As a child growing up I was frequently told how well i could do something, how much I was loved, how proud they were of me. I was convinced from the start that I could do anything I put my mind to, that I deserved good things in life, deserved to be happy. All of those words of encouragement made me grow up feeling pretty good about myself. They made me feel that I did deserve those things.

Now at 41 I know differently.

I got married at the age of 20. Wanted what most people do I suppose, kids, a home, a happy family. I wanted love and respect. The happy ever-after. I never realized those things came with a price. One, that looking back, was much higher than I could pay. Also one that would be paid by others.

It started off so subtly I never even noticed it. Probably wouldn't know it now if things hadn't gotten to the point they did and I had one of Oprah's "light-bulb moments". There was the "cant you do anything right?" which eventually progressed into "your nothing but a worthless waste of the air you breathe". Let's not forget the "you know I love you more than anyone else ever could" which eventually became "no one else would ever have you, your useless, worthless..." and any number of other put downs.

What I saw at the time as someone wanting to spend time with me was actually him trying to control me. Slowly cutting me off from family and friends until I felt I had no one to depend on but him. What I thought was love, was control.

I have bee and still am called every name in the book. Have been accused of doing things I haven't done. I soon found myself, just as he wanted, with no friends, and not much contact with my family.

I remember thinking many times if only I was a better wife, a better home-maker, a better mother, a better lover. I tried to be better. I thought if I did the things he wanted me to he would treat me and the kids better.

There were times I tried to stand up to him. Those times when the encouragement from my youth would sneak through into my consciousness. That only made things worse. For a long time I just accepted things as they were.

Yes, there were good times. Times when I thought things may be changing. Times when I even thought I finally had what I wanted, but they never lasted.

One day about 3 years ago, my 12 year old daughter was backed into a corner terrified, screaming and crying with her father standing in front of her, his hand drawn back to hit her. My 16 year old son

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