The Kindest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said to Me
I first visited a Catholic priest to talk about my abusive marriage in early summer 2012. He was the pastor of the parish that my wife and I had moved to several years earlier.
I arrived with a sheet of paper filled with the thinking that I’d done since receiving third-party confirmation weeks earlier that I was in a verbally abusive marriage. I’d written notes about the impacts on our relationship, the intimacy of our marriage, and my career prospects (since I was our sole financial support).
Although I said it was an abusive marriage and provided examples, my pastor didn’t say that any abuse is wrong. He didn’t recommend taking steps to protect myself. He didn’t offer resources to contact for guidance and advice.
My pastor did share words of wisdom that proved extremely helpful over the coming years. He recommended carving out an independent life and starting to share with family and close friends what was happening. Nothing, though, to affirm that abuse is always wrong, even when it’s not physical. Even when it’s the wife who is emotionally abusing the husband.
This first discussion suggested a pattern that held for many years in conversations with multiple priests.
“Your marriage is your cross.”
“You were dealt a bad hand, but you have to just play it.”
“You are Simon of Cyrene. You are to help your wife carry her cross.”
“Your role is to turn your wife outward again instead of her intense focus on herself.”
“Your marriage is your purgatory.”
When I mentioned that last response years later to the priest who shared it, he revised his comment: “It sounds like your marriage is like hell.”
To be fair, one priest in Boston told me that I needed to first protect myself. That was the closest I ever heard to a strong message that I was in danger.
It’s not only Catholic priests, though. I just Googled “husband being abused in a marriage” to see if I’d get the familiar top-of-page warning about abuse. I did but noticed that it focuses on domestic violence. For a husband in an emotionally abusive relationship, the subtle message is that emotional abuse isn’t a top-of-page concern, even for Google.
The Kindest Thing Anyone Ever Said to Me
By 2021, the parish’s new pastor had growing knowledge of my home life. We’d become close friends; I regularly confided in him and received spiritual direction. Outside of confession one day (which permitted him to later reference our conversation free of the confessional’s seal), he asked me to recount the timeline of our marital relationship.
After sharing the multi-decade story, he looked directly at me and said, “You don’t have to live the rest of your life like this.”
I absorbed those words, then replied, “Father, you’ve told me repeatedly that my marriage is my cross, and Jesus didn’t come down from the cross.”
He followed with the kindest words that anyone has ever said to me.
“Jesus was only on the cross for three hours.”
Within minutes, we walked to his office. He gave me the card for a Catholic counselor who he recommended. The counselor specialized in dealing with trauma. I followed up and started to see the counselor.
Given my long-held and reinforced belief that I needed to play my bad hand, I placed myself under obedience to my pastor and the counselor. That meant that I would not make a unilateral decision to end the marriage. All three of us would have to concur about the marriage’s future. As a Catholic struggling with the idea of ending a marriage, I imagined this approach ensuring that I was faithful to the Church and open to clear messages about my future direction.
By the fourth appointment, the counselor was talking to me about the divorce process and the possibility of pursuing a subsequent annulment for the marriage.
My pastor was of the same opinion soon afterward.
It took me a year to set a new boundary with my wife involving joint counseling. She refused to participate in any counseling once again. After that, I agreed that ending the marriage was my best path to healing. That wasn’t immediate, though. It’s taken another two years for the divorce to become final.
I wouldn’t be this far toward healing, though, without this wonderful priest letting me know that I mattered too, and that a life of accepting abuse wasn’t okay.
I Launched this Blog Because You May Need to Hear Kind Words, Too
It took nine years of prayer, searching, exploration, research, self-reflection, talking with family and friends, and a brief stint in counseling before someone that I viewed as an authority told me that abuse wasn’t okay.
If you’re in a comparable situation, I don’t want it to take you nine years. I want you to get beyond the self-doubt that abuse creates. That self-doubt cripples your ability to act and protect yourself.
If any of the stories in this blog sound like your life, I want you to know: You don’t have to live the rest of your life like that. It’s not you imagining it. Protect yourself right away. Take a first step to get away and ask for help.
You really do have to protect yourself first. Do it right away.
If you are in a similar situation, I’m publishing content along my journey to healing as I make progress. Subscribe to get an email as I share new articles.
