don’t believe I had witnessed as many beautiful sunrises and sunsets in my
entire life in Dallas as I had in the first 6 months of living in Austin. I felt
happy driving through downtown – the energy was and still is amazing. In my
first marriage which I call the ‘partying’ marriage, all I knew of Austin was 6th
street, debauchery and not remembering what I did the night before after waking
up crashed on someone’s couch. If you didn’t already know, there are plenty of
Dallas defectors that now call Austin home. My sister didn’t do a great job of romancing
me with the greatness of this city but did encourage me to consider moving for
the 12+ years she has lived in the area. She lives in Georgetown, though so you
know that isn’t actually Austin.
Before accepting my job offer and starting the
process of moving 200+ miles to my new life, I debated all of the negatives
that could have kept me from my new destination but said to hell with my fears.
I am so glad I moved. My main fear was that my kids would be uprooted in the middle of a school year and have to acclimate
to new friends in their schools and get used to a new place, a new town and be
200+ miles from their dad. Luckily despite our past and differences, their dad is
still a part of their lives even though the drive to meet in Waco for the hand
off is a bitch. I will take that trade off because living in Austin is so worth
it.
It may be hard to believe but now, three years later I have no ill will
towards my ex. I took my time going through the gamut of emotions that my past
experiences with him brought but I have accepted it and moved forward. My hate
and resentments did nothing but bring me down. It took me a while to forgive,
but I finally did. Our negative past
experiences happened, I went through things that I don’t wish on anyone but in a weird way, it brought me to where I
am today.
Austin is my new home and I
don’t ever want to leave. I have no idea why I have never decided to come to
South By or the ACL Festival prior to moving here but those two events right
there are just the start of all the cool things you can find on any given
weekend in this town. I have reconnected with my former love of live music and
I am so thankful there is a plethora of really awesome local bands that I can catch
on the weekends without my kids. I owe a lot to Austin. In the 11 short months
I have lived here I have experienced so many cool things. I have become
healthier with my eating habits (no I’m not quite paleo or vegan yet but I am
making healthier choices). It's very easy to make better choices here. I became one of the many that have trained and
completed a triathlon – my first ever. It’s funny in Dallas it was something
special because frankly there aren’t that many triathlons per year up there and you tell someone
and they are like – wow or cool and in Austin it’s no big deal like - who hasn’t
done a triathlon? I can also find an event on almost any given weekend during
the spring and summer. This is also one of the most bike friendly towns I have
been to and I love it.
I am so glad I made the choice to leave my past life in Dallas behind. Austin has provided me with a new start and a new beginning. I am finally home.
