Last Monday, I learned about the passing of the woman who caused me immense pain 16 years ago—shattering my first marriage and triggering severe postpartum blues that almost led to psychosis. This unexpected and somewhat shocking news resurfaced a flood of old wounds. It sent me straight into the miseries that were never confronted. I never thought that the pain could feel as fresh as though it happened last week, and not years ago. Again, I found myself resentful and angry. I was drowning in self-pity as the words that she used to attack me on Yahoo Messenger became vivid again.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions that enveloped me. I felt victorious. I felt vindicated. A very small part of me felt sad for the family that she left behind. Then, there was a pang of guilt and fear as I slowly felt pride and ego taking over my being.
After crying heavily, I found myself on my knees, praying for deliverance from resentment and for protection against any ego-driven sense of vindication I might feel after years of longing for it. My prayer was for humility, divine guidance, and freedom from that toxic bond. I now truly grasp that those painful experiences were, in fact, divine protection and a redirection towards the right path, guiding me to where God intends for me to be.
During that period of intense suffering, I felt utterly alone, with no one to truly understand the darkness I faced. The following morning, however, I had a profound conversation with Meynard, sharing the raw emotions, dark thoughts, and frustrations that once made me question living. He listened without judgment, and I confessed my lingering need for closure from them who had deliberately hurt me. While I’ve learned that some people may never acknowledge or atone for their mistakes, and I shouldn’t beg for their validation, Meynard’s wisdom resonated deeply. He helped me see that true closure comes from within, by focusing on the positive outcomes that emerged from that difficult time. That night, I sent forth all my burdens upon the Lord, officially closing that painful chapter, and embracing a newfound sense of peace.
This is the back story.
In 2006, I married my long-time college sweetheart. We were together since 1998, when we were just 17. In 2007, he confessed to have committed an extra-marital affair with a sex worker. I forgave him. In 2008, he contracted a chronic STD, from which I was blessed enough to have not contracted. I spent all my savings to have him checked and treated. However, he needed a long-term treatment that would cost 100k PHP/month. For that, I didn’t have the means to provide. Fearing that he would die anytime, I prioritized getting myself pregnant, so he could leave me a legacy, in case he would leave the world early.
I got pregnant before the end of 2008, and gave birth to our son in 2009. However, just before we celebrated our 10th anniversary of being together in November, 2008, he became distant and started going home at wee hours, even though he was unemployed. He would come up with stupid alibis, like he was in a job interview at midnight, and it would lead us to fights and him leaving the house for days. I was pregnant and was often alone at home. On Christmas Eve, I cooked 3 main courses from the 3 kilograms of meat I bought from the market. He didn’t come home that night the the day after, which was Christmas Day. He didn’t come home the following day, either. The food were spoiled by the 26th. On the 27th, I wanted to end my life, not even considering the life inside my womb.
When I gave birth, he left the hospital early because he said he had a basketball game. I was on labor for 10 hours and the doctor decided to perform a C-Section because there was a cord coil, and the baby was getting distressed inside my tummy. The doctor, however, could not go through with the procedure because the husband wasn’t there to sign the consent, and I was already drugged. His sister called him up over the phone, just so he could give the verbal consent. On our third wedding anniversary, he left the house 3 days before that and only came home in the afternoon and never said anything, as if it was just another ordinary day.
This went on for months. One day, he decided to beat me up for asking too much questions. I went to work with a big black eye. He later narrated that his mistress, a widow of a high-ranking military official who was 18 years older than him, instructed him to beat me up to make me see “who’s the man” inside the house. The woman, whom he named “Agua,” added me up in Yahoo Messenger. Her profile bore a photo of her being hugged by my ex-husband from behind. The same pose on my display photo. She was mocking me. She told me I was frigid in bed, a loose woman for wearing clothes that showed my cleavage, and that I deserved to suffer. She even told me that she would kidnap Yeshua, so that I would never see him again. She said that she would have her men rape me, so that I would become dirty and that no other man would ever want me. I would stare blankly on my monitor for hours, crying desperately, asking God why He thought I deserved such misery, and asking Him to end me.
My friends at work brought me to mountain climbing, one weekend, to keep my mind off my problems at home. They had me on suicide watch by staying with me on the trail the whole time, because I might jump off a cliff. Reaching the summit had given me the sense of peace that I had been longing, so I got addicted to climbing that I would climb 3-4 times a month, seeking for every climber group that would take me in.
At this point, the beating became worse. He would beat me up every time he came home to visit the baby, thinking that I was sleeping around. Thinking that I was doing to him what he was doing to me. One night, he came home with his college best friend, who was his best man during our wedding. I stayed up to catch up with him, as we had become good friends as well since college. I learned from him that they got thrown out from the house of “Agua” by her children who were older than my ex-husband. That night, he beat me up again, in front of his best friend, who didn’t do any thing to stop the beating. I found myself barefoot, running for help toward the guard of our village, who in turn, called the barangay authorities. Then, I went to the nearest government hospital to have myself checked and procured a copy of the medico-legal document, that would help me in pressing charges against him. That same day, he went to prison, and our relationship officially ended.
For months, I tried to manage the pain of losing my first love, the hardships of raising my son alone, and the dilemma of being always put in the bad light for not choosing to stay in the abusive marriage. Even my own family judged me for not sticking up. People judged me for saving myself. No one even asked my ex-husband why he did what he did. I was the bad person, the loose woman, the one to blame for having a broken family.
Later, I decided to drop the charges, because I didn’t want my child to be fatherless. My ex-husband was facing up to 12 years of imprisonment. I reached an agreement with my ex-husband that we co-parent. He promised to give me the closure that I deserved. That he would tell me everything about him and the woman who wrecked our home. That he would make up for the pain that he caused me. But that never happened. He never even gave me a formal apology nor did he show any remorse for all the sorrows he caused me. As the time passed, it seemed like it didn’t matter anymore. Little by little, I was already able to look him in the eye without any hatred, focusing only on the welfare of Yeshua and our ability to co-parent harmoniously.
At first, Yeshua stayed with me in an all-woman household. By the time he turned 5, he was exhibiting gender confusion, so I asked my ex-husband to take him in for 2 years, so he could have a male role model. My ex-husband’s parents gladly took Yeshua in their care, and up until now, we maintained a good relationship because of our common love for Yeshua. My ex-husband would drop Yeshua off on special occasions, would greet my new husband, and would even kiss my two other sons on the cheeks.
Time is a good heart doctor. It healed me well. Finding a better man also helped a lot. Forgiveness is indeed a gift to oneself. God had answered my prayers during those times when I couldn’t find some light. He gave me more than I had asked for. He removed me from the situation that I wouldn’t voluntarily leave. It was clearly protection and redirection, so He could give me the life that He had intended for me. The fate that He had engraved in my soul. The blessings that He intended to shower me with.
Post Script: In April 2016, I filed a court case to have our marriage annulled on the grounds of psychological incapacitate on his side. The nullity of our marriage was granted in June 2017. Despite the annulment of our marriage, Yeshua remains a legitimate child. ~Ditto
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