March 2003
Even my parents were affected. When they came, two months later, to hear my final recital and graduation, they drove seven hours to stay one night. Even my 80-year-old grandfather came. Florin felt threatened. After the recital, he stayed home and told me that he wanted me to stay home with him instead of going out to dinner with my parents. He made it sound like my parents were unreasonable for wanting to spend time with me that evening, when HE was the one who helped me graduate by giving me private viola lessons! I never felt a worse torture than that night. Still, I defied Florin and went with my parents anyway. My face was white with anxiety the whole time and I kept getting up to call home to see how Florin was doing. He complained of some heart pain and tried to make me feel even worse.
He said all he asked for was one hour of the night to have drinks at a bar with him... alone. I couldn't do it. I was torn, but a little angry. My parents, their friends and my grandfather were all there... and they were happy people who I loved. Their presence had started giving me strength to fight back. But I was already so far gone that it just confused me. It wasn't enough. I was too far under his spell.
One month later we went to his home together in Romania. I tried to write to Helen to apologize. He found me writing the letter and tore it immediately without even reading it. I screamed, but no one in the house could understand me. They didn't know English. I felt so helpless that the thought never occurred to me to write another letter behind his back and mail it myself! I was crushed and terrorized. I married him one month after that and didn't come home for three years except occasionally for short visits.
Romania was so different from anything I knew that it even further enhanced the distance I had from my soul. I was so distracted by the unfamiliar culture that my homesickness was forgotten. I was brought to all of Florin's concerts in far away places. The lover of adventure in me was completely satisfied and kept me going. Florin never left my side and played the most beautiful music in the world. He showed me the most beautiful country/culture I had ever seen. I thought I didn't want to play the viola anymore. So that source of strength was gone too. I only existed. That's all... I went for walks in the park by myself. An adventure would be buying a loaf of bread on my own. I learned the language. I learned his nightmare - his family - and it became my own. I fought with his brother and father without ever knowing their side of the story. I was Florin’s little puppet. I somewhat knew that they were not the ones at fault and taught Florin that as well. It surprised him. He was vulnerable there and the country's beauty was starting to give me strength so we left for the States.
When I came off the plane my mom said I looked like the "ice princess." I wasted no time in starting to scream and swear at my family for not loving my husband enough - not sending us enough wedding cards ... of all things! Somewhere, way in the back of my head, I knew that I was being irrational, but I couldn't help how I was feeling I was out of control. I had become his ANGRY little campaign manager/cheerleader, while he sat peacefully back and watched as I demonstrated my utter loyalty.
I was so much his puppet that even my physical pain wasn't my own. I remember going to the emergency room with him when I had an unusually high fever and being told by him that we had to leave because there weren't any female doctors on duty only male, and he didn't want me to see a male doctor. And I went home! Also, he abused and killed our pet canaries, while I watched helplessly, really helplessly. He used to smack their little heads, and throw them on the bed. Throw shoes at the cage, etc. I remember pleading and pleading with him one day as we walked down the stairs and out the door.
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He said the canary would be much happier outdoors in the snow than locked up in the cage. I told him the canary would die; we weren't even supposed to let the temperature in the room drop below 75 Fahrenheit! But, he wouldn't listen or he was too strong (I can't remember which) and he let the bird go out to its death. I couldn't stop him. I can't tell you what control he had over my mind. I got to know the psyche of an abused woman and can now understand why women watch while their husbands beat their children. I was so far gone from myself. An experience most women don't ever come back from, but God didn't let that happen to me. He put love in front of my eyes.
The details of how it happened: I met Laurentiu eight months before I separated from my husband in July of 1998. Florin and I were visiting my cousin, Holly, for dinner and Laurentiu was invited. I remembered thinking he had the loveliest eyes and was jealous because he might have been flirting with my cousin's sister! I must have loved him right away! But as I said, I was away from myself.
I remained his friend through my contact with Holly. I had started to feel strength about two months later because I had been working full time (away from him seven hours a day did wonders!) and I was making my own money. I must have felt the need to prove my strength because I decided to compete in a swim marathon in the open ocean. I faced one of my biggest fears: dark water. I trained all summer for it and my husband was away when the time came for the race. When I did it, I was all alone; my parents surprised me and came to the race as support. They knew this was one of my biggest fears. When I finished, I'll never forget the look of love and pride on my mothers face as she said, "Now you can do anything, Laura. You faced your biggest fear!"
I called my cousin Holly that night to celebrate, and she invited me to Laurentiu's house for a party. I remember seeing Laurentiu and beaming with my inner soul at my accomplishment. He looked at me like I was a Christmas present... I'll never forget it. An awakening seed was planted in my heart. We danced and flirted but were nothing more than casual friends in my mind.
Then, Florin started to travel more and more to concerts away from home. I felt the need to be friends with Laurentiu and his roommates. I had become so isolated from everyone for four years, and their bohemian existence fascinated me. I cherished those visits like a glowing light at the end of a tunnel. The more Florin was away, the more I became restless in my mind. I called Laurentiu once and revealed a story about Florin that had always bothered me, more than the others. The story was of the night of my graduation recital. Laurentiu got mad and said that Florin was wrong to do that. I was SHOCKED! and relieve and full of something new.
A feeling so unfamiliar that I didn't even recognizes it. Here was a man, a ROMANIAN man, who was telling me that something Florin did was wrong. I would never have believed it unless he said it. My parents, my friends, even strangers who didn't know me were criticizing Florin and I didn't believe them. I only defended Florin.
I saw a movie not too long after that (Star 80) and started to relate to the main character, a model that was being abused by her boyfriend. I was watching the movie and thinking "wow...poor thing! But I know what she feels like." And then, it hit me! I know what she feels like! I know how could that be? Unless I was being abused too I swear, in that moment I felt like a bubble popped. Like someone turned on the light switch. Like I was "I" for the first time in a long time.
What a mind trip. I started to get scared right away and only let Florin back into the apartment to get his things. He moved out and back to Romania in the beginning of November without too much of a fight. Once I wasn't his little slave, he had little interest in me. The abruptness/non-caring tone was harsh to say the least, but typical of his abusive style. Laurentiu also went back to Romania to visit his parents around that time so I had a month and a half to recover. I lost more weight, took care of myself and cried a lot. I started seeing a psychiatrist and trying to make up with my family. In mid-December Laurentiu came back. He called a few times and invited me over to a huge party he had two nights before Christmas. I'll never forget the look on his face as he picked me up from the subway station. Somewhat similar to the Christmas present look he had a month earlier. I was all dolled up and much thinner than I was before. The party was so fun. When it was over, he drove me back to my place and came up to see my apartment. We talked for a long time enjoying the friendship, then he went down to get his car and it was gone! I lived in downtown Boston, so we assumed it was stolen. What a mess. Then, we saw the sign from far, far away. Tow zone. So we got the number and called. It would cost him 100$ to get it and it was two am. We went back up to my apartment and talked and talked. Needless to say, fate intervened and that night was the night it happened. Love the night before Christmas Eve.
It was as if we were looking in the mirror at the same time and seeing each other's face as though we'd met there before. Even the walk to get his car was beautiful. We stopped at the corner gas station to buy the most delicious French vanilla cappuccino, and he was so open to the people at the gas station the cashier who loved him right away. I saw humanity in him. We drank while walking down the snowy city street. A flock of birds fluttered by just as we turned the corner to get the car back from the tow company.
My nightmare had turned into magic. And that was our beginning. I had someone to help me out of the darkness that had become my life. His love for me was like the biggest and the warmest present that I’d ever received. I didn't think it at all strange that our names were so similar: Laura & Laurentiu. Or that our love for each other started Christmas Eve, and Christmas is what his last name translates to in Romanian. Or that he must have been married before too, and they also fell in love on Christmas eve or that his ex-wife looked like my soul sister only brunette. We even loved the same flowers: Forget-me-nots and lilies-of-the-valley. I don't think anything is strange: like the fact that our wedding went so smoothly and effortlessly.
I didn't know how I would be able to marry him with my whole family and everyone I knew against it. I couldn't even tell my sister because I knew that after my experience with Florin she wouldn't trust that I knew what I was doing. I was so scared that I had a nightmare the night before the wedding about dying. But everything was taken care of for us: the meal, the music, the invitations, the place, the beautiful weather and the lovely ceremony. In September of 1999 at a meditation retreat there was a woman who happened to be a couples therapist. She gave us a free couple’s counseling session and was so moved by our story she agreed to recite a poem that I had written when I was sixteen at
our wedding. I had wanted something from my life about what I thought marriage should be since my family wouldn't be there.
So everything was prepared except that we needed to find marigolds for our wedding garlands. The only flower store for miles didn't have any (we were in a small town in PA) but a woman in the shop overheard us and said she could help. Sure enough there were
six pots of marigolds the next morning outside the shop, free of charge. I needed these
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signs. They were all I had because I hadn't listened with my heart for such a long time. Nothing in my life has surprised me since and our life just continues to grow more beautiful.
The biggest miracle is that God graced me with a spirit like Laurentiu. One who enjoy making others around him and me happy. And he's good at it too. His training as a director for homeless children got him ready for me. Boy did I put him through tests! I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Never mind my family trusting him! Any little criticism he had of me, I attacked him with years of suppressed rage. Through it all, he's just been himself and met each of my temper tantrums with patience. His open mind and great compassion for humanity helped heal the tear in my immediate and surrounding family.
When I was lost in the black hole that had become my life, a helping hand reached in. Our meeting was like God's Christmas gift to me. Besides being as handsome as a model, he is so warm and open. His love is a protective hug; not a vice and even if he left this earth, or me I know I'll still be O.K. I found my bond with God. With this new support, I separated the demon voices in my head from my own. And that is how my new story begins.
I hope this helps other women/men who experienced abuse. Recovery is a slow, painful process but well worth it in the end. You discover happiness in the journey and you CAN make something positive out of your life even if you think you can't.
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