My nightmare began in 1982 when I was 17-years-old. I say nightmare because the day came that I woke up and climbed out of the darkness. Back into the world of the living and breathing and out of the hands of the man who brutalized me for 12 years.

I met my ex-husband while I was still a senior in high school. He quickly pulled me away from my family and friends by monopolizing all of my free time. I paid little attention to this. I was young and caught up in the idea of someone paying an unlimited amount attention to me.

At graduation I was awarded a full acedemic scholarship to one of the top colleges in the state only two hours from home. As soon as my ex-husband found this out he proposed. The only condition he made was that I not accept the scholarship. Stupidly, I agreed to marry him and gave up my scholarship.

At my father's insistance I started college at the local community college and was married a short time later. Within three months after getting married I became pregnant with my first child. Within six months of getting married I was beaten for the first time.

He begged and pleaded and swore it would never happen again. I was young, pregnant, and in love so I stayed and promised to never tell anyone what had happened, especially my father.

I think the fear that my father would help me leave kept him from beating me for a while. But my father soon became ill and died and the abuse began again.

I was beaten, kicked, threatened, and verbally assaulted for years. I've had ribs broken, black eyes, busted lips, and so badly bruised I've worn long sleeves and pants during the summer to hide them. I've had knives held to my throat, loaded guns put to my head, hammers swung at my head, and any of a wide range of other objects came sailing through the air at me.

Why did I stay? There were many reasons. I had been distanced from my family to the point that I felt I couldn't ask for their help. I had hidden all of the abuse, so they all still believed him to be a "good" guy. I had three children under the age of 10, the youngest with chronic asthma which required constant attention and several hospitalizations. I had completed my college degree, but had not held a job in several years. I had also suffered several injuries in a head-on wreck with a coal truck that left me physically unable to work in my field. But I guess the biggest reason was that from a religious stand point, I didn't believe in divorce. And the fact that I had failed at giving my children the life they deserved.

For years I had been kept from my friends and family, but I began to fight back. I got involved with the girl scouts and soon took a troop of my own. I made friends with the mothers of the girls I had in the troop. This did cause us to fight even more, but I was tired of having no one to talk to.

I became friends with a lady that I had attended high school with. She just happened to be married to my ex-husband's best friend, so he couldn't object too much. She became my entire support system through my divorce.

After many long discussions, I realized I had to get out. I finally felt strong enough to stand up to him. One final fight on Christmas brought about the end to my nightmare. He held a knife to my throat in front of my children for the last time. The terror in their eyes was my awakening. I demanded that he leave or I was going to call the police.

He did leave for a few days, but caught me gone and was in the house when I came home. I agreed to try one last time, but within a matter of days there was a new hole in my bedroom wall where he had missed me while swinging his guitar.

That was enough. When he left for work the next morning, I went to a magistrate and had him served with a restraining order.

The divorce was long and was bitter. He made several threats to kill me if I didn't stop the divorce and even broke in the house on me and the children. This time I did call the police, but due to the lack of laws protecting women in West Virginia he got away with it. I know that if I had not reached the phone that day and managed to dial 911 I would be dead. His control of me was gone and he wasn't about to let me just walk out.

He threatened to try to take my kids from me, but in the end he realized there was no point. Not only was I not giving in to his threats, but I had been the primary caretaker of the kids. The court would never give him custody.

After 18 long months I had my divorce, my kids, and my home. He had the bills, alimony payments, and child support payments until the year 2008.

It's been a long struggle to make a new life for myself. My ex-husband hardly ever sees the children, so I get little time to myself. I have since become totally disabled from injuries of the car wreck and the emotional scars left behind from the years of abuse.

I have had several rounds of therapy trying to deal with the depression of a failed marriage, the anger from the abuse, and what the doctors have labeled Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Each day is a struggle, but some are worse than others.

The hardest thing for me to deal with is not the abuse itself, but the fact that I let him do this to me repeatedly, for years. The shear humiliation of letting another human being take total control of my life. Letting him tell me how to dress, what to think, where I could go, who I could talk to, and keeping tabs on every minute I was away from our home. I am ashamed that I let this happen to me. I let him take control. I should have left after the first blow.

I can remember the first 4th of July after we separated. As I watched the fireworks and listened to the Star Spangeled Banner, I suddenly felt like I had been let out of prison after years and years. That day I discovered the true meaning of freedom and independence.

It has been almost nine years since my marriage ended. I have been involved in a few relationships, but none that have lasted for long. Out of my own fear of ever getting back into an abusive marriage, I have pushed the men away when the started talking marriage and planning our future. That is until now.

For the first time in my life I have a man in my life who loves me for me. He understands the emotional pain I have been through and he has gained my trust. He has reached into my heart and past all the walls that I have built over the years. Several times I have tried to push him away, but he is stubborn and stood his ground. I am proud of the fact that I can call him my friend first and foremost. This is the kind of love that I have dreamed of all my life.

No, I have not made the final commitment to him of marriage. While I know I want to spend the rest of my life with him, I don't know if I am ready for marriage. I want this to be my last marriage. The man I grow old with. And yes I do love him that much. Some days I think, "Yes, I can do this. He is the one." But, then the fear seeps back in. What if i fail again?

No, this lady is not against marriage. I still believe that two people should fall in love and become one. But for the right reasons. And for the first time in a long time I can proudly say that I would like to get married again. For many years I have avidly protested ever giving up my freedom again. So much so that I was dubbed "The Runaway Bride" by a close friend. And when I discovered the internet that is the name I took as my alias. I'm sure to many it is amusing. But, sadly it's true. And I use the nic to more or less protect me. A lot of men are curious and look at it as a challenge to catch the "runaway bride". But, the nic speaks volumes of who I really am.

Throughout the whole ordeal I have kept my faith in God. I know that without God I would not have made it through. He has watched over us and provided for us and has blessed us by giving us a family at last. It is through God that I have gained the strength to overcome the pain to the point that I have. It is through God that I have been able to forgive my ex-husband for the years of abuse. And it is through God that I have gathered the strength to write my story and build this website. With prayer all things can be overcome. I will kept my faith in God to continue healing my wounds.

Although it has been a struggle, I have managed to restore my relationship with my family and friends somewhat. My family doesn't understand a lot of what I go through and this does keep some distance between us still. One day I hope to completely repair this distance. I have just recently located my best friend from high school. Although many years have passed since we've seen and talked to one another, I realize now why we were such good friends. She was there for me before my marriage and now she is there for me again. She is a true friend.

My story is not unique. Unfortunately, many other woman live each day in the violent life I once lived. I have shared my story with you, for them. If you or someone you know is being abused, help them. Be their support and help them find a way to get out. Help them to find their freedom again, so when they celebrate the next 4th of July, they can really feel what it means to be free.

My road back to totally overcoming the emotional scars is still ahead. I will carry a lot of them the rest of my life, but my path out of the darkness and the nightmare is over.