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It seems strange referring to my first marriage, as a marriage at all. In retrospect it really wasn't much of one. My definition of marriage, as a partnership, as a union of souls is so much different today, than it was during my first 'so called' marriage.
Perhaps my warped ideals of marriage first began as a little girl dreaming of marrying my own prince charming some day. He would be the perfect man, sweet and charming and handsome. Sensitive and thoughtful and caring. Heck, he would even ride horses! (It was, after all, a fairy tale) Then to have to compare fairy tales to the only male role model I had growing up, was like comparing night and day. My father was the polar opposite of anything good and descent. The opposite of prince charming, he was a devil in sheeps clothing.

My parents warped my sense of what a normal marriage was. My father was abusive and controlling. He treated my mom like he was her father too. He told her what to wear and what to do, even how to act. The world revolved around his needs and wishes. My mom was expected to do everything, and take all the responsibility. While for my dad, life was one big party. My mother often worked two jobs plus she cooked and cleaned for all of us. She kept up the appearance that we had the perfect family. She also kept herself so busy that she was never had any time left for us emotionally. And she wore blinders and ignored my fathers bad behaivor and infedelity rather than deal with it. My life was actually kind of like one of my fairy tales in the sense that everything was all one big ridiculous lie!

I was sixteen years old and on my own when I met my first husband. I thought I knew everything back then. (Boy, was I ever wrong!) We had dated for five years and even moved out of state together. Then one day I found out I was pregnant. Ten days after that, we got married by the justice of the peace. That was the day everything about our relationship changed from bad to worse.

The very day that I got married this man I had been living with for five years changed into HIS father. His father, who was an extremist in his own right, a retired colonel who
used religion as an excuse to be a controlling husband. Who thought a womans ONLY place was in the kitchen and that she should be obediant and quiet. His father, who basically believes God gives man a wife to be his servant! Not his partner, his equal, as it should be, as I believe today. The day we married my husband started trying to tell me what to do and

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