FROM ANONYMOUS IN SALT LAKE COUNTY

Dear Utah,

I’m your fun neighbor. I’m on PTA and other boards with you. My kids play at your home and on teams with your kids. I attend church weekly with you. My husband is very prominent in his career and we have a well-known name. We have a large home, vacation all over, and are highly respected. However, for the past 25 years, our marriage has been filled with abusive episodes both physical and emotional. I have the financial means to leave, but the regular threats of violence against me if I do leave have trauma bonded me to my husband. I have severe PTSD episodes that are mentally painful for me to process. I do my best to control how he acts in front of our 3 children but it is very difficult. Only a few people know our secret and they try to help me through the difficult times of abuse but even they can only do so much. I know that if I try to leave, it will send shock waves through our local community. Labeling him as an abuser will affect our children financially as it could mean employment changes. He has threatened to harm himself if I leave. He has threatened to harm me if I leave. I worry that if I do try to get a protective order, he will sway the judge in convincing them that I am the problem, as he is extremely well-versed in manipulating others for his own gain. Anyway, I just think it is important for people in the SLC Mormon community to know that this is a REAL problem and I wish there was a solution that did not have the very real possible outcome of violence. Being abused for so many years has caused me to develop autoimmune diseases, learn ways to excuse his outbursts, and kept me in a permanent state of walking on eggshells. I no longer believe in marriage, I have difficulty trusting people, and my expectations for compassion and kindness are critically low. I wish there was an exit plan for me to get out of this relationship without risking my very life, but I’m afraid it will come to that eventually. I am grateful I can share my story if only to help another woman feel less alone. I see you. I hear the ache in your voice. I understand the fear you live with. I wish I could make it go away for all of us.