From An Abusive Marriage & Feeling Like My Life Is Over To Living Peacefully in True Love
HELLO
Meet Ana Kristina
Hello my darlings!
Before I get into the bit where I tell you who I am and why I’m writing about true love, let me say thank you!
Thank you for taking the time to come by for a visit. This blog is a labour of love and my hope is that you’ll find some value and comfort in these pages.
My only wish is to teach you the truth about love and help you navigate the twists and turns on the road to true love.
MORE ABOUT ME
keep scrolling…..
My name is Ana Kristina, but my friends call me Kiki. I’m the founder of True Love Confidential. Even though I’ve always believed in love, it took hitting emotional rock bottom to realize that it’s not always a story of happily ever after.
As an immigrant child, I overcame not speaking english and being bullied at school to graduating from college and climbing the corporate ladder. I didn’t obsess about getting married and raising a family like some of my friends did because I always felt like it would happen when the time was right.
But I had no idea of the heartache and despair I would endure once that time came…
If you’re into reading, I’ll tell you more about my personal journey down below. But for now, let me say that the breakdown of my marriage led me to discover what true love is really all about. It was a very lonely road getting there because I felt like I was on my own. In hindsight, it feels like I went through hell and back.
Sometimes I think that maybe it would’ve been easier if I had someone or somewhere to turn to. And I’m willing to bet there’s a woman out there who’s feeling the same. If this is you, then you’re the reason I created True Love Confidential.
My hope is that True Love Confidential will be your go to corner of the internet for all the ups and downs on the journey to true love. When you’re feeling like you’re all alone and no one understands, I hope that TLC will give you the comfort and care you need to feel better and live your best life.
With much love, Kiki
Kiki (at) trueloveconfidential.com
This is my (very long) story…
HELLO
Meet AnaKristina
I always believed in love. Maybe because I’ve watched way too many movies or read too many books. Maybe it was an inner knowing, a feeling in my gut that we’re meant to live in love.
The Engagement
I was 23 when I called off my first engagement. My fiancée and I had irreconcilable differences when it came to the meaning of love and family. He disowned his sister because she married a divorced man and I couldn’t understand how he could do that to her.
My father was a divorced man when my mom met him. If she thought the same as my fiancé, she never would’ve married him and I wouldn’t be here today. Even though we were the same culture and religion, there were other issues that contributed to the breakdown of our engagement, but this was the biggest one.
There was a time when I thought maybe it would be better to marry him anyway. I was worried what people in our community would think about me, about my family, if I called off the wedding. It would be such a scandal, or so I thought.
My mom gave me the courage to call it off mainly because she scared the shit out of me with her Balkan tough love. Of course she noticed I was very unhappy. For a bride to be, the time before the wedding is supposed to be happy, but she could see that I was miserable.
In her no nonsense tone of voice, she said that I’m grown up enough to know that if I’m unhappy before the wedding, that I’ll probably be feeling even worse after the wedding. She was right. I knew it. But I tried to convince her that it won’t be so bad. That it won’t be a love marriage, but more of a companionship marriage.
She looked at me like I was crazy. What she said next finally made me realize this was serious. She said I wouldn’t be welcome in her home if I came there to complain about my marriage. That once I’m married, complaints won’t be allowed and crying won’t be tolerated. And Balkan moms mean it!
It took a couple of months to come to terms with the fact that I had to break off the engagement. I like to believe I handled it with grace and compassion. My fiancé knew it was probably for the best that we go our separate ways, but he was angry and hurt. He cursed me and said that I’d never walk down the aisle because bitches like me don’t deserve to be married. For a while, I think I kinda believed him.
The Marriage
For years afterwards, I dated here and there, but nothing too serious. If I felt that a man wasn’t someone I could fall in love with, I’d rather not waste his time, or mine. I didn’t ever want to give false hope to anyone. And I knew that I needed to love a man’s intellect and spirit, not just his appearance. It was all or nothing.
The man I ended up marrying was someone I’d known since we were 14 years old. Go figure! We grew up in the same neighbourhood but hadn’t seen each other since high school finished. We reconnected at a dear friend’s funeral.
It was a whirlwind courtship. He proposed after three months of dating. He even asked my parents for permission. I said yes and it was a very happy time in my life. I couldn’t believe that, after all those years, I fell in love with someone I grew up with.
The red flags appeared shortly after our engagement. We moved in together as we were planning the wedding. He punched a wall one night. I don’t remember why he was angry, but I do remember that he said it wasn’t a big deal. That it would be an easy repair for him because he’s a contractor.
My anxiety slowly started creeping in but I didn’t recognize it at the time. A week after our wedding, we got into a disagreement about how we would spend the wedding money. Out of anger, he took off his wedding ring and whipped it at my head. A few weeks later, he lost the money gambling.
Several months after the wedding, he wanted to avoid the recession in our city, so we packed up and moved to another city 3000km away. It was just the two of us and our puppy. We both found work very quickly and made a few new friends too.
One of our couple friends from back home flew in for a visit one weekend. He ended up in an angry rage during a sight seeing drive. It was directed at me for an innocent comment I made about the scenery. It was so abrupt and totally uncalled for.
The female friend and I were sitting in the back seat of his truck and I remember she looked at me with such pity, squeezed my hand, and whispered ‘I honestly don’t know how you put up with him. This isn’t normal behaviour.’ I was so embarrassed and ashamed. A part of me wanted to jump out of the truck.
Life went on and it’s not like things were bad all the time. We had some really good times. He always used to say that as long as we’re able to laugh together, that everything was ok. For a very long time, I really felt like that was true.
The Heartbreak
Our first daughter was born a couple of years later. I was on maternity leave with her when I found out he was gambling again. When I confronted him, he seemed genuinely sorry and promised he would stop.
A month later, I discovered that he didn’t stop. I was devastated. I was beyond hurt. Instead of being sorry, he went into a rage and blamed everyone else for his actions. Looking back, that was the moment that I lost my trust in him. It was the beginning of the end.
I’m not one to give up, especially when I said my vows in front of God and a church full of family and friends. Those vows meant everything to me and I desperately wanted to save my marriage. I signed us up for marriage counselling with a highly recommended therapist couple.
Our first session was our last. He didn’t like that the male therapist pointed out his anger management issues. He flew into a rage and they weren’t able to calm him down no matter what they tried.
He eventually stormed out of the room and I was left sitting there in stunned silence with our four month old daughter in my lap. I remember thinking that I’m truly on my own. If professional psychologists weren’t able to calm him down, I stood no chance.
I felt very isolated. I didn’t speak about my issues with anyone. Maybe it was shame. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was that Balkan pride… Whatever it was, it kept me quiet and suffering in silence.
The one time I gathered the courage to ask for help, I reached out to his older sister. She asked me what was I doing to trigger him. This put me on a downward spiral because she made it seem like I was the problem.
I was constantly walking on eggshells because I never knew what would set him off and I wanted to avoid his anger at all costs. I was all alone and felt like I was in survival mode. My baby girl was my only ray of light.
I lost all interest in intimacy. Deep down, I knew that I was no longer attracted to him. How could I be? I didn’t feel safe and I didn’t feel secure. I still loved him, but not in the way a wife should love her husband. It felt like I was in a constant state of fight or flight.
My second pregnancy was a complete surprise. At first, I was worried about bringing another child into this chaos but I also wanted a brother or a sister for our daughter. It was during this second pregnancy that our marriage came crumbling down.
I’ll never forget the night we argued about our entryway door. At the time, he was building an addition to our house. He promised he was going to instal a more secure door but he didn’t. When I asked him about it, instead of having a conversation, he threatened to set the house on fire. I said ‘go ahead’.
I saw his truck pull out of the driveway and, because it was already dark outside, I thought maybe he was going to gamble at the casino. A few minutes later, I smelled something burning. I walked over to the addition and saw a fire burning in the walkout basement.
It took all my strength to put the fire out. There was no electricity or plumbing in the addition. So I had to carry a heavy bucket of water back and forth between the addition and the main house. I was six months pregnant, all alone on a rural acreage, and the nearest fire station was ten kilometres away. When he came home, he acted like nothing happened.
The Divorce
After the c-section birth of our second daughter, he flew into a rage in the hospital room because of a miscommunication about who would call our family back home to tell them the news. My mom was with us at the time and she tried to calm him down, but that only made him angrier.
She was backed into a corner of the hospital room and he swung at her with his fist as if to punch her. He stopped two inches away from her face. He told her she’s no longer welcome in our home.
I was still in pain from surgery and couldn’t move or do anything to stop him. If any of the hospital staff heard what was happening, and I doubt they didn’t hear him, they chose to stay out of it.
He left the hospital room with our older daughter and threatened to set the house on fire. He said “and you know I’m capable of doing it because I’ve done it before”. I changed my mom’s return flight and sent her home. The next two days in the hospital room were a blur of tears. All I could do was pray for strength.
The months that followed were filled with taking care of my daughters and reading as much as I could about abusive relationships. I even went to therapy because he thought it would help my sex drive.
The therapy worked. Not with my sex drive, as he intended. But with the realization that I was in an abusive marriage. That my life didn’t have to be this way.
In the days leading up to our baby’s baptism, we welcomed his mom and sisters plus my brother to our home. He and his middle sister have the same temperament. She ended up causing a scene at the house and verbally attacked me. He defended her. His mother just sat there watching the sparks fly.
My brother couldn’t believe what he witnessed. On the drive to the airport, he begged me to leave the marriage. He said to just come back home and that we’ll figure out a way forward. That nobody should be putting up with this kind of abuse. I knew he was right.
Should I stay or should I go? This question was weighing on me every single moment of every single day. I knew that I didn’t want my girls growing up in that kind of environment. I didn’t want them thinking this type of dynamic was normal. I didn’t want them to end up like me.
I asked him to try marriage counselling one more time. I booked a male counsellor this time because I thought maybe it would be more comfortable for him than the therapist couple from before.
The counsellor patiently listened to both of our stories. As soon as we finished talking, he looked straight at my husband and said “I’ve spent 30 years dealing with men like you and, if you don’t get help for your anger issues, you will end up losing your family.”
I’d like to imagine that hearing this again from another counsellor would’ve made him realize some things. Instead, he stood right up and, once again, started yelling at the counsellor before storming out of the room. I called a divorce lawyer the next day.
I knew now without any doubts that our marriage was over. There wasn’t going to be any saving of it. Both people need to be on the same page in order to make it work. Unfortunately, he chose the path he wanted to be on.
My priority was to get to a safe place, but I didn’t know what to do and where to go. It just so happened that, even though I was on maternity leave, the company I worked for decided to eliminate my position. I took it as a sign from the universe that I should go back home.
He didn’t believe that I was serious about separating from him. He pressured me to stay mostly by yelling and full on theatrics. He put an empty gun to his head and pulled the trigger multiple times. He smashed his head on the marble counter in the kitchen until he was bleeding.
He yelled and raged and threw furniture around. My heart broke when I heard our oldest daughter ask him “Daddy, are you going to shoot yourself?” She was only 3 at the time.
It took me over a month to leave. I gathered what I could into two suitcases and the kids and I flew home for summer vacation. I knew in my heart that I was never going to return.
The Aftermath
Leaving him and starting from scratch didn’t actually mean that I was free or living in peace. His anger followed me everywhere and complicated our separation for years. Friends who knew what I was going through always commented that they don’t understand how he could ‘be that way’.
I quickly realized that the stress of the divorce was very similar to the stress of being in that marriage. If I didn’t figure out how to be at peace, regardless of the chaos around me, I knew I would continue suffering. My daughters deserved to have a mom who was there for them instead of drowning in turmoil.
My faith in God and my love for my daughters kept me going through those challenging years. During that time, I discovered various healing methods and strategies. I attained peace. I believe that everyone is capable of achieving this state of mind and I’ll be sharing my processes, tips, and tricks with you here at TLC.
I believe that, once you’re at peace, everything else comes together. The way you navigate through the world changes. You become more in tune with yourself. You start to live in your truth. You no longer take shit from anyone. And you open yourself to experiences you never thought possible.
Our life is too short to be spent living in fear and suffering.