August 16, 2025 • 9 mins
How My Marriage Failed...TWICE!
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Hi all, lady Rslash. Here today, I'm going to tell
you a tale about how a marriage failed, not once,
but two times. This has happened to some of you
out there, and if you don't want it to happen
to you, maybe you should listen to this. Back in
nineteen ninety nine, I was approaching my late twenties. Everyone
(00:23):
else had children and were married. I was working a
dead end job at a printing company, one of my
many menial jobs I had attained in my early adulthood.
In an effort to offer my ego a sense of
promise and hope, I bought into the ideology the college
was right for me and I'd obtain a decent office job.
(00:45):
Upon completion of my formal education. I felt empty despite
my pursuits. I felt my biological clock was ticking, and
I wanted purpose in my life. I met my future
husband in a chat for singles in Northeast Ohio. I
looked forward to chatting with him daily after work. When
(01:06):
we finally met in person, he seemed agreeable in both
appearance and character. We married on August eleven, two thousand
and one, that's one month before nine eleven. Admittedly, we
both managed to work during the week and drink on
the weekends. For me, drinking was a social engagement, and
(01:26):
I did not always wish to focus my life on
these social activities. While on New Year's Eve two thousand
and two, I pledged to give up drinking amid chuckles
from New Year's Eve revelers, mostly extended family members, I
committed myself to Jesus. From that moment on, I gained
(01:47):
purpose in many previously devoid areas of my life, such
as work. I found it easier to handle my anxiety attacks,
and I even quit smoking after several failed attempts. In
two thousand three, we had our first child, a boy,
and in two thousand and five we welcomed our daughter.
(02:07):
But something was different with my husband and me following
the arrival of my children. I didn't feel connected to
him at this point, and I believed I probably was
never emotionally connected to him. Could that be possible? I
felt alone and isolated from every adult and supposed family
member in our town. It was apparent from the birth
(02:28):
of my children that I'd been on this journey of
parenthood alone. I didn't even mind at first, as long
as I had the mental and emotional stamina to do
the job. I was excited to be given the role
as a mother. My husband's drinking continued. Soon he acquired
a taste for rum and malt liquor. If we didn't
(02:49):
have any money to pay the bills, he still found
a way to scrape up enough money for that forty
ounce of steel reserves. When the money ran out, he'd
called his folks to go to their house and drink.
He'd drink there well into the next afternoon. I began
to grow fond of the times that he abandoned the family,
because then I got some much needed peace and quiet.
(03:10):
There was no yelling, no slamming of doors, no fighting,
no violent tirades in the middle of the night, at
least not until he returned home drunk on Long Island
iced teas. I had met a friend named Eva who
educated me on matters of domestic violence. She encouraged me
to call a woman's shelter that was local every single
(03:33):
time I experienced one of these incidents at home. Each
time I called, I gained a little more information on
the steps I needed to take to formulate my escape plan.
One fateful day, I told my friend about bruises that
I had on my arm. She directed me to file
a report at the police department. I'd be documenting the
(03:54):
domestic violence for future references, But as luck would have it,
the officer arrested my husband after I was photographed and
made the report. I was able to obtain a CPO,
which is a civil protective order pending his arrest. The
court date was scheduled for a month out. I had
one month to get my ducks in a row and
(04:15):
leave this marriage. I encountered too many obstacles the first
time I tried to leave. Even after I stayed two
weeks at the women's shelter, I returned home with our
children to a drunken nightmare. By two thousand and eight,
our dissolution was final and me and the kids relocated
to a different area. I secured an apartment in a
public housing complex in the small town that I ended
(04:39):
up in. Temporary employment agency helped me get my foot
in the door at a local factory. Dylan and Olivia
my kids. They made friends as well, and they did
well in school. In twenty thirteen, I saved up enough
money to purchase a Freddie Mack house for seventy thousand dollars. Hey,
I was moving up. Over the next few months, life
(05:01):
seemed to be moving ahead, was feeling pretty good, and
I felt compelled, compelled to make my failed marriage work.
My ex husband had told me he wasn't drinking and
he vowed to be a good father. We remarried in
June of twenty fourteen. I didn't feel anything but annoyance
(05:22):
at my husband, though I needed to adjust to this change,
but he just took refuge once again in the bottle.
Just two months after we tied the knot for the
second time, he worked the graveyard shift at a company
just ten minutes away, and rarely did he come home
after work. I'd drive by the other side of town
and I'd see his car parked for hours. I called
(05:44):
the bank's automated line to discover he was taking out
several large chunks of money when he was out and gone.
When he returned, he'd stand outside my locked door and
hurl these verbal abuses at me. He was never the
type of man to discipline his children with any degree
of sensibility. Only harsh words, no lessons to be learned,
(06:07):
no encouragement or love shown towards them. He started to
call them names and create divisions with the kids. I
worked hard to be unrivaled. Police tried to intervene on
several occasions, but each time they left after receiving promise
from my husband that he'd take a brisk walk and
become sober and behave better while he'd simply just walk
(06:29):
down to his friends get another bottle or case of beer.
That's what he was really doing. In May of twenty fifteen,
I reached out to the domestic violence shelter in my county.
I applied for a small grant to help offset my
legal fees in my divorce. Within a few months, they
approved my request and I obtained a lawyer to prepare
my case. This divorce was not much different from the
(06:53):
first one. The children's child support was awarded and it
was about the same. I didn't ask for spousals this time,
aside from some temporary spousal support just to get me through.
I retained my home. I was granted this Chevy Cavalier
that we'd financed together. I was saddled with this car
payment after he wrecked a car that I owned free
(07:16):
and clear. Additionally, I was required to make the ninety
dollars full coverage auto insurance payment in him while he
moved into his parents' house once again. In February of
twenty sixteen, he elected to serve six months in jail
instead of a five year probation for yet another duy.
He didn't want to be trouble to drive to Wayne
(07:37):
County each week for the probation, so he decided just
to do his time. He's been released of his sentence.
His parents will be there to pick him up, feed him,
support him, and provide not only a home, but a
refuge in the cocoon of their house. A middle aged
man remains an adolescent. He remains unwilling to sacrifice his
(08:01):
own desires to become an adult. I scribbled down a
plan to stop using my credit card to buy groceries
just a few months ago. The credit card was merely
an emergency utility spent six months since he's paid any
child support. I've applied for a home mortgage modification. Maybe
once I hatch out my plans, I can let go
(08:22):
of this man child. Perhaps I will pray about this matter. Okay,
this is a personal story, and unfortunately it's not all
that uncommon. Usually, when one of the mates is self destructive.
The other partner will really want to give them another chance,
(08:44):
because why wouldn't you. Nothing changed for you, they've changed,
and so in all that we believe we want to
try it one more time. But in this case it
didn't work out, as it doesn't in so many of
these kinds of cases. Are you in a situation like
this or do you know someone? It can be frustrating
to know someone in a situation, just as it can
(09:05):
be to be in it yourself, except that you get
to go home to your own safety at the end
of the day. If you know someone that's going through this,
be as support for them and know if it's you,
you are not alone. This is Lady our Slash. Keep listening.
We always have more stories to share
Hi all, lady Rslash. Here today, I'm going to tell
you a tale about how a marriage failed, not once,
but two times. This has happened to some of you
out there, and if you don't want it to happen
to you, maybe you should listen to this. Back in
nineteen ninety nine, I was approaching my late twenties. Everyone
(00:23):
else had children and were married. I was working a
dead end job at a printing company, one of my
many menial jobs I had attained in my early adulthood.
In an effort to offer my ego a sense of
promise and hope, I bought into the ideology the college
was right for me and I'd obtain a decent office job.
(00:45):
Upon completion of my formal education. I felt empty despite
my pursuits. I felt my biological clock was ticking, and
I wanted purpose in my life. I met my future
husband in a chat for singles in Northeast Ohio. I
looked forward to chatting with him daily after work. When
(01:06):
we finally met in person, he seemed agreeable in both
appearance and character. We married on August eleven, two thousand
and one, that's one month before nine eleven. Admittedly, we
both managed to work during the week and drink on
the weekends. For me, drinking was a social engagement, and
(01:26):
I did not always wish to focus my life on
these social activities. While on New Year's Eve two thousand
and two, I pledged to give up drinking amid chuckles
from New Year's Eve revelers, mostly extended family members, I
committed myself to Jesus. From that moment on, I gained
(01:47):
purpose in many previously devoid areas of my life, such
as work. I found it easier to handle my anxiety attacks,
and I even quit smoking after several failed attempts. In
two thousand three, we had our first child, a boy,
and in two thousand and five we welcomed our daughter.
(02:07):
But something was different with my husband and me following
the arrival of my children. I didn't feel connected to
him at this point, and I believed I probably was
never emotionally connected to him. Could that be possible? I
felt alone and isolated from every adult and supposed family
member in our town. It was apparent from the birth
(02:28):
of my children that I'd been on this journey of
parenthood alone. I didn't even mind at first, as long
as I had the mental and emotional stamina to do
the job. I was excited to be given the role
as a mother. My husband's drinking continued. Soon he acquired
a taste for rum and malt liquor. If we didn't
(02:49):
have any money to pay the bills, he still found
a way to scrape up enough money for that forty
ounce of steel reserves. When the money ran out, he'd
called his folks to go to their house and drink.
He'd drink there well into the next afternoon. I began
to grow fond of the times that he abandoned the family,
because then I got some much needed peace and quiet.
(03:10):
There was no yelling, no slamming of doors, no fighting,
no violent tirades in the middle of the night, at
least not until he returned home drunk on Long Island
iced teas. I had met a friend named Eva who
educated me on matters of domestic violence. She encouraged me
to call a woman's shelter that was local every single
(03:33):
time I experienced one of these incidents at home. Each
time I called, I gained a little more information on
the steps I needed to take to formulate my escape plan.
One fateful day, I told my friend about bruises that
I had on my arm. She directed me to file
a report at the police department. I'd be documenting the
(03:54):
domestic violence for future references, But as luck would have it,
the officer arrested my husband after I was photographed and
made the report. I was able to obtain a CPO,
which is a civil protective order pending his arrest. The
court date was scheduled for a month out. I had
one month to get my ducks in a row and
(04:15):
leave this marriage. I encountered too many obstacles the first
time I tried to leave. Even after I stayed two
weeks at the women's shelter, I returned home with our
children to a drunken nightmare. By two thousand and eight,
our dissolution was final and me and the kids relocated
to a different area. I secured an apartment in a
public housing complex in the small town that I ended
(04:39):
up in. Temporary employment agency helped me get my foot
in the door at a local factory. Dylan and Olivia
my kids. They made friends as well, and they did
well in school. In twenty thirteen, I saved up enough
money to purchase a Freddie Mack house for seventy thousand dollars. Hey,
I was moving up. Over the next few months, life
(05:01):
seemed to be moving ahead, was feeling pretty good, and
I felt compelled, compelled to make my failed marriage work.
My ex husband had told me he wasn't drinking and
he vowed to be a good father. We remarried in
June of twenty fourteen. I didn't feel anything but annoyance
(05:22):
at my husband, though I needed to adjust to this change,
but he just took refuge once again in the bottle.
Just two months after we tied the knot for the
second time, he worked the graveyard shift at a company
just ten minutes away, and rarely did he come home
after work. I'd drive by the other side of town
and I'd see his car parked for hours. I called
(05:44):
the bank's automated line to discover he was taking out
several large chunks of money when he was out and gone.
When he returned, he'd stand outside my locked door and
hurl these verbal abuses at me. He was never the
type of man to discipline his children with any degree
of sensibility. Only harsh words, no lessons to be learned,
(06:07):
no encouragement or love shown towards them. He started to
call them names and create divisions with the kids. I
worked hard to be unrivaled. Police tried to intervene on
several occasions, but each time they left after receiving promise
from my husband that he'd take a brisk walk and
become sober and behave better while he'd simply just walk
(06:29):
down to his friends get another bottle or case of beer.
That's what he was really doing. In May of twenty fifteen,
I reached out to the domestic violence shelter in my county.
I applied for a small grant to help offset my
legal fees in my divorce. Within a few months, they
approved my request and I obtained a lawyer to prepare
my case. This divorce was not much different from the
(06:53):
first one. The children's child support was awarded and it
was about the same. I didn't ask for spousals this time,
aside from some temporary spousal support just to get me through.
I retained my home. I was granted this Chevy Cavalier
that we'd financed together. I was saddled with this car
payment after he wrecked a car that I owned free
(07:16):
and clear. Additionally, I was required to make the ninety
dollars full coverage auto insurance payment in him while he
moved into his parents' house once again. In February of
twenty sixteen, he elected to serve six months in jail
instead of a five year probation for yet another duy.
He didn't want to be trouble to drive to Wayne
(07:37):
County each week for the probation, so he decided just
to do his time. He's been released of his sentence.
His parents will be there to pick him up, feed him,
support him, and provide not only a home, but a
refuge in the cocoon of their house. A middle aged
man remains an adolescent. He remains unwilling to sacrifice his
(08:01):
own desires to become an adult. I scribbled down a
plan to stop using my credit card to buy groceries
just a few months ago. The credit card was merely
an emergency utility spent six months since he's paid any
child support. I've applied for a home mortgage modification. Maybe
once I hatch out my plans, I can let go
(08:22):
of this man child. Perhaps I will pray about this matter. Okay,
this is a personal story, and unfortunately it's not all
that uncommon. Usually, when one of the mates is self destructive.
The other partner will really want to give them another chance,
(08:44):
because why wouldn't you. Nothing changed for you, they've changed,
and so in all that we believe we want to
try it one more time. But in this case it
didn't work out, as it doesn't in so many of
these kinds of cases. Are you in a situation like
this or do you know someone? It can be frustrating
to know someone in a situation, just as it can
(09:05):
be to be in it yourself, except that you get
to go home to your own safety at the end
of the day. If you know someone that's going through this,
be as support for them and know if it's you,
you are not alone. This is Lady our Slash. Keep listening.
We always have more stories to share
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