Ever Faithful to His Lead; My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse

By Kathleen Pooler

Nothing can rescue her until she decides to rescue herself

How does a young woman from a stable, loving family make so many wise choices when it comes to career, but so many poor choices when it comes to love?

Kathy must face her self-defeating patterns before she and her children become a statistic.
Her life and the lives of her two children depend upon the choices she makes, and the chances she takes.

Join Kathy on her roller-coaster ride of self-discovery, from shame and guilt to inner strength in her tears to triumph story.

“Good girl travels a rocky road to become a strong woman. Kathleen Pooler's experience and insights capture the essence of an era, and this crisply written volume will inspire any reader.” ~ Sharon Lippincott, author of "The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing"

“...provides us with a deep well of wisdom—and a cautionary tale that will resonate with every woman.” ~ Lynne M. Spreen, author of "Dakota Blues"

“If you have ever despaired as a parent or partner, knowing you have made a wrong choice but not knowing how to move forward, you will find courage, hope, and strength in these pages.” ~ Shirley Showalter, author of Blush: A Mennonite Girl Meets a Glittering World

Kathleen Pooler is a retired Family Nurse Practitioner and active memoir writer. She believes in the power of hope and writing to transform, heal and transcend life’s obstacles and disappointments. She writes weekly at her Memoir Writer’s Journey blog.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Books Press
• Release date: Jul 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781941799017

Kathleen Pooler

Kathleen Pooler is a retired Family Nurse Practitioner and writer. Her memoir, "Ever Faithful to His Lead: My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse" and work-in-progress sequel, "Hope Matters: A Memoir" are about how the power of hope through her faith in God helped her to transform, heal and transcend life’s obstacles and disappointment—domestic abuse, divorce, single parenting, loving and letting go of an alcoholic son, cancer and heart failure—to live a life of joy and contentment. She believes hope matters and that we are all strengthened and enlightened when we share our stories.One of Kathleen’s stories “The Stone on the Shore” is published in the anthology: "The Woman I’ve Become: 37 Women Share Their Journeys From Toxic Relationships to Self-Empowerment" by Pat LaPointe, 2012. Another story: “Choices and Chances” is published in the "My Gutsy Story Anthology" by Sonia Marsh, September, 2013.She writes weekly at her Memoir Writer’s Journey blog: krpooler dot com.She lives with her husband Wayne in eastern New York.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Foreword by Susan Weidner

Preface

Part One: The Awakening, 1954-1988

Chapter 1         Escape, 1988

Chapter 2         The Nightmare, 1988

Chapter 3         A Love Like No Other, 1986

Chapter 4         Tangled Roots, 1954

Chapter 5         Childhood Memories, 1955

Chapter 6         Maiden Voyage

Chapter 7         A Nurse is Born, 1967

Part Two: The Elusive Search, 1970-1983

Chapter 8         Someday My Prince Will Come, 1970

Chapter 9         St. Patrick’s Day, 1971

Chapter 10       Still Waters Run Deep, 1971

Chapter 11       The Springtime of Promises, 1971

Chapter 12       Spring Rush, 1971

Chapter 13       The Engagement, 1971

Chapter 14       The Battle of the Silver Pattern, 1971

Chapter 15       Wedding Prelude, 1971

Chapter 16       The Point of No Return, 1971

Chapter 17       Another Reason to Hope, 1972

Chapter 18       Sitting By The Bay Window, 1973

Chapter 19       The Birth of a Family, 1973

Chapter 20       Reality Bites, 1974

Chapter 21       A Dream Away, 1975

Chapter 22       The Fall Semester, 1975

Chapter 23       A Son Arrives, 1975

Chapter 24       Climbing Higher, 1976

Chapter 25       New Years Eve Resolution, 1976

Chapter 26       True Confessions, New Year’s Day, 1977

Chapter 27       The Day I See My Soul, 1977

Chapter 28       The Straw That Broke the Camel’s Back

Chapter 29       A Newly Single Life, 1977

Chapter 30       The Dating Dilemma

Chapter 31       Moving On, 1979

Chapter 32       The Hot Air Balloon Festival, 1982

Chapter 33       A Prophecy, 1983

Part Three: Second Time Around, 1983-1990

Chapter 34       Two Moves in Eight Months

Chapter 35       Second Chance Love, 1984

Chapter 36       Second Chance Marriage, 1985

Chapter 37       New Hope Turns Into a Reign of Terror in Missouri, 1987

Part Four: Jagged Journey to Self, 1987-1990

Chapter 38       Cancer Changes Things, 1988

Chapter 39       Turning Point, 1988

Chapter 40       Moments of Clarity, 1988

Chapter 41       Christmas in Corning, 1988

Chapter 42       The Journey Home, 1990

Epilogue

Book Discussion Questions

Share the Hope

About the Author

Foreword

By Susan Weidener

In her debut memoir, Ever Faithful to His Lead: My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse, Kathy Pooler offers a heartfelt look into her search for Prince Charming, false expectations, abusive men, and the realities of life colliding with fantasies of happily-ever-after.

A vibrant presence in the community of memoir writing as a way of healing, she writes that her poor choices led to a man who drank too much, and another who verbally abused me. Not that I feel sorry for myself. I see now my choices were my own. It is this honesty and authenticity of voice that fans of Kathy Pooler will find so appealing. Not every writer can put their pain as well as their vulnerability so intimately on the page. Kathy succeeds in bringing us along on a journey that spans close to two decades; from marriage and motherhood, to her career as a successful RN, to portraits of her own childhood where her parents set the early template for her desire to recreate what she calls a stable and loving family.

In quintessential Kathy Pooler style, which those who have followed her writing and her blog Memoir Writer’s Journey have come to love and expect, she eloquently writes how her faith and deep Catholic roots brought about hope and belief in herself. Surely this memoir will resonate with readers who have traveled similar roads of choices, good and bad, hope and renewal.

Susan G. Weidener ~ author of Again in a Heartbeat, a memoir of love, loss

and dating again and its sequel Morning at Wellington Square

Preface

Life is a dance. I grew up at a time when Cinderella nurtured every little girl’s dream to be asked to the Ball. My Catholic faith and my parents’ own devoted relationship infused me with the expectation that marriage was a lifetime commitment, a sacred vow not to be broken. In an age of innocence, with the cotillion a week away, I accepted my partner’s invitation to avoid hurting his feelings. At the age of twelve, happily ever after faded away as I danced with the wrong partner and to the wrong music. This set the tempo for my choices of future partners. I continued to dance, placing my trust in the arms of more than one partner who whirled me around until my head spun, flush with hope and anticipation, ever faithful to his lead.

A pattern was set, where I chose a partner, dreamed of happily ever after, and ignored the bad music and worse dancing. And so I danced, out of step with what I needed and wanted. I continued, when I really wanted to stop.

Part One

The Awakening, 1954-1988

Chapter 1

Escape, 1988

Dave, I whispered into the phone, You have to tell me.

I hated calling Dan’s eldest son. In the three years Dan and I had been married, I’d never called any of his four adult children, even though I secretly questioned my decision to marry Dan many times. My parents’ recent visit had shed new light on my choices. In fact, I already had a plan in place, making me hypervigilant and wary at that moment.

It had only been one year since Dan was transferred from the previous hospital in Wisconsin. We’d been trying to make a new start. He seemed to be doing well as administrator of the local hospital in Missouri, which left me with a few strands of hope to grab onto.

But I had to know.

Did your dad ever hurt your mother?

I trusted Dave. Of Dan’s children, I felt the closest to him and I knew he’d be honest with me. Dave and I had shared a special bond in the short time we’d known each other, going for walks and talking about our lives. Dave seemed closer to Dan than any of the other siblings, always coming to his dad’s defense whenever they recounted negative memories of growing up. His brothers Earl and Mark often seemed edgy and distant in their dad’s presence.

As I waited for Dave’s answer, I felt a sense of dread wash over my body. I scanned the basement office. I had retreated there after Dan raged on wild-eyed and shoved his finger in my face because Mom put the bread in the refrigerator.

His verbal abuse had escalated in the past year since we had moved to Missouri and his diagnosis of colon cancer spun our lives out of control. Still, this latest outburst was different. He had never hit me, but I felt physically threatened for the first time in our marriage when he leaned in close to me and grazed my nose with his shaking finger. I flinched and stepped back after looking up into his cold, glaring eyes and feeling his hot breath on my face, wondering how this man who once seemed like the answer to my prayers had slowly turned into an angry stranger. His face was wrinkled and flushed; wisps of blond-gray tendrils from his receding hairline jutted out in several directions.

Kathy, Dave said, hesitating. There have been some incidents. Dad always had a bad temper. One night, he choked Mom. If I hadn’t been there, he might have killed her.

I sank deeper into the chair, an icy awareness coursing through my body as I tried to absorb the truth. I had seen that anger many times but had learned to walk away. Now the thought that my children and I could be in real danger made me shudder.

Why, Dave? I asked, feeling betrayed and confused. Why didn’t you tell me before now?

Because I wanted to believe he had changed. We all did. He seemed so happy with you.

I sat in silence, still anchored to my chair. I slowly hung up the phone. The familiar memories flashed back to me like a deck of cards being shuffled, one after the other. In that moment, so many sporadic inklings of discomfort over the past three years seemed to jell into one clear picture of an undeniable problem—Dan was not stable and may even be dangerous. I remember the strange looks I had received when I was first introduced at a family reunion in Kentucky soon after our 1985 wedding. I thought it was because his family wondered why he had taken on a woman fifteen years his junior with two preteen children while his own were adults. Now I wasn’t sure.

Painful memories raced through my mind the sudden angry outburst aimed at his youngest son, Mark came out of nowhere as we stood in Dave’s driveway one Sunday morning during a summer vacation. Dan threw Leigh Ann’s bike across the yard when we found it lying in the driveway as we returned from a shopping trip.

And what about the day he whipped Brian with his belt after convincing me he was doing it out of love and concern for him? The vision of my whimpering eleven-year-old son still haunts me. I shudder to think that I allowed the whipping, although I had tried to convince Dan not to do it. Brian had been difficult to control when I met Dan. I welcomed the strong presence of a man in our lives, one who could step in and be a role model for my son. But had I allowed him too much control? Regret seeped deeply into my bones.

Of course, those were just a few of the many behaviors that had escalated over the years. . . I’d struggled, believing deeply, after one failed marriage, that I had to make this one last; hoping, with every positive sign that things would change.

The week before, Mom and I had met for lunch with my new Trenton friends Meredith and Denise. Inevitably, the topic of Dan’s volatile behavior came up. Heads nodding, they all agreed that I needed to leave that controlling, dangerous man. What started out as a friendly social visit developed into a plan for my escape.

Kathy, he tracks you down to the number of miles you put on the van, Meredith said.

He talks down to you, Kathy. I saw that the very first time we met, Denise added. Remember, we all had gone out to dinner at The Gables when you moved into town?

That day, I sat there watching their heads bob up and down in resolve over what I needed to do, wondering how I could have dismissed all those signs. I certainly had seen them. I kept wishing for a change, hanging on to any bit of hope I could. At the time of our visit, they saw the need to act right away, further confirming Mom’s nagging fears. I hadn’t been sure I would follow through, though I knew they were right.

But when Dan shook his finger in my face, I realized I had to follow the plan for my own safety and the safety of my children. Even if I still hadn’t felt ready to take action, the three women stood by me like sentries guarding a palace. They made me feel safe. They were all happily married, as I had longed to be. And having witnessed the strong, loving bonds between my parents my entire life, I had expected the same for myself.

Meredith was attractive, slight of build, and always impeccably dressed. We joked about how she led an Ozzie-and- Harriet life with a caring husband, two small boys, and a beautiful Victorian home on a well-manicured lawn. I found myself longing for the type of stable, long-term marriage she and Gary had. Because she had grown up in the area, she had a lot of contacts. She gave me the name and number of a lawyer in town, one with a no-nonsense reputation. She arranged for me to stay with our mutual friends Dean and Carol who had an apartment above the Ace Hardware store they managed on Main Street. I could keep my car in the hidden garage in the back of the store.

Denise was a former Marine who took charge of anything she came across. At five feet eight inches, she had a commanding presence, and when she spoke in her thick, Midwestern drawl, her honesty and sense of humor captivated me. She married Bill, her second husband, after his first wife died of cancer. We met during 5 a.m. walks on the high-school track soon after I moved into town. She helped Brian with batting practice. Estranged from her only child, she had taken Leigh and Brian under her wing and was always ready to lend a helping hand. When I asked her what had happened with her son, she shrugged her shoulders and said, We all just gotta move forward. She never elaborated, and I never pressed the issue, but I had the sense that the estrangement was deeply painful for her. Helping me seemed to help her.

The rest of the plan called for Denise to come over to be with me when I filed the Emergency Order of Protection. The kids would go to school as usual, and I would pick them up during the day.

Now, as I hung up the phone after talking with Dan’s son, the picture of Dan and his past were coming into focus. It all made sense, and I knew what I needed to do. The tension and angry outbursts had been building to greater intensity since we moved to Missouri and especially in the past few months after Dan’s diagnosis. I hated the thought of another divorce, but my awakening sense of physical danger was the final straw. He was leaving me no choice. I couldn’t risk my kids being hurt.

I had to leave.

I called Denise before I went upstairs to let her know I had decided to follow through.

I’m ready, I said, filling her in on the details of my call with

Dave. It’s scary, but I finally see I have no choice.

Good, she answered, I was hoping I’d get this call. Call me as soon as Dan leaves for work in the morning and I’ll drive you to the sheriff’s office.

I just had to make it through the night without incident, without letting on to Dan or the kids that we would be gone when he returned from work the next day. But how was I going to make it through the night calmly and safely?

Gripped by fear, I stood up and looked around the windowless, finished basement office then slowly began walking past the still- unpacked boxes that lined the wall at the end of the room. The sewing machine with fabric remnants piled nearby reminded me of the unfinished projects waiting for me. They seemed like a minor concern in the darkness of the moment.

As I turned the corner to climb the stairs, I glanced at the multiple family photos and collages on the wall, mostly of Dan’s family. . . Mom had asked about the lack of our family pictures during her recent visit. I had no answer. I knew she was right. I had allowed Dan to shut out my family. How could I have let that happen? My family meant the world to me. How had I allowed Dan to control me like that?

Flushed with escalating fear as I climbed each step, I repeated to myself, I just need to make it through the night. I just need to make it through the night. My heart pounded in my chest; breathing became a conscious effort. I had to keep telling myself to exhale, because the tendency to want to hold my breath overwhelmed me. Just get through the night.

When I reached the top of the staircase and rounded the corner, I saw my children Leigh Ann, fourteen, and Brian, twelve, sprawled out on the living room couch watching TV in the dark. Dan was sitting across from them in the recliner, body upright, feet planted firmly on the floor, elbows draped on the armrests, and hands folded on his lap. Although he was calmer than he had been earlier, tension lay heavily in the silence of the evening, like dark clouds suspended above. The lights from the TV flickered. I felt the urge to flee at that very moment. Be calm. Breathe, I told myself.

I wiggled in between Leigh Ann and Brian and patted their legs as they shifted to make room for me. Brian moved from his end of the couch and leaned against my shoulder. Leigh Ann stayed on the other end but placed her feet on my legs. Their gangly limbs draped over me as I rubbed Leigh Ann’s foot and Brian’s arm. I needed to be as close to them as possible.

What are you guys watching? I asked with feigned casualness. The thought of Dan strangling his ex-wife in a moment of anger kept flashing through my mind. . . Breathe, breathe; just get through the night.

Some movie, Brian answered, his dark brown eyes darting to look at me. It felt like a silent acknowledgment that he sensed something was wrong but knew not to say anything. Dan’s gaze remained glued on the TV. I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I didn’t want to ask.

We sat locked in time, watching a movie about a stepfather who was plotting to kill his new family. The parallel heightened my terror. I felt like I was watching my own life on TV as my perpetrator sat stiffly and silently across the room.

Punkin, Daddy loves you, the stepfather crooned to his young stepdaughter while planning her murder and that of her mother and her sibling.

I flashed back to the times Dan called Leigh Ann punkin. Breathe; breathe. . . Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dan sitting quietly, like a king on his throne contemplating war with another nation. How are we going to get through the night?

The movie finally ended with the stepfather getting caught, his plot foiled. Relieved it was over, but astonished by the irony of the film’s subject, I maintained my mask of normalcy.

Time for bed, I said, giving Leigh Ann and Brian a hug. Dan had gone into the bedroom without saying goodnight.

After the kids went into their rooms, I sat down in the living room and reviewed my plan for the next day while the scenes from the movie played over and over in my head.

When I heard Dan snore, I slowly opened the bedroom door and got ready for bed. I slid into my side of the bed and began holding vigil, eyes wide open, staring

Reviews for Ever Faithful to His Lead; My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse

[sherrey_meyer-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Having known Kathy Pooler for some years now and exchanging writing ideas via Internet, phone and blogs as well as assisting Kathy as a beta reader for her memoir, I am unable to give an unbiased review.However, I am able to tell you that from vignettes written here and there, Kathy has pulled together a stellar written work which not only tells her story honestly but also provides hope for others walking the same path.Kathy's growing up was parented by a loving couple who always appeared happy and stable. Members of the Catholic faith, service above all else was the message passed on to their children. Hence, Kathy's interest in nursing and her compassion for others.Kathy dreamed of that perfect marriage, just like mom and dad's. Yet choices made in her first two marriages did not play out like the perfect image Kathy saw in her dreams. Concerned with her own safety and that of her children, Kathy left her first husband and promised herself to make a better choice next time. And yet once again that did not happen.During these trials, Kathy worked hard both on the job and in advancing her education while still maintaining her role as a mother to her daughter and son. She continued to dream her dream of a good husband.Soon Kathy begins to see what choices she needs to make in order to bring her life into focus and find happiness. From this decision came the title for Kathy's memoir.I highly recommend Kathy's memoir to anyone living in an abusive situation, with or without children, and to anyone who has a son or daughter in an abusive relationship. While we as parents are not always able to say what we feel to our adult children, Kathy's book will give you an understanding of how to cope as your adult child works through these problems and signs you can watch for to know what is happening.DISCLAIMER: I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for a fair and honest review. The opinions expressed are solely my own.

[wandasue-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Ever Faithful To His Lead: My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse. The book opens with Kathy realizing, after three years of marriage, that something was very wrong. She looked into the cold, glaring eyes and felt his hot breath on her face. She wondered how the man who once seemed like the answer to her prayers had slowly turned into an angry stranger. Furthermore, he showed no signs of changing. She wanted to believe his promises, the way many of us do with our mate, until reality hits us like a stun gun. Then, as numerous women before, we look back and notice that the red flags were there all along, but, because of our desperate need for love, we unwisely chose to ignore the signs.Then Kathy backs up and shows us a glimpse into her growing up years, along with photographs. Kathy grew up with a loving and stable family. Her parents had been high school sweethearts. When her mom told stories of how they fell in love, Kathy was mesmerized. She dreamed of finding a man who would care for her like her own father loved and cared for her mother. She wanted to find her own “Prince Charming.”One day she met a tall, likable man whose broad smile warmed her heart. Was he the prince she'd been waiting for? Their relationship moved so fast. He asked her to marry him. She never even entertained the idea that her feelings of discomfort were warning signs. Even when uncertainly washed over her. Even when he picked her up for a date with the strong stench of alcohol filling the car. Even when a friend said, “You don't have to marry him.” She didn't listen. She didn't call off the wedding.He was tender and loving, when he was sober. She told herself it would get better. It didn't. Not even after two children. Then came the final straw, her world crumbled and she filed for a divorce.Single again. Her master's degree in nursing enabled her to land a job. She went through a few years of struggles, healing, and a series of sporadic dating. But no one serious. Until she met the man who sent her heart fluttering. His voice was smooth with a touch of a Southern drawl. It had been a long time since she felt excited about a man. The attraction was mutual. Kathy had hope for a second chance at love. After a few weeks they were married.But new hope turned into a reign of terror. Kathy shows true courage to do what she thinks is best, for the safety of herself and her children. This is a must read. I couldn't put it down and look for more great books from Kathy.