You Will Be Sane: From the Ashes of Domestic Abuse to the Beauty of Freedom

By Elena Dror

Domestic abuse is a term Elena never thought, in a million years, she would ever be able to apply to her personal life. She is a smart, educated woman. Independent, strong, and confident, and could never understand how a woman would stay in a relationship with a man that was hurting her or - worse - hurting her children.

But she was that woman.

For 10 years, Elena was married to a man that belittled, degraded, isolated her…and hit her children. There are many other women that have been in similar situations, and situations so much worse than hers, whether they lasted less than a year or more than 30. They are all a part of a club they never wanted to join: domestic abuse.

This is not a story meant to draw tears to your eyes or well up pity in your heart. This is a story of faith, strength, and perseverance. This is a story to help break down the stereotypes and misconceptions of what “kind of woman” ends up in a situation like Elena’s, and how there is a loving Savior who desires healing and grace for our lives.

This is not a pretty story (domestic abuse never is) but hang in there as you travel with Elena through the ashes of abuse into the beauty of God’s freedom. Discover how you (or someone you know) can find freedom and healing through Christ; of how He can restore your soul.

If you are in or have escaped domestic abuse, take heart, friend: You will be sane.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798385014637

Elena Dror

Elena lives with her husband, four beautiful children, and a miniature goldendoodle. She enjoys volunteering at church in the worship team and kids’ Sunday school. She is the director of a local homeschool community and works in leadership within a national homeschool organization. When outdoors, the Drors go hiking, biking, kayaking, or doing pretty much anything active or adventurous. For indoor fun, they enjoy bowling, reading, and family movie nights. Elena’s prayer is that one day, the message God has put in her heart will spread across America. And that God will use her story and the message in her heart regarding the biblical roles of husband and wife to effect true change and help prevent future abusive relationships by building strong, resilient families and churches.

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Copyright © 2024 Elena Dror.

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This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

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Unless otherwise indicated, scripture quotations are taken from the (NASB®) New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1971, 1977, 1995, 2020 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. All rights reserved. www.lockman.org"

Scripture quotations marked (NLT) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright ©1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, a Division of Tyndale House Ministries, Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1461-3 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1462-0 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1463-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023923757

WestBow Press rev. date: 02/01/2024

CONTENTS

Introduction

Part 1

Chapter 1   Into the Pot

Chapter 2   Cool Waters

Chapter 3   Lukewarm

Chapter 4   Balmy

Chapter 5   Hazy

Chapter 6   Steaming

Chapter 7   Simmer

Chapter 8   Blistering

Chapter 9   Boiling

Chapter 10  Dead (Almost)

Chapter 11  Free

Chapter 12  Scared

Chapter 13  Lost

Chapter 14  Redeemed

Part 2

Chapter 15  Abuse vs. Abusive Behavior

Chapter 16  Healing

Conclusion

References and Resources

INTRODUCTION

What is wrong with her?

How could she let that go on for so long?

Uneducated.

Weak.

She must not value herself or her children.

Bad mom.

Why didn’t she just leave him?

Domestic abuse. This is a term I never thought, in a million years, I would ever be able to apply to my personal life. I bought into the statements written above. I thought all victims were somehow culpable due to their lack of caring, conviction, strength, education, and self-respect … and the self-righteous list of condemnation goes on. I never could understand how a woman would stay in a relationship with a man who was hurting her or, worse, hurting her children.

But I was that woman.

And I’m sharing my story.

This is not a story meant to draw tears from your eyes or well up pity in your heart. This is a story of faith, strength, and perseverance. This is a story to help break down the stereotypes and misconceptions of what kind of woman ends up in a situation like mine, and how there is a loving Father and Creator that desires healing and grace for our lives.

I am a smart, educated woman. I am independent, strong, and confident. I am a believer in hard work and of taking life by the horns. And I was married to a man who belittled, degraded, isolated me … and hit my children. I was married to this man for over ten years. And I know many other women who have been in similar situations and situations so much worse than mine, whether they lasted less than a year or more than thirty. We’re all part of a club we never wanted to join: domestic abuse.

I would like to share my story with you.

My prayer is that one day, the message God has put in my heart will spread across America. And that God will use my story and the message in my heart regarding the biblical roles of husband and wife (which I will share in my next book) to effect true change and help prevent future abusive relationships by building strong, resilient families and churches.

Reader beware: my story is not a pretty one. Domestic abuse is ugly, and I thought long and hard about how I would depict it in this book. I’m a Christian, after all, and don’t say certain words or talk about certain topics because they are not pleasing to God. Well, friends, domestic abuse is not pleasing to God. To appeal to a larger audience and get my message of domestic abuse and healing out to more of the world, I have not included curse words in this book though definitely there was plenty of cursing and vulgar talk during my time with Charlie. I don’t want to place those words in your mind. However, though I will not include actual curse words, the content will be strong. There is subject matter that will make you uncomfortable. But hang in there because there will also be redemption, love, and restoration from an amazing, all-powerful, all-seeing, gracious God.

If you put a frog in boiling water, it will jump right out. If you put a frog in warm water and gradually turn up the heat, it will stay there until it dies.

—Unknown

PART 1

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CHAPTER 1

INTO THE POT

I first met Charlie on a reputable dating website. I was sick with some sort of intense head cold and bored out of my mind that lazy week in December. I was also a big nerd who loved psychology and was really interested in the personality profile this site was boasting about on all their TV commercials. (Remember commercials?)

So out of curiosity and boredom (maybe the cold meds had something to do with it as well), I took their personality quiz and ended up with a free thirty-day trial. I figured, why not? So I started filling out my profile page. Keep in mind, this was back in 2007 when dating sites were not nearly as widely used as they are now. I was being completely scandalous and totally hip.

I had a couple of matches right away, men who wanted a good housewife who stayed barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen—nothing I was really interested in. My thirty-day trial was halfway over when I was matched with Charlie. Right away, there was a connection. His profile picture was at a distance, so I couldn’t really make out what he looked like. But he was leaning against an old barn in a beautiful field, holding a guitar. Attractive, right?

We started with the normal chitchat. He said he loved Jesus, played guitar on the worship team, was an emergency medical technician (EMT) and volunteer firefighter, and loved all things outdoors. He seemed like a match made in heaven for this Jesus-loving, music-playing, nature-seeking girl from the big city!

I joked about how the cold I just had lasted a long time, and it was good we were messaging because I sounded like a dying yak. He told me he was more like a mixture of a silverback gorilla and a koala—strong, bold, fiercely loyal, and loved a good snuggle session. I decided to purchase another month of the dating site subscription.

We messaged each other every day, often multiple times a day. I found myself looking forward to any moment I had to go check my profile for a new message. This was before smartphones were as popular, so I was actually going to a computer to check messages. I know, hard to imagine!

Charlie was becoming a bright spot in my day, each message making me giddier about this blond-haired, blue-eyed, Jesus-loving country boy.

I was youth pastoring at the time and was headed out with a group of teenagers to Idaho for an annual skiing trip. It was Charlie’s birthday that weekend, and I was bummed I wouldn’t be able to wish him a happy birthday on that day. But I was also pretty stoked about a weekend of Jesus and the mountains with my students.

It was early morning, before sunrise, and I had a van full of sleepy teens. We were about an hour into the trip, rounding a corner in the left lane of the highway, when my parents, who were driving a Ford Explorer in front of me, hit black ice and began spinning like a top.

Taking my foot off the gas, I watched my parents spin in front of me, the storage rack on the top of the vehicle exploding skis and poles across the highway. All I could do was repeat, Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! They clipped the mirror off a truck in the right lane next to them and spun a couple more times, before smoothly pulling over onto the side of the road.

It was a miracle. My parents were safe.

It was dark and I suddenly found myself stuck on a blind curve in the middle of an icy highway with now very awake, very terrified teenagers.

Some of the skis that flew out of their storage rack had lodged under my front tires, and I couldn’t get out of the left lane. Cars were whizzing by, just barely missing us as they too hit the black ice. After a few terrifying moments, the skis broke loose. I was able to safely pull over to the side of the road and give my parents enormous hugs.

You can guarantee some of those teenagers were thinking hard about how seriously they were going to take this whole God thing after that! The whole experience was truly a story of God’s miraculous protection.

Of course, we had to cancel the trip. After getting my students calmed and safely back to their parents, one of the first things I did was send Charlie a note about the whole ordeal. I was still a bit shaken up and in disbelief that it all happened. I typed it all out in dramatic detail, explaining how I honestly thought I was about to watch my parents die right in front of me with a carload full of adolescents and how amazed I was at God’s protection.

Within a few minutes, I received a response, and his opening line made my cheeks flush and my stomach do a little flip, Oh, sweetheart …

He called me sweetheart! Truly, it probably took me a full five minutes to get past those two words before I could read the rest of his note. He hadn’t used any endearments when messaging me before. It gave me butterflies.

Charlie went on to compliment how well I told the story and how impressed he was that I maintained my composure through it all as if I was wired to work in emergency response. He said I was so strong and such an amazing woman. My twenty-two-year-old heart melted.

OK, some of you are probably like Really? ‘Sweetheart’ and a few compliments melted your heart? Do you have no self-respect? So let me take a moment to give you a little history of Elena. I grew up as a youth and worship pastor’s daughter. I was homeschooled from sixth through tenth grade before I put myself in community college at age sixteen and worked my way through to a bachelor’s degree in business and psychology at a local university.

I was a good kid, a rule follower to the extreme. I was a bit prudish, yes, but completely and absolutely in love with Jesus. I was also a tomboy who kind of looked like a boy until my mom’s friend gave me a makeover when I was nineteen. It still took me a few years to figure out how to dress myself properly and do my makeup (OK, I’m still figuring that out). Attention from the opposite sex was a bit new to me at twenty-two. I was a bookworm, brainy, brawny, bold, and a pastor’s kid—not many men approached me.

I also bought into the incorrect and dangerous dogmatic belief that women are subservient to men and that it was my job to make sure the men around me were happy and comfortable. My job was to watch everything I do, say, and especially wear, so it wouldn’t be a burden or temptation to the males around me. And, above all else, to keep myself pure for the man I would marry one day.

Before I continue with my story, I would like to say that I believe a husband and wife should chase after God together, seek Him in all they do, and partner together to lead their children toward the same goal. They should challenge each other, love each other, pray together, be gracious of the others’ shortcomings, spur one another on toward growth, and keep constant open and honest communication. I also believe that, in this partnership, the husband is the spiritual head of the household, not to lord with a heavy hand or to force anything upon his wife or children, but to lead by example in love and his relationship with God. The husband should love his wife, as Christ loved the church and sacrificed Himself for her, and invite his family along in his journey of the pursuit of Christ.

When a man loves a woman like this, and truly partners with her, he earns the trust it takes for her to follow his lead during uncertain and difficult times. This man also considers his wife’s counsel in these decisions and—shocker—may defer to her wisdom rather than his own at times because, ultimately, his goal is to lead his family toward a relationship with God, not to have all the answers.

This doesn’t negate that wives are to submit to their husbands, but rather it fosters a trust, which empowers her to do it as a natural expression of her love for God and her husband.

Unfortunately, I didn’t quite understand this when I was fresh out of college, ridiculously awkward around men, and longing to earn the Mrs. Degree my pastor’s wife constantly reminded me of.

So this is not a story of some wayward pastor’s kid who had a come-to-Jesus experience. This is the story of a good Christian girl who, due to her impatience and misconceptions regarding love and marriage, married the wrong man.

Let’s go back to the story.

Shortly after the sweetheart email, Charlie and I moved to texting. It was so exciting! A boy who loved Jesus and thought I was cute was talking to me every day. It is amazing how much one will share with a text screen that you might not share in person. The relationship progressed quickly, and we moved to Skype. This was before webcams were automatically included with computers and laptops. It was when long-distance charges on cell phones were a thing, so we were just using Skype to avoid charges—no video.

We moved to Skype because Charlie had called me from his parents’ landline once and racked up a two-hundred-dollar phone bill. He didn’t have enough money to cover it because he was so busy studying for his firefighting exam that he hadn’t been working much. This was his story to me. So I covered the majority of the phone bill.

39256.jpg  First red flag: They ask you for money but in a way that makes it seem like it was actually your idea.

Our relationship continued to blossom over the next couple of weeks, and I felt all warm and fuzzy every evening as I went to bed. He shared about his drug and alcohol-addicted biological mom who couldn’t take care of him, so his grandparents took him in and then put him up for adoption when he was fifteen months old. He was adopted by a wealthy couple at eighteen months and had a pretty cushy upbringing until his mom started treating him like he was less than worthy of love.

Charlie shared that he learned he was adopted when his mom was mad at him one day and said, Well, you know what? You’re not even my real kid. You were adopted. He was six years old.

He said she would hit him and yell at him and tell him how horrible he was when he was off his Ritalin. How she chipped his tooth with a slap to the face one day. And how, one afternoon, he had had enough and pushed her down the stairs, which he said brought down the frequency of the hitting.

One time, while we were Skyping, I heard her in the background telling him it was late and he shouldn’t be on the phone. He was twenty-one, in his own room, and it was 10:00 p.m. Suddenly, the sound went muffled and I could hear him adjusting his headset. He came back on and said she slapped him across the face, and it knocked his headset off.

Charlie explained how he used to hide in his closet as a kid and cry out to God, asking to go back to his biological mom because at least she would love him.

My heart hurt so deeply for Charlie, and I felt this need to show him what real love and acceptance was. I wanted him to know that he didn’t deserve that kind of treatment and that he was worth so much more.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but my empathy was leading me into a toxic relationship with Charlie, one where I gave and gave, pouring myself into him to try to fix him with my love and compassion all while rarely receiving encouragement and support in return.

39283.jpg  Red flag: If you are thinking you can fix whomever you are with, you are sadly mistaken. Yes, love people and ask God to help you be an agent of change, but don’t tie yourself to someone who isn’t in a spiritual, emotional, or otherwise healthy state to be a solid partner for you.

And, unfortunately, I’m not alone in this. My desire to help and heal Charlie led me on a path of pain and destruction that my naïve twenty-two-year-old self never saw coming.

I opened up to Charlie about my past pain as well—how I had a hard time making true friendships, how much I loved ministry, especially worship and youth, and how lonely