Amy, a 17 year old young woman, ran away from her parents' home months ago. From one perspective, the situation could be explained as a defiant teen who doesn't want to obey her parents' rules. From Amy's perspective, the explanation differs.  She understands that she broke a rule (or three!) and expected to be disciplined for that. Amy did not expect to find her disobedience tied to be tied to her parents' marital woes. She didn't expect for a private conversation with her mother to be shared with her father. She did not expect to be blamed for her mother's choice to confide feelings about Amy's father's repeated adultery (Amy suggested Mom leave him). Also, like many other victims of abuse, she did not expect the insults and aggressive anger as her parents worked through their emotions toward her via verbal and mental abuse.

No one can take away your education. I tell that to the cadets where I work all of the time because it is true: I know from my own hard-won education, an ICBS (I Call Bulls*&!) degree, earned via 18 years of mental, emotional and verbal abuse, featuring a well-designed syllabus acted out by my controlling, manipulating, abusive ex. That man was an excellent teacher, but I didn't truly appreciate his lessons until the last years of his course (a.k.a., our marriage). It was a long course. Four times, out of sheer frustration I'm sure, he attempted to physically knock the stupid out of me, but it took that final laying on of hands to make me see the light. I graduated from that abusive experience with the ability to sense abusive bulls*&! from a mile away. Thank you, Ex-Husband, for the education.

Telling the truth is one component of integrity, but integrity has to do with being "whole" and "complete" in what we do, believe, and say. Our behaviors, thoughts, and words must align in order to have integrity. During the course of my abusive marriage, I discovered I'd lost my integrity and that I told a whole truck load of lies to boot. I didn't like myself because I was not saying or doing what I believed to be right. Although I lied to protect myself from abuse, the abuse of my most valued characteristic, my integrity, hurt more deeply than my husband's put-downs and wrongful conclusions.

Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines wrecking as "to reduce to a ruinous state by or as if by violence". The crime of Wrecking in the former Soviet Union is defined as deliberately giving wrong commands for the purpose of disrupting the normal operations of the state. When I heard the term on the radio today, I was struck by the similarity between wrecking and how an abuser seeks to disrupt his/her victim's "normal operations" and how disrupting normal operations evolves into reducing victims "to a ruinous state by or as if by violence".

I think there are three broad reasons why people remain in abusive relationships: The victim doesn't realize they're being abused. The victim knows they're being abused, but doesn't want to leave the relationship. The victim knows they're being abused, but isn't ready to leave due to finances, values, fears, or any other reason. I certainly honor each group's position. After all, I've been in each of the three groups at one time or another. This story occurred when I was unsure about leaving and making plans on how to stay married to my abusive husband.

It takes two to tango. I despise that phrase because it implies equal responsibility for the abuse inherent in an abusive relationship. It is true that for every abuser, there is a victim of abuse. If the victim refused to stay, there would be no abuse at all. While that is true, it puts equal responsibility for the abuse onto the victim, and that isn't right (Things Victims Say and Do To Cause Abuse).

The only wrinkle on my forehead is a vertical line a little higher than the bridge of my nose, right of center. When I was younger, it would show when I was displeased, angry, or pouting. Now the wrinkle shows always. I consider it a battle scar. One night right before we separated, Will drank some Jim Beam and then came to my perch at the computer to stare at me. I tried to ignore him - I knew where the staring would lead. After a few uncomfortable minutes, he reached his finger toward my face and traced the wrinkle on my forehead. "Why don't you yell at me anymore? Why don't you get mad anymore? Why don't you love me no more?" he sadly asked.

One day in 2001, I recorded in my journal: "I don't know why I am so angry." Hindsight is 20/20 (or maybe the "hindsight bias" is at play). Either way, by piecing together the evidence from my journals, I was angry because my abuser: dishonored the goals I set for myself, following only his own ignored my thoughts or feelings when planning "our" life together demanded I raise our children by his rules, as if he were their only parent and on and on... In short, I was angry because he denied that "I" existed. "I" meant so little to him that he wanted to pretend he was the only person in our "relationship".

The predictability of domestic abuse is, overall, easy to see; but case-by-case, domestic abuse eruptions are unpredictable. The predictability of domestic abuse exists because you know that the abuse will happen again, following a pattern; the unpredictability is in when it will occur.

Now that I'm out of my abusive marriage, I never want to enter another abusive relationship again. I think about how I came to believe my ex-husband was my knight in shining armor and how I fell under his spell. Although he alone is responsible for the abuse, the abusive cycle was partly my fault; in effect, I gave him permission to abuse me. I don't want to give anyone permission to do that again! Here are four signs I ignored that warned me of future abuse in the relationship with my ex-husband.