As I mentioned previously, the day I learned what my dad had been doing to my mother changed my world. Before that day, I had lived in fear of him! On that day, I detested him! After that day, I began to think that maybe, just maybe he truly had changed. After all, I had prayed for years for him to give his life to God. If he had, then I should give him a chance, right?

I was willing to believe that he had asked Jesus to forgive his sins, but I was not ready to accept Mom staying with him. So the day they told me she had decided to forgo the divorce and remain with him, I moved out. My sister and her husband graciously took me in, and that is where I lived for about four months. During that time, my sister’s pastor tried counseling our family and basically told me I needed to return home and give my dad a chance. I lived at home for my senior year of high school and tried to believe the best of my dad. He put on a good show for all of us. I honestly thought he had changed. I would find out years later that it was all an act. After I left for college, my mother tried again to leave my dad because he had renewed his disgraceful and dishonorable behavior towards her.

As for me, I was taking steps towards personal independence. I was still anorexic because that gave me control and autonomy over my body. I moved ten hours away from home to attend college, and once there proceeded to prove my independence by making my own decisions and disregarding Dad’s wishes. The day they left me at college, he gave me enough cash and travelers’ checks to take care of my needs for the first semester instructing me to NOT get a job. Within the first month, I had secured a nursing assistant position at a nursing home and called home requesting my brother bring me my car when he came for a campus visit the following month. You see, my dad had refused to let me bring my car to college with me.

My battle for independence didn’t always go my way. My car in high school was an old Mustang, which I had painted the summer before college. My dad refused to send it to me. Instead, he sent an old Ford Elite, stating that it was more reliable. It was a gas hog in which I looked ridiculous driving. When I asked to exchange cars, I was informed that he had sold my Mustang. To say I was angry would be an understatement!

By this time, I was dating my future husband, Scott, who is very mechanical and agreed to do the upkeep on the car for me. We both agreed that the vehicle was not desirable because it was a torn-up gas-hog. Every time we spoke on the phone, my dad continued to tell me what a great car he had sent me and that I should be thankful.

In the spring of my freshman year, Scott and I decided to go visit his family in Minnesota for spring break. We were concerned about how much it would cost us in gas, so we began looking for a different car for me. When I traded the Elite for a Datsun B210, my dad was livid! I had the final say in the car I would drive, and he did not like that one bit. 

Now, as I look back, I remember that my older brother gained some of his independence through an automobile trade our dad was furious about. It’s not like the cars our father provided were excellent and expensive. They weren’t! I believe it had more to do with the fact that he was mechanical, and we questioned his automobile choices. Our dad did not like being questioned at all. He did not want any of us to be independent of his influence.

As my relationship with Scott deepened, he began to express concern about my dietary habits. About that time, I was enrolled in a nutrition class, and as part of one assignment, I was to record my daily food intake as well as my activities to calculate my caloric balance. That was an eye-opener for me. Through the experience, I saw that my caloric intake was so far below what my body needed that my body was in a famine state. It was the first time that I was struck with the realization that I was harming my body, God’s temple.

I wish I could say that freeing myself from the hold anorexia had on my life was easy, but it wasn’t. It took years. Thankfully, Scott was understanding and wise in the process, and in the years to come, I would find that he became God’s best blessing in my life.