I Closed My Eyes
Revelations of A Battered Woman
Michele Weldon
Copyright © 2012 Michele Weldon
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.
The Publisher makes no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. Neither the publisher nor author shall be liable for any loss of profit or any commercial damages.
2012-09-05
Dedication
For my late mother, Mama Pat, who urged me to write it all down, and my late father, Papa Bill, who taught me to live life with an open heart.
And of course, for, Weldon, Brendan and Colin, who have grown into great men.
Foreword
“The need for change bulldozed a road down the center of my mind.” — Maya Angelou, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
In the past three decades I have published more than a million words. As a journalist and author producing articles, essays, chapters and books, I remain most proud personally and professionally of the words in this book.
The initial publication in 1999 changed my life. The courage it took to leave my marriage to a man who by all accounts seemed perfect to everyone else, is dwarfed by the courage it took to place my truth into the world on a large stage.
At an extraordinarily demanding time beginning in 1995, as a newly single working mother of three sons, ages 6, 4 and 1, I began to write. Over three years, I wrote in stolen moments before and after teaching graduate and undergraduate journalism classes at Northwestern University’s Medill School. I wrote before and after filing stories as a contributing freelance weekly columnist for the Chicago Tribune and other monthly magazines. I wrote at 3 a.m. as my sons slept. I wrote while the boys napped or after I dropped them off at pre-school. I wrote feverishly and with determination because I had to tell my story. I could not continue as a journalist telling other people’s stories ignoring the biggest truth in my own life.
My understanding of myself and my role in my marriage – and eventually peace—arrived with the process of honestly taking control of the past by putting it into my own words. I could see that living it made no sense. But writing about the chaos and the years of deception made it all quite clear. My mission was to transform the inexplicable violence I endured into a story that for me was no longer shameful. My intent was also to make other women like me not feel so alone. If I could help one other woman feeling the same desparation and despair it was enough.
I believe wholeheartedly that I succeeded.
When I re-read the words I wrote in this book, I cannot imagine writing them today. Every chapter, every episode feels as if this all happened to someone else. I am not the same person who witnessed this life. But when I reread each chapter, I am transported back to that time and feel briefly engulfed in the backlash of those emotions. I viscerally recall the crippling energy drain of trying to contain my secret and making everything appear normal in a life that was not.
The process of publishing this book at first more than a decade ago was not easy. And my life was not instantly transformed as a result.
My goal was to precisely and purposefully articulate what it felt like to have been a victim of domestic violence. I knew that in order to justly explain it to others, I needed to explain it to myself and attempt to understand just how this could happen to me—a happy, educated, confident woman from a family with no history of violence. I was not a stereotype. Because there is no stereotype. Domestic violence can happen to anyone.
I began by writing an essay called “I Closed My Eyes,” and entered it into the Writer’s Digest National Writing Competition in 1996. Competing against thousands of entries, I won first place in the memoir category. I entered another essay that ended up being another chapter in the book and won first place in the National League of American Pen Women’s writing contest. In 1997 I entered the book in the National Writers Association nonfiction book contest and was a finalist. I knew my book was worthy of being published. I had to stop entering contests to feel validated, I needed to have it published as a book for a wider audience. I needed to be brave and to stand up to my truth.
I found a compassionate and diligent agent—Wendy Keller—and she sold it quickly. I worked closely with editors to make this book the best it could possibly be. Three attorneys – two from the publisher, Hazelden Publishing, and one who helped pro bono— worked with me over every line to make sure each claim could be backed up with a document or corroboration from another source. I did not use my former husband’s name—and our last names are different.
Informed by a magazine writer doing a story about my book just prior to its release, my former husband tried to stop the publication with a motion to bar me from “speaking or writing disparaging comments” about him. It was dismissed immediately; prior restraint it is called.
Still, in telling this story publicly, I dealt with my own shame and ambivalence. I felt reticent about revealing my secret, and at the same time I carried an explosive urgency to tell the truth. The ambitious author wanted this well-crafted story out in the world. The abused wife with the handsome husband was scared the neighbors would talk.
I have since grown into the notion that I am comfortable and proud to walk the talk, to be accountable for what I have written. But it was not easy. Sometimes it was humiliating. A radio host once introduced me saying, “We have on the show an author who was regularly beaten to a bloody pulp by her husband. Welcome to the show, Michele.”
I was speechless.
In the past several years I have worked to use my voice to dispel the myths of domestic violence—that it only happens to “other women”—that it doesn’t happen to women like me. I have been a guest on dozens of television shows from “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” to “Later Today,” and more than 100 other radio and cable shows across the United States and Canada.
Before I appeared on “Later Today” in 2000, the producer was prepping me in the green room. I had been chatty in several meetings on the phone and in person and now I was frozen. Every question she asked me, I answered in a single word. We were minutes away from a live interview. It was near the end of the show, almost 10 a.m.
“What’s the matter, why are you acting like this?” she asked.
“It just occurred to me that old boyfriends might watch this and think I turned out to be a loser.”
She smiled. “If your old boyfriends are sitting home right now watching TV, without a job, they have bigger problems than you. Besides, you wrote a great book.”
She was right. I was fine.
After I appeared in June 2002 on “Oprah” as a guest speaking about my first two books, “I Closed My Eyes” and “Writing
