Ude: I am so grateful I am living the life I wanted
Ude* is 61 years old and has worked as a full-time teacher. She has three children. She met her husband when they were both teaching and married 4 years later. About 4 years into the marriage, she noticed he was increasingly angry.
“I did note that he didn’t appear happy. There were many reasons that I now looking back could account for: home parent, away from his country, not working, also mental health issues. About 4 years into the marriage, I noted that he was increasingly angry and unhappy and directed this anger towards me in various ways such as using abusive language, threatening to make me lose my job, criticising me for not getting back home earlier and ‘neglecting the children’. He would have angry outbursts, swearing at me. He would face me swearing and raise his voice till he was almost screaming. He would follow me down the street in our neighbourhood shouting at me making me feel humiliated that he was behaving this way in public. Sometimes I would make a joke of his behaviour to a staring stranger, to deflect from the pain. I did not know why he was so angry with me. I regularly called the police, as he was unable to control his anger and I was fearful of his behaviour. The two children who were younger at the time, would hear him shouting and remain in their room.
“This behaviour continued for at least another 4 years, and he continued to drink which would make these angry episodes worse and involve more frequent police visits. He also encouraged his mother to abuse me. I was confused and worried. What had I done? What was happening? Why was he so angry with me?
“There was one time that I made the children’s food and asked them to eat it outside on the garden bench as he was so furious and unable to calm down. It was during times like this when I was fearful of his behaviour that I had no choice but to call the police.
“It was my older son who told me, when I called him after another bout of screaming this time on the street when I asked my husband for a divorce; that I was experiencing psychological abuse.
“It made things a lot clearer. I started to seek help. My boss gave me time off work so I could begin court proceedings to force my husband to leave, my GP referred me to a DA advocate, Social Services supported my children, I received counselling from the Woman’s Trust Counselling services. This counselling was invaluable to help me unravel who I am and where I wanted to be. Also, it helped me begin to look at what love is. As love is not shown if a husband is abusive towards his wife.
“‘All About Love’ by Bell Hooks was a fundamental book for me to read and try to understand my experience.
“The support from my friends was like gold dust. Mainly older women over fifty-five like me, some gave me a place to stay when things were tough – e.g. when the court served notices against my husband and I had to avoid being in the house with him. Some friends I could talk to and cry or laugh with and there were friends that prayed for me. It all helps.
“I am so grateful that I am living the life I wanted and didn’t have whilst I was married which is peace of mind. I am happy that my children can see that you don’t have to stay in an abusive relationship, as a police officer pointed out to me during one of their visits. I always remember him saying, as I was crying, ‘You don’t have to put up with it. My mother suffered from domestic abuse’.
“I am free of my husband and getting on with living my life. There’s nothing sweeter than that.
“Please try and live your best life. You deserve it.”
*Not her real name
Ude has written a poem about her experience, called Genesis 1: 3-5
I lock myself
in the bathroom.
Squeeze
my naked thighs
against the curved edge
of the toilet seat.
The bloody liquid that peeps between my legs
sighs
releases itself.
You had paused
at the blood spots
splattered outside
the door.
Your shouting and screaming
that thrashed my back
silenced
when I slammed
the door shut.
I rest
on the wooden doughnut shaped chair
stare
at the dried
curled, cracked torn paper
that edges the top corner of the ceiling
above the fan
like the discarded band of a
paper party hat.
I step
into my hot pool
fortified by bricks of cast iron coated with enamel.
Drench my body in warm liquid.
Puddles of blood water
that I have splashed become
vast deep pink rivers
swirling on vinyl tiles.
Tomorrow morning, we will make
amicable conversation.
You will flick words in your children’s faces
(who you will not see for 3 years).
You will beg me
to let you stay
all pimped up in your fresh new clothes
I will tell you
what I want.
“I want you to leave.
Go”
You will hurry to catch your ride.
I will close the door.
Lean my back against
hardwood.
Let peace
coyly wrap herself around my body.
I will
make one of those undecided
faltering movements of the lips.
Inhale clean air
exhale gratitude
for countless new days.
If you would like to share your story or poem, contact communications@womanstrust.org.uk
