wives and moms are property?

Ronnie’s ex-husband was grossly possessive, and the last thing she expected after divorce was his attitude to be inherited by their daughters who, like her husband, treated her like property.
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"With their father's encouragement, my daughters became determined to bring his abuse back into my life," says Ronnie. "They felt, like he did, that I had no right and no power to end the marriage - I 'belonged' to their father, I was his 'property' and, indeed, their 'property', too."

"If my kids expected me to stay married to their father and keep a home for them for rest of their lives then they're living in cloud cuckoo land," laughs Ronnie, “and for them to play the 'victim' in this situation is so ridiculous that I wonder what on earth they teach kids in schools and colleges today.”

“I gave my kids a far better start to life than I had, and if in doing that I set them up to expect too much then that’s something I need to put them right about quick smart.”

"Unlike the massive inconvenience my parent's divorce caused me," explains Ronnie, "my divorce did not inconvenience my children at all, most especially my eldest daughter who was already an adult of 18 when I told her father either he leaves or I will, and thankfully he did otherwise there would have been a big change of residence to really inconvenience her."

"If my eldest daughter harbors 'pain' about the divorce and considers herself a 'victim', then it emerged from her continuing relationship with him," claims Ronnie. "It is something she needs to resolve with her father, not me. When he left, a pall of misery lifted from the house and she was as happy as I was."

"My daughters and I enjoyed a great relationship until three months after the divorce when I found a boyfriend and then all hell broke loose," explains Ronnie. "It never bothered them or me that their father was sexually involved with other women. It bothered both of them, however, when I sought a loving relationship."

Read more about Ronnie:

broken home victims?

adult kids rake up the past

family punishment

a dog’s life

Alyssa is married with a two-year old son, Tommy, and life was pretty good until a stray dog mysteriously appeared in her life, turned it upside down and became the first issue between her and her husband.

"The stray dog followed Tommy and I home from the park one day and I tried to shoo it away," explains Alyssa, "but Tommy was so excited by the dog that I allowed it to tag along with us."

"When I got to the front gate I wouldn't let it through," says Alyssa, "and Tommy refused to come inside. He just wanted to stand on the other side of the gate talking to the dog!"

"I told him not to touch the dog -- but you know what two-year old kids are like," laughs Alyssa. "Tommy was putting his hand through the bars of the gate and the dog was licking his fingers and I was scared of what germs he'd pick up."

"The dog had no collar or identification and it must have been a stray that someone had dumped at the park."

"I felt sorry for the dog so I told Tommy I'd let it into the yard through the gate -- and feed it -- if he went into the house."

"With Tommy looking through the kitchen window I gave the dog a bowl of milk with buttered bread -- I had no meat -- and within seconds the stuff was wolfed up!"

"I gave him a second and then a third bowl of bread and milk and that was wolfed up too -- the dog must have been starving."

"I then put a bucket of water for the dog to drink near the front gate, left the gate open and hoped it would take off while Tommy was having a nap."

"Three hours later the dog was still there and Tommy was thrilled to pieces," laughs Alyssa. "At that stage I wondered whether it would be a good idea to keep the dog as a pet for Tommy -- and if it was still there when my husband came home I'd suggest the idea to him."

"My husband did object, vehemently," sighs Alyssa. "He hadn't grown up with a couple of dogs like I had, and since it was still hanging around the house when night fell I cajoled him into letting the dog stay the night. I gave it another feed and made up a bed for it in a laundry basket outside the kitchen."

"It was a warm summer night and the dog couldn't possibly have been cold," says Alyssa, "but all night long it howled and howled and howled and kept us awake -- and the whole street, too, and my husband was mad at me!"

"It didn't look like it had ever been a house dog -- and there was no way I wanted a great big dog like that in my house," says Alyssa. "So next morning we decided that the dog had to go. If a full stomach and a fluffy blanket in a laundry basket outside the kitchen wasn't good enough for the stray dog then it wasn't going to be the type of pet dog for Tommy that I wanted."

"My husband refused to take it to the pound because nobody would believe we weren't the original owners and he didn't want to be seen as a dumper -- and he didn't want the dog to be put down," says Alyssa, "so we agreed to take it back to the park in the hope that its owner may turn up or some other kid may fall in love with it."

"The stray dog jumped into the car like it had been in a car before and jumped out without a push when we got to the park," says Alyssa.

"Thankfully it was a Saturday and lots of kids were playing in the park when we got there," says Alyssa. "My husband threw a ball, the dog ran after it and then we took off."

"I looked back and saw the stray dog with the ball in his mouth running after us, and then we turned the corner and that's the last I ever saw of it."

"Sure it was a rotten thing to do to the dog -- but what was the alternative -- a lethal injection at the pound?"

"We told Tommy that the dog belonged to another little boy and that we'd get him a little dog of his own when he is older," says Alyssa, "and thankfully he didn't kick up a fuss. In fact, he didn't show an interest in any dog after that incident."

"If anyone was traumatized by the stray dog incident it was my husband and myself," laughs Alyssa. "We were the ones who lost a night's sleep -- and argued unnecessarily -- over it!"

perfect marriage ruined by new friend

Loma’s marriage was perfect until her husband, Frank, struck up a business friendship with a legal couple, John and Dimi, who set up business in the office next to his dental surgery.

“Frank is a lovely man, very caring and compassionate but his one fault is that he has always been a soft touch – never bothering to harass patients for payment,” explains Loma, “and that’s why, I think, he got sucked into ditching his old legal advisers for the services of J & D – a couple I instinctively disliked.”

“A year after our son Davy was born I mentioned to Frank that it would be nice if we could set up a special inheritance for him – particularly an investment property I had been looking at, and he thought it was a good idea, too.”

“I agreed with Frank that he should sound out J & D on how we should go about setting up a special inheritance investment property for Davy, and I was surprised when he came home and said that John had advised him that any investment property should be bought by Frank’s dental business, not privately, because of financial lurks and stuff like that.”

“I told Frank that I didn’t like this idea at all and that if a child cannot hold property in his or her own right, under some trust, then it would be better to put the property in my name and that would give me some income and something to do until Davy is old enough to own the property in his own right.”

“Frank agreed that getting his dental business involved in private property purchases was probably not a better idea than mine,” says Loma, “but apparently when he mentioned my idea to John he was cautioned about putting property in my name.”

“Had Frank just left it at that, I would have been none the wiser,” sighs Loma, “but unfortunately he blurted out that John had sat him down and given him some very somber advice about wives who wangle their husbands into putting property in their names and then suing for divorce and ruining their husbands financially.”

“This wounded me so badly that I fear our marriage is doomed.”

Read more by Loma on this issue:

husband’s friend is a louse

business and pleasure don’t mix

a viral marriage

Caitlin's passion for Patrick overcame her revulsion of the cold sores - herpes simplex - he developed every so often on his lips and was able to hide with a beard, but after marriage and pregnancy she discovered that herpes wasn't the only health hazard that she and the new infant were exposed to.

"I was always worried about catching the cold sores from Patrick," says Caitlin, "but by cutting out kissing when the sores were active I was pretty well safeguarded and during our six-month courtship I never contracted the virus myself."

"It's possible that I was already immune to the virus," says Caitlin, "but I wasn't taking any chances - I just didn't want to go through life having to cope with sores on my mouth that I couldn't hide with a beard like Patrick did."

"I am very particular about my health as you can tell," laughs Caitlin, "and I was also a virgin when I met Patrick - so we did things very slowly."

"We did have sex before marriage but it wasn't until I had been married for a few months that I started getting vaginal yeast infections."

"Technically I suppose yeast infections - thrush or monilia - aren't classed as STDs," says Caitlin, "but I certainly didn't have these infections before I started having regular sex so what else are they if they're not sexually transmitted?"

"I was torn between my passion for Patrick and the fact that kissing him and making love with him was a health hazard," sighs Caitlin.

"It's a bit silly when a married couple have to use condoms, but that's how we coped - it was either that or continual courses of medication to clear up the yeast infection."

"When it was time to start a family I expected that everything would sort itself out," says Caitlin, "but that's when my troubles started in earnest."

"Throughout my whole pregnancy I was cursed with the most obnoxious yeast infection you could imagine - huge chunks of cottage cheese type yeast were present in my vagina and the usual medication just didn't work."

"I resisted my doctor's suggestion to try a stronger medication as I didn't want to do anything to harm the baby," explains Caitlin. "I just put up with it. It was so horrible that Patrick didn't want to come near me in case he caught it - even though he caused it to start off with!"

"The doctor warned me that if I didn't clear up the yeast infection before the baby was born there was a risk the child would be born with it, too," says Caitlin, "and I decided to cross that bridge when I came to it."

"Now that Patrick wasn't wanting to have sex with me there was a possibility that the yeast infection would clear up - and it did - but unfortunately our baby son was tested positive for yeast infection and needed medication straight away after birth."

"As luck would have it Patrick got a bad case of cold sores as soon as I gave birth and the doctor warned him not to go near the baby until his sores had cleared up."

"It was bad enough that I had given the baby a yeast infection without Patrick giving him the herpes simplex virus - for which there is no cure - and I naively trusted that Patrick would do the right thing."

"A week after returning from the maternity hospital a tell-tale sore appeared on the baby's lips and I was devastated," says Caitlin. "Patrick denied kissing the baby, but I could tell he was lying. How could he deliberately infect a new born baby with that awful virus?"

"Patrick and I had a lot of arguments after that," says Caitlin. "I realized that marrying him had been a health risk from the start and while I was willing to take responsibility for the risk to myself I was not willing to risk my child's health - especially when Patrick had deliberately infected my new-born baby with an incurable virus."

"I couldn't trust him any more," says Caitlin, "and when trust is broken, love and attraction fly out the window."

"We're still living together for the sake of our child," says Caitlin, "but there's no married life between us and although herpes simplex is not a life sentence like HIV could be, I still feel very upset for the terrible curse that Patrick inflicted on my little baby."

Caitlin's story first appeared as health hazard husband and is reprinted with permission.

sperm donor wanted

When Leanne thinks of Cyndi Lauper's song True Colors she's reminded of her ex husband, Jack, who was as proud as a peacock when she told him she was pregnant - but later discovered that it was his ability to make a baby that he was proud of, not the prospect of raising a child with her.

"When Jack started avoiding me after taking me out to dinner to celebrate my pregnancy I knew I was in trouble, " says Leanne.

"There was no way I was capable of raising a child on my own and if Jack didn't want to participate in the child's future then I needed to get an abortion as quickly as possible."

"I finally managed to get Jack to agree to a discussion," says Leanne, "and I laid my cards clearly in front of him."

"He maintained that the decision to go ahead with the pregnancy or have an abortion was entirely my decision," says Leanne. "He didn't see the life growing inside me as being a responsibility of his - even though it was his sperm that created it."

"Faced with the brutal truth I had very little alternative."

"Jack didn't say so but I suppose he had contemplated a future divorce and a lifetime spent paying maintenance for a child he didn't want."

"I was 36 and this may have been my last chance to become a mother," says Leanne, "but when I looked at Jack that night and saw what a lily-livered coward he was I didn't want a man like that to be the father of my child."

"I made an appointment to have an abortion and the counseling session was really trying for me," sighs Leanne.

"I suppose by then the hormones had kicked in and I was feeling 'clucky' and 'protective' even though my brain was totally against having this child."

"It was the first - and hopefully the last - abortion I will ever have to endure," says Leanne. "It didn't hurt and I was treated very well but I couldn't help but cry like a baby when it was all over."

"The whole male-female situation really stinks," sighs Leanne. "Jack and I hadn't planned on having a child -- it just happened, despite contraception -- and it really sucks that the woman has to pay the consequences of what a man's sperm does."

"Jack had been so proud that at 47 he was firing healthy sperm rather than 'blanks' -- which is how he put it -- and that's all there was to it as far as he was concerned."

"If he had wanted proof of his fertility than he should have got it at a clinic -- not through my misery and the murder of a new human being."

"A bad choice of man?"

"Well, tell me how to pick a good one," sighs Leanne.

"Anyway, someone else might have let me down when it was too late for an abortion," says Leanne. "If Jack has one redeeming point it is that he showed his true colors early enough for me to right a great wrong."

"After the abortion, there was no point continuing with the marriage," says Leanne. "Jack was a flake and a poor excuse for a man. He even chickened out of accompanying me to the abortion clinic. I had to go through it all on my own."

"What's the use of having a husband if he's not there for you?"

"I'm considering going ahead and having a sperm donor baby," confides Leanne. "I know it will be difficult being a single mom, but considering the woeful quality of potential husbands and fathers out there I believe it's the only option open to me?"

"Wish me luck!"

(Leanne's story first appeared as true colors and is reprinted with permission.)

a diplomatic marriage

Before her marriage Sidney, 39, was a graduate researcher for a leading politician with a wonderful diplomatic career ahead of her which she willingly gave up when she met and fell in love with a co-worker.

"In the early days I was quite happy being Bob's wife and the mother of his children," explains Sidney, "and while this sort of existence was quite normal for diplomatic wives in foreign countries it becomes out of place when you're living at home."

"You see, we lived in parts of the world where it was unsafe for western women to go out in public," says Sidney, "and we lived in secluded compounds where all the wives just sat around and talked about their husbands and kids."

"It just didn't occur to me that this sort of idyllic existence was not only destroying my self-esteem but also reinforcing innate male prejudices in Bob," says Sidney. "He spent every day working in the company of foreign men with awful attitudes towards women, and what started off as a protective attitude towards me soon became denigrating."

"I understood that diplomat's wives in certain areas of the world did not accompany their husbands to functions," says Sidney, "but when he stopped sharing political gossip with me, brushing me off with words to the effect that it was man's business, I started to feel pretty worthless."

"I had gained first class honors at university and once had a better job and prospects than he had," sighs Sidney, "and I couldn't believe that he was denying me the intelligent conversation and a share in his interesting life that I believe I deserved."

"To save our marriage, I begged Bob to put in for a transfer home and it happened sooner than I had hoped for," says Sidney, "but the years we had spent in an alien culture had a bigger impact on Bob than I had realized."

"Not only that," adds Sidney, "but the years I had spent as Bob's wife and the mother of his kids had devalued me not only in Bob's eyes but everyone else's, too."

"The crunch came at a diplomatic party thrown by a female colleague we had both previously worked with," says Sidney. "I was in my element, happy to be home back among intelligent, stimulating company and Bob got into a filthy mood when I moved away from his side and worked the room on my own."

"I don't know whether Bob had conspired with the hostess to humiliate me," says Sidney, "but when the guest of honor arrived and she moved from group to group, introducing him to us, she very deliberately and cruelly introduced me as 'Bob's wife' rather than as a former colleague."

"I felt like a nobody," says Sidney, "and that, I suppose, is exactly what she meant me to feel."

"After the party I told Bob what had happened and he couldn't understand why I would feel demeaned by such an introduction," says Sidney. "He took my aggravation as a slap in the face for him."

"He thought that being introduced as his wife was a honor and if I didn't see it as such then I
shouldn't be married to him," sighs Sidney. "He boasted that thousands of women would give their right arms to be married to him, and without him I am nothing."

"Reminding him of the relative value of the jobs we had when we worked together meant nothing to him," says Sidney. "He maintained that I gave up all rights to a separate existence and individual honors when I married him. Can you believe that a boy next door type could say such a thing in the 21st century?"

"Right now we're talking about divorce," sighs Sidney, "but with three children I don't feel happy about the course Bob has set me on."

"Divorce is not what I want."

"I want Bob to treat me like he once did - as an equal, a partner in life," says Sidney. "Am I asking too much of him after he's seen how other cultures treat their wives?"

"I willingly gave up my career when I married Bob," says Sidney. "I did not willingly give up on myself and I am shattered that Bob would end up being changed so much by another culture."

"If this is what happens when you marry someone from work," sighs Sidney, "then I wish someone had told me about this sort of thing years ago."

(Sidney's story first appeared as a diplomatic incident and is reprinted with permission.)

the butt of cruel jokes

Up until her children left home three years ago, June endured eleven post-divorce years of abject misery because of constant interference from an abusive ex who manipulated her through the children, regularly defaulting on access visits and child maintenance and poisoning the children's minds against her and the few men she had dated.

"Becoming an empty nester ended all that misery for me," says June, "but irreparable damage had been done. My life is ruined."

June explains that her miseries started when she was about 40 and first felt affronted by her husband's cruel ageist and sexist jokes. Cruel jokes about older women are popular among most men, but women generally never take much notice of these jokes until they reach an age at which they suddenly realize that the jokes are directed at them.

Her husband thought it was very funny to humiliate her by telling such jokes in company, and he paid for this and his other follies with divorce. However, June, now 56, did not get away easily. She paid for her assertiveness in divorcing her husband fourteen years ago by becoming the butt of the cruelest joke imaginable.

During the prime of her life, from 42 to 53, June lived on the edge and often considered suicide as a way out of her misery. She couldn't see an end to the vendetta her ex was conducting against her. She felt that he would carry on until the men in white or the undertakers carried him, or her, away.

The misery she suffered at the hands of a nasty and vindictive ex totally overshadowed her 40s and early 50s. She looks more like 76 than 56. Her hair is white, her eyes are dull, her complexion is ashen and she has that jittery mannerism that is more common in elderly women than a fifties woman.

It's easy to say that the option is always there for women in June's former situation to pack up, change their name, leave the country or do whatever they have to do in order to get a vindictive ex off their backs, but as June explained this was not an option for her.

"It would have meant sacrificing the children," says June. "My ex had visitation rights and the only way I could have escaped from him was to give him the children. I couldn't do that because he didn't want the children. He was just using them to ruin my life. And he succeeded not only in ruining my life, but the children's, too. They've turned out to be as screwed up as he is."

Women who gain custody of children after a marital split rarely gain respite from the children's father, and this constant harassment not only deprives these women from enjoying a normal relationship with a man but also a normal relationship with their children. June is now resigned to never seeing her children again.

"They are ashamed of me," explains June. "One of them calls me an 'old bag' and other pejorative names that their father called me."

When children are constantly subjected to hearing their father deride their mother, it's a rare child who can see the injustice of the situation and want to put it right.

June says that all her suffering was wasted.

"I might as well have put the kids into care and fled, cutting all ties with them as well as their father," sighs June. "It will silly of me to expect the children to appreciate that I remained their mom. I should have realized that their father would have more sway over them than I would"

If her children are more concerned about what she looks like than what's in her heart, then that's due to their father's indoctrination and there's nothing much she can do about it. And yet, it is not just her ex-husband who poisoned her children's minds against June. The youth culture, and general lack of respect for older women, is to blame, too.

June's ex-husband very clearly succeeded in increasing his power by decreasing hers. What he did to her wasn't illegal, and because it is sanctioned by a male dominated society it wasn't considered to be immoral either.

"To everyone else he was an aggrieved dad," explains June. "I initiated the divorce and split the family. Therefore, I was considered to be the bad person and in punishing me he was seen as giving me what I deserved. Nobody cared that the kids were getting screwed up in the process."

"He was driving me mad, and screwing up the kids," explains June, "but everyone else saw him as a good guy. Nobody cared about the reason why I left him. Nobody cared that he was abusing me. He managed to convince everyone that I had left him and broken his poor little heart for no good reason whatsoever. "

As long as these guys have a mantle of approval from society, they can carry on forever. And bitter and twisted ex-husbands and ex-lovers often do.

When asked why, at the age of 56 and after three years of freedom from the kids, she has not picked herself up and started a new life - one far away from her ex, her children and all the bad memories - June shrugs and says that she just doesn't have any energy left.

"As long as I they leave me alone I feel safe," says June. "The hell is over and I just want to enjoy peace and quiet now."

When women use the word 'safe' it usually indicates that they are otherwise living in fear, and this is exactly how June is living despite the fact that the children - the only 'hold' her ex had over her - are no longer in the equation.

June said that she could not have lived with herself had she given up her children and fled fourteen years ago, and yet by doing what she considered to be the ethical and natural thing for a mother to do she exposed herself to further abuse.

freedom from domestic violence

Chantal, 48, made a proud decision 12 years ago to be poor and free rather than rich and abused, but in divorcing an abusive husband and freeing her children from domestic violence she never imagined that they would end up years later denying her suffering and blaming her for divorcing their father and stuffing up their lives.

"I deserve a medal of bravery for what I did 12 years ago," claims Chantal. "I can't believe, in this day and age, that anyone - least of all my children - would deny my suffering and wish I had remained in an abusive relationship."

"Divorcing that man was the bravest decision I have ever made," says Chantal, "and having made it I empowered myself to make similar decisions about anyone else who dared to abuse me and make me feel bad about myself. I don't care who they are - employer, friend, lover, mother, father, brother, sister, son, daughter - I will not tolerate an unhealthy relationship. I will not be controlled, owned, raped, humiliated, blamed, pushed, shoved or threatened ever again."

"I was very naive when I married and consequently fell pregnant immediately," explains Chantal. "After the birth of my first daughter I went on the pill and stayed on it, despite mounting health risks, for thirteen years without a break and then finally, on strict medical advice, I took a break and fell pregnant again. My ex-husband refused to use male contraception - he couldn't care less about whether I fell pregnant or not - so during this break from the pill I refused him sex."

"He retaliated by forcing himself on me when I was asleep," sighs Chantal. "When I woke up and realized what he was doing he forced me on my stomach and continued raping me until he was done - and then he turned over and slept, leaving me crying."

"I don't know whether he deliberately raped me to make me pregnant - or just to satisfy his lust," says Chantal, "but when I told him I was pregnant he was a lot happier than I was. Imagine this happening thirteen years after the first mishap - after all my precautions!"

"During my second pregnancy the abuse worsened," sighs Chantal, "and after my second daughter was born it became intolerable. He lashed out at all of us."

"I protected those kids with my life, literally, and although they may prefer to remember one or two bad times over the thousands of happy times they spent with me, I did my very best and I'm very proud that I raised two children to healthy adulthood," says Chantal. "It was my duty as a mother to protect my children from harm and provide them with a good, strong female role model."

"I felt deep despair being stuck in a marriage where I had to take his abuse as if I deserved it, and especially so if he dished it out in front of the children."

"I didn't want my children to see their mother being abused," explains Chantal. "If they now feel, as their father encourages them to do, that I lied and made a bad decision twelve years ago that adversely affected them and as such I am responsible for everything that goes wrong in their lives forever and ever then what can I say?"

"It was such a long time ago - and neither of my children knew half of the stuff that I endured and possibly can't even remember the abuse they did witness," says Chantal, "so their father can easily paint an entirely different impression of what happened and impress it upon them."

"I suppose I can chase up the medical records, the police records, the court records and the witness statements - but why the hell should I?" asks Chantal. "If they want to believe that their father is incapable of abuse then let them believe what they want."

"It's history, it's dead and buried, it's stuff that happened between their father and I and essentially has nothing to do with them. The divorce did not affect them adversely - it freed them from domestic violence - and I can't believe that twelve years later they would blame me for something they should be thanking me for."

"It is ludicrous and grossly unfair for them to claim that their problems are a direct consequence of my divorcing their father twelve years ago and as such I must take full responsibility and blame," says Chantal. "The consequences to myself and my children of remaining in a domestic violence situation would have been abominable. Do they truly believe that my staying in an abusive marriage would have been a good decision that would have benefited them?"

"I am in my rights to protect myself, tell them to let go and mind their own business - I am not their property and I refuse to get involved in irrational arguments with them," says Chantal, "but that's all I can do. Even though I can see that their relationship with their father has become dangerous and they need to cut ties with him immediately before he does more damage to them, I've never interfered in their relationship with him - and I never will."

"It's a mantra, I know," sighs Chantal, "but no matter how hurt I feel, and how badly I can see how they are being affected by their father, I must respect their right to make adult decisions involving responsibilities and consequences for which they, and they alone, are liable."

"They must learn to let go of the past - as I have," says Chantal. "If they don't, they are liable to end up in abusive relationships themselves."

"I feel healed enough from the experience to be able to marry again - and I have been looking," says Chantal. "but finding the right guy at my age isn't easy."

release him, let him go!

After ten years of marriage Livvy's husband started playing the old Englebert Humperdink song Please Release Me so often at home that she couldn't stand it any more. She took the hint and told him to leave and take his music collection with him.

"He was always blaming me and the kids for everything that went wrong in his life - he'd never look at himself and his own shortcomings," explains Livvy, "and that awful song was just his way of letting me know that I was just a ball and chain in his life, nothing more."

"I didn't for one minute believe that there was someone else he loved - he certainly wasn't a ladies man," says Livvy, "but it was pretty obvious that he no longer loved me - if he ever did - and he played that song and over and over again just to play the victim role."

"He got the shock of his life when I told him to leave," says Livvy, "but I expected that. He didn't actually want to be released to face life on his own - he just wanted to wallow in self-serving misery about being married to someone he didn't love."

"I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life listening to that plaintiff trashy song every night," says Livvy. "It was mental torture to listen to it."

"No decent person begs their wife or husband to release them, either directly or indirectly via a song," explains Livvy. "Marriage isn't a prison. If you want out, you get out, plain and simple just like that."

"You don't drive your wife or husband crazy with a pathetic song," says Livvy, "and if he didn't have the guts to leave of his own free will then I had no alternative but to give him a push."

"He had a job and a family to go to," laughs Livvy, "so I wasn't throwing him out on the streets with a fine toothcomb, like Bill Bailey."

"If he truly believed that the kids and I were holding him back from achieving all he wanted to do, then this was his chance to prove himself," says Livvy. "Or, in his case, to face up to his own shortcomings and realize that he had been using us as an excuse, blaming us for his failures in life."

"Sure enough," sighs Livvy, "without weeks he was begging me to take him back, and that was the most insulting thing he could have done. He didn't love me. I was just a comfortable old piece of furniture in his life. He was like a long-term inmate who commits another crime when released from prison, just to get back to a comfortable sheltered lifestyle that he can whine about every day."

"I wasn't going to play the role of his ball and chain!"

"When he realized that the marriage was well and truly over and he was on his own - as free as a bird," laughs Livvy, "guess what he did?"

"He went to a dating agency and within days of our divorce he married a woman with more kids than I had!"

"I shouldn't laugh," sighs Livvy, "but I bet you anything that he started playing that Please Release Me song to his new wife on their honeymoon!"

a kept woman

Cissy and Felix were poor, young migrants in a strange new country when they met in the mid-1970s and they married to get ahead and solve accommodation problems more than anything else.

"I had two jobs and a bit of money saved and Felix had nothing when we married," says Cissy. "He was behind in the rent and I moved in with him and paid his expenses until he got a job and started earning money."

"In those days men earned twice as much as women," sighs Cissy. "It didn't seem fair that I had to work two jobs - day and night - to earn as much as he did, but that was why marriage was so attractive to me. It was the only way a woman could get ahead in life."

"More than anything else I wanted a home of my own - not just because it was such a waste of money to pay rent but also because I missed my home in the old country," says Cissy. "As soon as Felix started a steady job, with regular wages, we used my savings as a deposit on a cheap house and I gave up my second job. We were so happy - we were on our way!"

"Felix and I liked each other and we got on reasonably well," explains Cissy, "but there was no romance between us. We weren't in love or anything like that. Our marriage was a business arrangement more than anything else. We were helping each other get ahead in life - it was the sort of thing lots of young people did in those days, and still do if they don't have a rich family to help them."

"Felix decided to start a business of his own about the same time as I got promoted at work," says Cissy, "and for a time I was earning a lot more money than he was, and then the unthinkable happened. I got pregnant!"

"It was a contraceptive failure - neither Felix nor I had planned on having children," explains Cissy, "but when the pregnancy became known neither of us contemplated an abortion. We just accepted it as one of those things and adjusted our lives to the prospect of a new mouth to feed."

"One of the bad consequences of pregnancy in those days was that I had to leave work," explains Cissy. "I was forced into becoming totally financially dependant upon Felix and I felt ashamed to be a burden on him."

"Felix gave me a weekly allowance for housekeeping and personal expenses for myself and our baby daughter," says Cissy, "and I was made to feel even more ashamed if I could not make ends meet."

"Year after year Felix gave me the same amount of money - no matter how much prices had gone up," sighs Cissy, "and I never complained or asked him for more."

"I became very clever at making clothes, mending things and growing our own vegetables," says Cissy, "and while our daughter never went without anything, I had to accept that there was never going to be anything left for me."

"Felix's business was doing well, but he always complained that it wasn't doing well enough," says Cissy. "I understood that he needed to pour a lot of money into the business - and keep up the image of a successful businessman - so at first it didn't really bother me that he needed to buy a new company car every year, and new office equipment and new suits and things."

"After six years as a 'kept woman' - feeling dowdy and depressed - I wanted to go back to work and be able to earn my own income," says Cissy, "but Felix insisted that his business depended upon my being there for him - day and night - for emergencies."

"He never paid me for the odd jobs I'd do for his business," explains Cissy, "he just took it for granted that I'd always be there to help him, and do his washing and cooking and cleaning up after him."

"I had no idea how much he was making," says Cissy. "He kept all financial records at his office, and the only time he mentioned money was to complain about not having enough. He did this, of course, to make me feel obliged to make the paltry allowance he gave me stretch further than ever."

"In six years I had not seen a dentist or a hair-dresser - far too expensive - or bought myself anything," says Cissy, "and when I got a bad toothache one day I decided that it was time to put my foot down and start looking after myself."

"Felix had never stinted himself on any personal expense - he always had sparkling white teeth, sharp new haircuts and fancy clothes to go with the fancy company car," explains Cissy. "I explained that I had no money and needed to see a dentist immediately and he had the cheek to accuse me of being a bad housekeeper for not saving up for such emergencies."

"Reluctantly, he gave me some extra money to see a dentist, but from that day onwards our marriage was dead," says Cissy. "I insisted on going back to work and when I had saved enough money to take care of myself, I asked for a divorce."

"Felix had obviously planned as much for this day as I had," explains Cissy. "He packed some clothes and left the same day - without any sort of scene whatsoever."

"The following week I received a letter from Felix advising me to sell the house - now worth a small fortune - and I became suspicious," says Cissy. "The house was in both of our names, but I had provided the deposit for the house and had worked my fingers to the bone maintaining it throughout the entire marriage. The last thing I wanted was to give up my home."

"I wrote back to Felix saying he gets to keep the business, equipment and car, I get to keep the house," says Cissy "and that's all I wanted. I knew his business was probably worth a lot more than the house, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be a free woman again."

"As usual, Felix moaned about the business not doing too good, and the expense of having to rent an apartment," says Cissy, "and because he knew I had saved up a bit of money from my new job he actually stung me for half of my savings - which at that time was barely $10,000 - in the divorce and property settlement. After paying Felix and my lawyer, I had no money left."

"It never occurred to me - or my lawyer - to investigate Felix's business and property dealings," says Cissy. "I learned years later that Felix actually owned the apartment he moved to and had extensive investment portfolios that I never knew he had. The property settlement between us had been a total fraud on his behalf."

"For the whole marriage - including the period I was working - I had scrimped and saved and done without while Felix maintained the image of lifestyle of a successful businessman," sighs Cissy. "I kept accurate housekeeping records and when I went back to work I was open and honest about what I earned, spent and saved while Felix remained totally secretive about his financial affairs - but always crying poor, of course."

"Poor fool me for being a mousy kept woman!" laughs Cissy. "I should have demanded ten times as much housekeeping money as Felix gave me, and insisted on being privy to his financial affairs."

"We went into this marriage to help each other - to be partners in every sense of the word," says Cissy, "and if it were not for an unplanned pregnancy, and being forced to leave work, he would never have become so mean, cunning and secretive about money."

"That he screwed me out of half of my hard-earned savings at the end of the marriage means that he must have resented having to support me and a child in the early years and never took into account the net worth of the work I was doing for him at home - and for his business," sighs Cissy. "I needed to keep on scrimping and saving when I went back to work because I knew I'd need the money for a divorce - but I didn't expect to end up penniless. If he had been successful in coercing me to sell the house he would probably have screwed me out of half of the sale money, too!"

"What a mean, cunning louse!"

"Frankly, I'm well rid of him," concludes Cissy. "A liar and a fraud like him will get his just desserts one day. It's all very well wanting to get ahead in life, but only a fool does so at the expense of others in co-operative, trusting relationships."

abusive relationships

Clara, 46, had enjoyed five years of freedom, living her life independently, before she married at 21. She thought she was in control of her life and knew everything when she entered the relationship - as young adults do at that age - but she was so naive that she now blushes in shame at how she was manipulated.

"Up until then," explains Clara, "I only knew about physical violence and verbal abuse. I didn't know about manipulation, coercion, control, possessiveness, jealousy, blaming and guilt. I didn't even know about romantic love - I had read about falling in love, but I had never experienced it - I just thought that it would happen after marriage."

"I married the new boy on the block," explains Clara. "My mom thought he was a wonderful - a good, clean hard working boy - and she did everything in her power to bring us together. But she didn't know, and neither did I, what he was really like until it was too late."

"I did witness slight signs of violence and bad temper in him before we married, but it didn't worry me too much," explains Clara. "My dad had been a violent man and mom had divorced him and ended up happy, so if the same thing happened to me I thought I could always get away - but falling pregnant made me a prisoner in a way I never imagined possible."

"Knowing young women who ended up being bashed by their husbands in drunken rages, I guess I could have done worse," says Clara. "He didn't drink, and when he raged he thankfully smashed furniture and windows rather than me."

"The abuse just started off small and built up to a crunch time," explains Clara. "I felt like a frog being boiled in hot water without the will or wherewithal to jump out."

"I felt bad when he put me down because I'd gained so much weight during the second pregnancy," says Clara, "but I felt worse when he discarded me as 'dead meat' when I was later diagnosed with cancer. The cancer treatment caused me to lose a lot of weight fast - which was good - but when I lost my hair I was shocked and humiliated when he compared my worth as a woman with our young and beautiful daughter with long, golden hair. Imagine how horrible that was."

"Anyway," says Clara, "I survived all this - and got back on my feet - and I only snapped and decided to end the marriage when he started coming home during the day, when my daughter was at school, demanding sex, violently raging at me in front of our little boy and scaring the wits out of the poor thing."

"That was the crunch for me," says Clara. "I jumped out of that marriage faster than any frog has ever jumped!"

"He re-married very quickly and started another family - but he didn't learn from the first experience," says Clara. "Maybe he thinks I divorced him because he wasn't abusive enough with me and needs to try harder next time around."

"My kids still see their dad and tell me that he's worse than ever," sighs Clara. "His behavior is still violent, abusive, threatening, manipulative and diabolically possessive towards those he considers 'inferior' to him - dependent women and children."

"I think it's the way the man is - his genetic inheritance - and the way he was raised to be," says Clara "For most of his life society sanctioned that sort of male behavior towards women and children - but in today's world it is considered criminal behavior and someone should have the guts to report him to the police or force him into therapy. Like all cowardly abusers, he is 'sweet' in public, does his hitting in private, denies responsibility and sheets blame on everyone else."

"That his new wife remains married to him indicates that she's made a decision that putting up with his abuse - towards her and her children - is far better than being a poor single mother," says Clara, "but what sort of marital ideal is she showing her children?"

"These days, one in three marriages end in divorce and probably one in three divorces is amicable with both parents being able to maintain a friendly relationship," says Clara, "but divorces caused by domestic violence never, ever, result in friendly post-divorce relationships."

"The dynamics between an abuser and his victim never change," says Clara, "and it wouldn't surprise me if most of the two in three marriages that don't end up in divorce are kept intact by abused women who don't have the self-esteem to leave their abuser. I wasn't married in church, but for a woman who was she has the added burden of her 'till death do us part' wedding vow."

"I have lived long enough to know that there are two major classes of people in the world - the abusers and the abused," sighs Clara. "Unfortunately, like most women, I fall into the latter category and that is why I need to be careful of the people I allow into my life. I wasn't very careful in the past because I didn't know any better - back then, all women got abused by men in one way or another - but I do know better now."

"I've got a nice relationship with a guy now," confides Clara, "but I'd never marry again. Why spoil a good thing?"

"Abuse is abuse and no woman in her right mind tolerates it, excuses it or willingly puts herself in a situation where she is liable to get more of it!"