Reba D
Facing Forward
A Life Reclaimed
Published by Mondial at Smashwords.
One woman’s powerful journey from independence — into a marriage paralyzed by the grip of domestic violence — and back again to a life of hope and wholeness.
This book is dedicated
to my family and friends who stood by me through some of
the
darkest days of all our lives, and lived
to see the light emerge.
Thank you. I love you.
(Reba D)
Copyright
Published by Mondial at Smashwords.
Mondial
New
York
Reba
D:
Facing
Forward
A Life Reclaimed
Copyright © Mondial and Reba
D, 2011
All rights reserved.
Cover design: Cohesive Graphics
ISBN (This Electronic Edition): 9781595692139
ISBN (Paperback Edition): 9781595691767
www.mondialbooks.com
www.FacingForward-ALifeReclaimed.com
Contents
Chapter One: A Door Once Closed
Chapter Two: Meeting Philip Online
Chapter Three: First Impressions Seldom Lie
Chapter Four: The Element of Surprise
Chapter Five: Loss Leaves Such a Hollow Feeling
Chapter Six: A Perfect Day, If There is Such a Thing
Chapter Seven: Every Oak Starts as an Acorn
Chapter Eight: Promises Broken
Chapter Nine: Wisdom of the Inner Voice
Chapter Eleven: Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back
Chapter Twelve: And Baby Makes Three
Chapter Thirteen: Calm Before the Storm
Chapter Fourteen: Witnessing Philip’s Truest Colors
Chapter Fifteen: Gearing Up for Coming Changes
Chapter Sixteen: No Going Back
Chapter Seventeen: In God’s Hands
Chapter Eighteen: Faith in a Better Tomorrow
Chapter Nineteen: Cold Realization
Chapter Twenty: A Long Goodbye
Chapter Twenty-one: Facing Forward
Chapter Twenty-two: Understanding Why
Chapter Twenty-three: Sweet Freedom Rings
Reba D
Facing Forward
A Life Reclaimed
Domestic violence does not discriminate. It affects the educated and affluent and the uneducated and impoverished alike. It affects the spectrum of cultural and religious groups. Sometimes those with the most to hide are hiding the most.
My story is unique in that my former husband, a Lutheran pastor, evolved from belittling comments to threatening to kill me in less than a year and a half. For many victims the progression from doting companion to threatening and dangerous mate happens so slowly that they begin to question themselves in the process. “Am I crazy?” they often wonder. Is this all a misunderstanding? Is the perpetrator getting more dangerous or is he (or she) having an isolated bad day?
You may be surprised that someone like me could have become a victim of domestic violence. There may even be times in the pages ahead when you want to scream at me to turn around before it’s too late. You wouldn’t be alone. So many of my friends worked to discourage me from making what turned out to be a monumentally disastrous decision to marry a man I clearly didn’t know. To the world, I had it all: a great job, a super hot body, a luxury sports car, a close family and wonderful friends. I was educated and had traveled throughout the U.S. and Europe for work. But I lacked self-esteem. I was so desperate to get married and have children that at one point I actually said to God, “Just send me a man who wants to get married. I will take anyone.” And that attitude set me up for the con artist I married.
What was surprising to me was how quickly I spiraled into a co-dependent role. As you will see, I fought it at first. But the fighting wears a person down and the day eventually came when all I wanted was to get through it without another argument.
It took being free for me to realize that abusive people know what they are doing is wrong, and they compensate. They “compensate” for their bad behavior with outstanding gestures, humor and words. They buy gifts. They win you back. They become challenged by the game of driving you away and winning you back, ultimately damaging their victims from the inside out. I was fortunate to be surrounded by a group of aware, committed family and friends who educated themselves and fought for my safety.
If you are single and wishing you too could meet that special person, please read my story and do not settle like I did. I was so sure that my easy-going personality could make it work with anyone, and that expectation set me up to meet someone who didn’t respect me and who treated me very badly.
If you are in an abusive situation, you deserve better. You have options. You are not alone and you do not need to stay. If you have children, you must leave or you will teach them that it is okay to become abusive or allow someone to abuse them.
If you care about someone in this situation, be firm. You owe it to them to be a mirror – to show them the truth – to let them see the ugly. If you tell them what they want to hear, in an effort to support them or be there for them, you are enabling them to stay. It is very difficult to reflect the truth about such a harsh reality. I ignored the warnings of friends and family because it was easier to keep peace with my husband in the moment. Leaving seemed like such an enormity. But as you will see, my family and friends supported me by standing their ground. Their strength empowered me to leave before I was killed or turned up missing.
Why am I publishing this book anonymously? Certainly many of my friends and family members lived through this dark ordeal with me. And since my leaving, I have been open about how my choices changed my life. While I haven’t advertised my story, I have shared it when appropriate, to help those who are walking in the shoes that only five years ago I also filled.
Today, I’ve completely forgiven my ex-husband and his parents for their actions. My sole purpose is to share my story with the hope that it will help someone who is currently struggling or someone who cares for a victim of domestic violence and wants desperately to understand.
Originally, I wrote this account while going through my divorce. But when I received an email from a stranger on Facebook – crying out for help – I knew at once my story was meant to be more than simply a cathartic exercise in documentation for me.
Facing the truth and making that difficult decision to leave may be the hardest single decision you’ll ever make. And after you leave, things may get worse before they get better. My life did. But slowly, over time, the light will emerge from behind the clouds. Hope is just around the corner!
It was a crazy Monday, April 19, 2010, a day that would launch two weeks of me crying uncontrollably at times. My life was full of transition. The medical director of the emergency department at the hospital where I work had recently left his position, and I missed him very much. My father’s health was up and down daily following surgery for kidney cancer and then a stroke. And by the end of the day, it was official: our CEO was being transferred across the country. This was the man who hired me, mentored me, and who was a boss first but also a friend.
After work, I stopped by the Pilates studio in town to “jump” for 20 minutes, and then home to shower, make dinner, and confide in the only source my job allowed – my pet bird, Gema.
I checked email once more before heading to bed, sorting between those from friends, family and colleagues, and solicitations from strangers. Not unusual, I received a Facebook message from a stranger. It wasn’t a scam.
The message was from a woman. Sienna. As soon as my eyes read the second sentence, my heart dropped. Fear overtook me. Why now? Why today of all days? What did she want from me?
Hi. I’ve been dating
Philip Dazzel for almost a year. We are no longer dating because of
his erratic behavior. I know it’s a little strange but I’m
looking for some explanation as to why the sequence of events and odd
behavior have occurred. I was wondering if you could shed some light
on your experiences and please tell me I’m not crazy.
Thank
you,
Sienna
I sat at my desk motionless. Here I finally had my life back, after five years, and a door I never wanted opened again suddenly cracked. My first response was impulsive, even selfish. Despite her obvious frustration, I could only see this interaction in terms of how it affected me. I wanted to support her but I was suddenly afraid for my safety.
Sienna – You are not crazy. How did you find me?
I didn’t want to get involved, but I also didn’t want to leave her without resources or help. I contacted my ex-husband’s brother, Mel, before going to bed.
By the time I awoke the following morning, Mel had responded. Mel was supportive and offered to help Sienna, just as he had helped me five years ago. Armed with Mel’s offer, I wrote back to Sienna, embedding Mel’s note into my response.
Hi Sienna, your note took
me off guard. I am thankful that I got away from Philip alive. He is
in no way a part of my life. Please never mention my name to him. I
never want anything to do with him again and I don’t trust that he
wouldn’t try to harm or kill me or my family. I live only two hours
away. I shared your FB note with his brother, Mel, who along with my
folks helped me escape. This is what Mel wrote back to me:
Dear Reba:
Tell her she is not crazy
and that she is very fortunate to get away from him. Give her my
email if you want to not be too
specific.
Mel
MelDazzel@free-email.com
Sienna, I’m
sorry that I cannot say more, but you seem like a smart lady to be
asking questions. I ignored red flags. I paid a very high price. rd
That night, Sienna wrote back.
Hi Reba,
I am sooo sorry to hear this. You seem extremely bright, articulate and successful. I will not tell Philip you and I spoke. He is a very scary, crazy person... I’m not sure if he’s bordering on a narcissistic – sociopath personality or what. I’m not a psychologist, so I can’t say for sure but something is definitely odd. He told me you called 911 on him but said it was a joke. With his behavior like it is, I found it probably not to be a joke. He also told me that Mel was out of his life but didn’t go into detail, other than that Mel stood up for you and not his family.
Again, I’m so sorry for the things that happened to you; I believe you over him. I thank you for sharing this with me because it affirms my fears. I will not fall into his traps of mind manipulation anymore. I don’t want to write Mel at this time because Philip is not in my life as of a few days ago. If he becomes a problem, then I would love to inquire more if I have to take legal matters. Horrible that he’s a pastor and able to influence other’s lives.
God’s Blessings to you and your continued success in life! Sienna
P.S. It was very difficult to find you since I didn’t have your last name. I paid for a background search of Philip and found your name buried in the paperwork. Sorry to alarm you. :-)
No functional, sane person calls 911 as a joke. Did she really believe that? Obviously, she had a firm grasp on the reality of life with our shared ex. I was just so thankful she too walked away.
Dear Sienna,
Oh wow! Your experience and your conclusions were so similar to mine. I assure you that the call to 911 was not a joke. Philip was arrested and pleaded guilty to domestic violence. He later got his record cleared – I have NO IDEA HOW! It’s a matter of public record.
God is so good. About a
month ago, someone brought to my attention that Philip listed on
Facebook that he was in a relationship –
and that he was
predicting he would be a “good father.” It sent chills down my
spine. I contemplated contacting “the lady” to warn her. But I
was afraid to risk it. So I prayed that God would protect her and
open her eyes before it was too late. I decided not to get involved.
I never expected that “she” (you) would contact me. I am thankful
to God for protecting you. Never turn away from His voice.
You are correct that today I am very successful. But I lost everything in my relationship with Philip, including my health, my security, my money, my figure, my career, and my self esteem – and it took me 4 YEARS to begin to get it back. I have a very good life today but I paid a very high price for my brief marriage to Philip.
You are absolutely right that he is a great manipulator. He finds out where you are MOST vulnerable and he uses it to attack you. Let’s pray that God will move him far away from Washington – away from you and away from me.
Take care and please for your sake, never go back. rd
A few minutes later, Sienna replied via Facebook. It was chilling to me that Philip was still an active pastor, in the very church that Sienna attended.
Holy Smokes! That is so weird that you were praying for me... God works in awesome ways. Thank you, Reba. I will look up the court case; thank you for trusting me enough to share.
I’m very happy you got your life back and it sounds like you are doing excellent! I’m doing better myself and will only get stronger. I will NEVER go back to Philip, but I had to pretend like I thought he was a nice guy and okay. I told him it was me/my fault and blamed it on my past. This seemed to sort of appease him but I hope it’s enough. I have a feeling he’ll keep trying to have me come back only so he can be abusive some more and try to gain control.
I will definitely pray that God makes it so he will have to leave the state in order for you and me to have peace of mind. I’m also going to pray that God will get him out of the ministry. This is such a horrible thing. Again, thank you for trusting me enough to share and if you ever want to write me I’m available at sienna@free-email.com.
Have a great night, Reba, and don’t worry... God is good!
Blessings,
Sienna
Sienna and I went about our own lives for a couple of days. As the weekend grew closer, I was pretty sure that Philip would say or do something grandiose to win back her affection. I wanted to encourage her to stay strong on Saturday and Sunday when she didn’t have work to distract her.
Hi Sienna,
Hope you are hanging in there. I want to encourage you to remain strong. Imagine giving up everything you have including your self-worth. No man (or person) should ever take that away from you. You were smart to say whatever you had to in order to get away. Imagine if you actually started to believe the horrid names Philip called you or “suggested” about you. Imagine going tens of thousands of dollars into debt. Imagine losing your health. Imagine the exhaustion FOREVER.
When I left Philip, all I wanted was for him to get help. Like you, I searched out one of his former girlfriends (from seminary). She painted a picture much like mine only she was smarter than me – she never married him. Now you have a similar story, and you too were smarter than I was at the time.
There is a pattern here that has stretched from 1998 until now. Clearly, he has had opportunities to change and get help. There may come a time when you want to believe things can be different. God knows I went through that many times. I would encourage you to look at this substantial history. I would encourage you to put your sister or your best friend in your shoes and ask how you would respond if he had dated someone you loved and did/said the things to them that he has done/said to you.
I met Philip when I was 32. I desperately wanted to have children and he said all the right things at first. I don’t want to go into detail with you, but I do want you to know that I am continuing to pray for you. I would encourage you to change your passwords and take precautions to protect yourself. Weekends can be really hard after a breakup. Please be careful.
In faith for your
well-being,
Reba
A week passed before I heard from Sienna a final time.
Hi Reba,
Thank you for sharing your concern for me. I know there are always two sides to everyone’s story but I’m trying to take it all in.
You are correct, I do feel like God is working in our lives and I’m trying to give Philip a chance. I’m sorry I got you involved. It probably was a weak moment for me and I didn’t mean to pry into your past. In hindsight, I should have dealt with it on my own.
I also appreciate your prayers and concern and I am taking it slowly and with much prayer. We’ll see what happens and how things progress. I believe we are going to get some counseling as well and I’m hoping this will help both of us with our mutual baggage! It’s hard to be our age and not have scars in life. :-)
Have a great weekend and
again, thank you for your concern.
Sienna
It pained me to read her note. It reminded me of something I would have written five years earlier. When you love someone, you want to believe that they love you enough to change. You want to believe that somehow things can be different. And as sad and disappointed as I was to read Sienna’s note, I couldn’t judge her. I was her at one point.
I never responded.
What I decided to do instead was to tell my story of how I broke the cycle of abuse. I hope that through my story others will find the strength to see their situations for what they really are and somehow muster enough strength to plant a seed of hope for a better tomorrow.
Meeting Philip Online
In early winter 2002, I met Philip online at a site that claimed to match couples from the inside out. They required applicants to take a personality assessment that is supposedly designed to determine the true compatibility of couples, despite outward appearances. I didn’t really want to join an online dating site, but when a colleague at work heard about it on the radio, I thought, “What do I have to lose?”
Philip lived in Florida at the time, and he seemed unlike anyone else I had ever met. He was so exciting and driven. His writing was atrocious, which as a writer and editor normally would have bothered me; but his exciting stories and life experiences more than compensated for his lack of written communication skills. The things he had achieved were outstanding. He claimed to have traveled the world – to more than 60 countries. He claimed he played international rugby for Canada, had a masters degree, was a fifth-generation pastor, worked in construction, worked for an airline, spoke four languages [he would later say five] and was co-producing a film with Disney in Orlando. He had trouble uploading his picture, which initially concerned me, but with a match this perfect, I wasn’t going to judge his appearance over his character anyway.
When my sister was down in Los Angeles to go to the Rose Bowl with me on January 1, 2003, I showed her Philip’s profile. She was extremely skeptical about him. She had questions that I later passed on to Philip, such as how could he prove he was a pastor, and how did he manage to work in all these careers and travel and go to seminary? Following my questions, his communications decreased both in frequency and in terms of continued revelations about his life.
At some point in January or February he asked if he could call me and I gave him my phone number. He called in February and we began talking regularly. He would keep me on the phone late into the night. A part of me was annoyed that he failed to get off the phone when I asked, but another part of me enjoyed the attention and knowing he wanted to talk to me so long and so often. I had never had conversations like that with anyone and it was nice. He was a “cool” pastor. I always thought pastors would be uptight and only want to talk about the Bible. Philip had so many interests. He asked so many questions about me and my dreams and told me about his. I was falling for a man I had never met in person, and for the first time I believed it really was possible to love someone from the inside out. It had been so long since I had been in love – and then one night, he said what I thought I was feeling: “I love you. Call me tomorrow. Bye.”
He told me he loved me. He loved me? Without meeting me? It was odd but exciting. The next day he found two pictures of himself, but sent them with a note stating that they were a little old. He wasn’t sure how old, but he made it clear they weren’t taken recently. He was very handsome and very young. He was tan, blonde and extremely buff – at least from the shoulders up, which was all that showed – and he had piercing blue eyes. One was a family picture of his parents, his two brothers and him, and the other one was a picture of what he referred to as his “rugby days”. I showed his rugby picture to a colleague. Naturally, I was a little upset when she told me she didn’t like his eyes and said he did not look like a nice person.
His eyes were cold in that particular picture. But as I explained to her, athletes have to be tough mentally and physically and sometimes that look of determination used to psych out one’s opponent can be misunderstood for having a cold personality.
Called to Omville, Wisconsin
Philip was in the “call process” for finding a new pastoral position. I don’t remember him giving me a reason at that point for why he was leaving his church in Florida. He told me that he had interviewed with numerous churches around the US and after receiving six or seven calls, he was trying desperately to listen to where the voice of God was calling him.
One night, he called me with great sadness in his voice. There was a church in Pennsylvania that had pressured him very strongly to accept a call there, and yet he felt called to the church in Wisconsin. He said he felt flattered by their disappointment and yet he felt certain that St. Luke’s in Omville was where he belonged.
I told him that if he felt God was calling him to St. Luke’s in Omville that God would call someone else to the Pennsylvania parish. I recommended that he tell them how much he enjoyed getting to know their congregation and that he would pray that God would call the right pastor for them to their church as well. This seemed to satisfy him, and he was very appreciative of my concern over what troubled him. And of course, I felt honored that he would consult me on such an important concern in his life.
UPDATE: Two years later, in May 2005, when talking to a parishioner who was familiar with his call process to St. Luke’s, the person remarked to me, “We should have known something was wrong when he didn’t receive any other calls.” I corrected that person by saying, “He told me he received six or seven other calls, and I specifically remember one in Pennsylvania.” The person was polite and didn’t argue, but firmly restated that their understanding was different from mine.
Missed Connections
Back in March 2003, I worked for a financial software company, and we had a user conference planned in Orlando. I so badly wanted my boss to send me.
Philip lived in Orlando and I wanted to meet the voice I only knew through the phone. I was so excited the moment I learned I got to go. I had never been to Orlando, but sightseeing wasn’t my priority nor was business really; meeting Philip was.
I called him with the good news as soon as I found out; we were both so excited to meet. But the next day he called me and told me that his mom had come down to help him pack and relocate to Wisconsin as St. Luke’s had insisted he move up his start date. This meant he would be leaving Orlando just one day before I arrived for my business trip. I asked about why he needed an entire week to get to Wisconsin, and asked him to stay an extra half day so we could meet. After all, I was arriving on a redeye around seven o’clock the next morning.
He said he would talk to his mom about it. When he called back later that day he said that unfortunately, his mom had promised his Aunt Alice that they would spend a few days with her on their way through Tennessee and her schedule was totally inflexible in terms of the plans she had already made for their visit. He said he was really sorry; and despite my disappointment, his charming approach to life’s ups and downs had me laughing in no time.
Less Magic in the Magic Kingdom
I told him I was taking the redeye so I would have a day to go to Disney World. I had always wanted to go to Disney World. He told me that he preferred Epcot Center to the Magic Kingdom and was certain I would too.
While I loved the Magic Kingdom, and took lots of pictures, it turned out that he was right about my preference for Epcot Center. I was amazed by the fact that he seemed to know me so well that he would already know my preferences, even before we met in person. It was like he could read my mind. And my mind was beginning to romanticize a man who would ultimately change my life. The conference went well and I enjoyed networking with colleagues and clients. The only thing missing was Philip.
As soon as he got to Wisconsin, he called and asked if I would visit him there, since he was unable to take time off from his new position so soon after arriving. I was so excited that I agreed and made plans to visit him the middle of April.
But as chance would have it, I caught a terrible cold and did not feel that I could fly.
No sooner did I tell him that there was no way I could go, than he told me that St. Luke’s was sending Pastor Nick and him to the Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California, just south of Los Angeles the very next week for training on the Purpose Driven Model, a popular devotional series used by many churches in 2003. I was surprised that the church would give him such short notice, but he explained that sending him was sort of a last-minute decision.
Because he was so swamped getting new programs started at St. Luke’s, he really needed my help finding and reserving a hotel near the conference. I agreed to make the arrangements. His mother’s sister lived in Orange County at the time and he asked me to also contact her and make arrangements for them to connect during his visit.
Philip’s First Request
Even before we met, Philip began asking me to handle favors on his behalf.
Despite barely having a voice, at Philip’s request, I phoned his aunt in Long Beach and introduced myself as a friend of Philip’s on her answering machine. She called back and as we got to talking, she sensed that there was more than friendship brewing. She told me what a big teddy bear he was. She also talked about how she was looking forward to seeing him when he came out west for his conference at Saddleback. She asked how we met and I told her that we met online. She seemed quite surprised by that.
When I talked to Philip later that day, he asked me if I told her how we met and I told him I did. He told me that I should not tell people that we met online because there was a stigma about that, especially for pastors.
I told him that was silly. He said he understood that but asked that I would not advertise how we met for the less worldly people, especially in the church. He explained to me that most people in Omville didn’t have the Internet or know much about it. “You could be putting my reputation at risk. It’s not like in a city, Reba,” he explained. I wondered what kind of backward town Omville must be.
He was nice but very firm with me; I liked the way he took charge. It seemed masculine and strong. I wasn’t sure though what I was supposed to tell people about how we met when they asked, so I waited to follow his lead.
UPDATE: In August 2004, Philip made his feelings known about me telling his mom’s sister the truth about how we met, when he accused me of humiliating his parents and the family name when I told his aunt about our meeting online. According to Philip, his aunt ridiculed his mother at their family reunion in International Falls, Minnesota. I wondered why one sister would ridicule another because her son met his wife on the Internet. I later discovered that his aunt didn’t ridicule his mom because we met on the Internet. Mother Dazzel had created a grand fictional story that I was a Hollywood producer who wanted to cast Philip in one of my upcoming films – and according to Mother Dazzel, that’s how we met. Philip and his parents went to great lengths to ensure their lies would not be exposed. So I am sure that his mother truly was humiliated when she finished her story and her sister confronted her with the truth about our meeting online.
First Impressions Seldom Lie
April 2003 – The day I met Philip was one of those days where everything that could go wrong did. Just as I was getting ready to leave for LAX to pick him up – with an hour to go until he landed – a call came in that delayed my leaving. There was no way I would be on time, but I knew I would be close. His plane was 20 minutes early, so by the time I arrived, he was already nervous that I might not show.
I was expecting to meet a hot rugby player. He looked nothing like his pictures. I ran to the bathroom. I honestly thought I was going to be sick. It was weird timing, and I’m sure it was unsettling for him.
I had packed a picnic snack and we went to Venice Beach where I nearly hyperventilated and finally just broke the news to him as gently as I could. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I felt totally betrayed. He was shorter and wider than his pictures indicated. He was balding – and not in a shaved sexy way. He dressed sloppily and he had bad teeth. If he had been honest with me as to what I should expect physically, I would have had an opportunity to love him through it – which is actually what happened over the next six weeks.
I was shocked by the disparity between the Philip in the pictures and the one who showed up. At first I tried to make small talk and ignore the obvious, but at some point I just blurted out, “You look nothing like your pictures. They have to be 20 years old. I mean, at the very least I feel conned,” I said without thinking about how this must have hurt him. I could tell I upset him and I felt bad, but I was mad too. In fact, I felt incredibly angry. We walked around at Venice Beach after we picked at the heart-shaped crackers and various cheeses I had packed. He told me that I wasn’t that cute either.
UPDATE: It took me a long time to forgive myself for the bluntness with which I told Philip how genuinely unattractive he was compared to his pictures. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mean my entire life, and I felt badly about the things I said that day. I should have listened to the voice that clearly felt uncomfortable, but I also should have respected my boundaries with a lot more grace than what I showed.
Love is Blind But Seldom Wears an Actual Blindfold
We went back to my apartment in Sherman Oaks where I had lunch waiting. I wanted the man I knew from the phone, but every time I looked at Philip, all I saw was an ugly liar. So I did something weird: I put on a blindfold. I thought if I could only hear his voice without seeing him, it would remind me of the man on the phone.
Naturally, he was extremely uncomfortable with this, and later told me that he wanted to leave just as I really hoped he’d go away. Mom called while the blindfold was on and because I could not select the correct button on the phone, I asked him to answer it. He did and she was concerned to hear her daughter was wearing a blindfold. There were questions about that later.
After lunch, I was still trying desperately to connect with the inner Philip, who I had spent two months talking to nearly every day by phone. He had told me about the puppets he used at the church, and since he seemed frustrated with me – and I was certainly frustrated with him – I thought he might be more comfortable communicating through my Mickey and Minnie Mouse stuffed dolls. Even that bombed with his statement that Mickey thought Minnie was very mean. I had never been called mean before.
He must have remembered from one of our phone calls that I enjoyed having my hair brushed, so he told me that if I would go get my brush he would brush my hair. I returned with my brush, and within a minute or two of brushing my hair, Philip told me he could do a better job if I was lying down on my bed. I was initially alarmed by his suggestion, but he promised to be a perfect gentleman, and without too much protest, I found myself in my bedroom with him. As he ran the brush further and further past the end of my hair to the base of my back and finally over the hump of my bum, I told him how much I enjoyed the tingling sensation he was producing.
He put down the brush and started massaging my shoulders with his hands. Then he unzipped my dress and unhooked my bra so he could massage my spine without the hooks and zippers getting in the way, he said. Philip’s hands were soft and strong as he wrapped them around the curves of my waist. He moved them with intention along my sides between my armpits and waist. I could feel his fingers brush back and forth between my bra and my body along the edges of my breasts. Although it felt wrong on some level, it also felt really good.
We didn’t have sex but we messed around more than I would normally be comfortable doing with someone I just met. He reassured me that it was like we had been dating for two months, and that we had spent more time on the phone together than most people who are dating in the same town actually see each other.
That night, I agreed to drive him down to his hotel, and we ended up spending the evening together. He paid for a room at the Anaheim Sheraton. We had dinner at the Rainforest Café and he bought me little gifts throughout the evening at Downtown Disney. I enjoyed his companionship, but I still didn’t feel a sense of physical attraction.
UPDATE: I put myself in an extremely dangerous position in more ways than one. I am appalled at the decisions I made that day. While things could have turned out worse, and for a while seemed to turn out just fine, they were never fine.
Back at the Hotel
The restaurant had an hour wait for a table. After dinner I had a terrible stomachache. We walked around and spent some time playing video games while we were waiting for our table, which was good because after he spent all that money, I wouldn’t have wanted to completely spoil his evening with my being sick. After dinner, we went back to the hotel and Philip rubbed my shoulders and my back in an effort to help me relax.
I am not blameless, but the next thing I knew my shirt was off. I rationalized that my bra still covered more skin than my bikini. And then my pants came off. It’s a blur now as to whether he unbuttoned my jeans or I did, but I didn’t protest. Philip was very impressed by my matching sheer blue polka-dot underwear. Not only did he mention it at the time, he referred to them repeatedly in the year to come.
He kissed my neck and held my head firmly in his hands. He stopped kissing me but put his mouth on my skin and breathed heavily, and I felt my body give. My knees collapsed and I fell onto the bed with him on top of me. My hips began to spontaneously rock against him. I knew this was wrong or at the very least premature, but it felt so good. For a time, my stomachache completely went away.
I closed my eyes and the voice of the man next to me, touching me, was the same voice on the phone. He turned the TV on and asked if I wanted to order a porno. That snapped me back to reality as all of a sudden my stomach froze before beginning to knot up.
Total panic ran up my spine and around my throat. “I don’t know,” is what actually came out. Suddenly, everything inside of me wanted to physically run away. What was I doing? Who was this “pastor” I was with and who had I become?
More than one friend had joked about my prudish nature and saving sex for marriage. As I stood there in a dimly lit hotel room with the pastor, suddenly feeling chilled in just my bra and underwear, a part of me wondered if this was why I was still single at 32. All of the men I had once loved were now married to other women – easy, breezy, fun and daring women.
I didn’t know how long my mind had wandered; I didn’t want Philip asking what I was thinking about. I snapped back into the moment at the hotel. “Men like this stuff. If you don’t loosen up a little, you’re never going to get married,” I scolded myself in my own head. Philip wasn’t an ordinary man, he was a pastor. If this was normal for him, no wonder my prior boyfriends had gravitated toward more progressive women. I made a conscious decision at that moment to embrace my sexuality in a way I never had before.
So despite my discomfort with Philip’s suggestion, I reluctantly agreed, and he ordered a porno to the room that played in the background while we kissed. He told me he had never done that before, and thought it was sexy, but not as sexy as the woman he was with – me.
He told me he didn’t snore, but I soon found out he did. I had horrible guilt all night long and couldn’t even sleep in the same room with him. I went into the bathroom and slept under the sink. If we had been at the hotel he needed to be at for his conference, I would have left and drove home. But his hotel was another hour away and there was no way I could leave him then after the blindfold and the Mickey and Minnie drama. Taxi fare would have been horrendous and I doubted he was financially prepared for that.
UPDATE: After we were married, I discovered that Philip had a personal porno collection. What is more troubling to me in hindsight is not that he had been exposed to pornography, but that he pressured me into it in a non-committed relationship and lied about never having done it before. I have since learned that women with values who respect themselves and who want healthy relationships with men who have values need to set standards. When we as women are true to ourselves, men of character honor and value us. When we settle, we get what we settle for. It wasn’t only Philip who was dishonest that night. I was dishonest as well. I was dishonest with myself about my level of insecurity and desire to be married at all cost. The plans I set in motion that warm April evening would dramatically alter the course of my life, and I did not value myself enough to acknowledge that, let alone to stop it before it was too late.
Searching for Breakfast and Searching Some More
“Where did you go last night?” Philip asked me in the morning? I didn’t know what to tell him and I don’t remember what I did. I didn’t know how to address anything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I didn’t know who this man was or who I was when I was with him. And I didn’t honestly think I ever wanted to see him again.
We checked out of the hotel and didn’t end up eating until after we got to Lake Forest, at least an hour away in traffic. I took him to his hotel near his conference, which was pre-paid by my credit card since I found it through an online hotel wholesaler and I had to pay for it when the reservation was made. He said he planned to pay me back when the church reimbursed him.
I took him to eat sushi, my favorite food, for lunch. I paid because I didn’t want to feel like I owed him anything. I was starving and I longed for something familiar – anything that would help me reconnect with the stable and disciplined Reba with sound judgment. I was so happy when the rolls of raw fish arrived. Finally there was something in my life that was normal.
Over lunch I told Philip that I had given him an incorrect picture of who I was. I explained that while multiple factors contributed to my choices over the past twenty-four hours, the woman he saw was not the real Reba and not the Reba that he would ever be seeing again. I told him that I just wasn’t interested in pursuing what we had started, but I wished him well and hoped he enjoyed the week in California.
A gentleman would have respected my wishes, but Philip was no gentleman. He said it was unfair of me to do this when he had come all the way out to California to see me. He said that at the very least, I owed it to him to entertain him for the week. That is when the real Reba returned. “I don’t owe you anything,” I told him. “I will take you to your conference, and you can take a taxi or hop a ride with your colleague back to your hotel. But I do not owe you anything and it is unnerving to me for you to assume I do,” I continued. I dropped him off at his conference, truly believing I’d never see him again.
UPDATE: Philip gave three different people three different explanations for why he was in California that week. The church believed he wanted to be there to learn more about the Purpose Driven Model. He told me he had come specifically to see me, and only used the church as a means to get there. And he told his Aunt Alice that he was going to California to get funding for the movie he was hoping to get made. He never mentioned the church or me to her, even when she asked how he could get time away so soon after starting a new position. I suspect the real reason was some sort of combination of what he told Aunt Alice and what he told me.
An Attack of Conscience
By Tuesday night I had a tremendous attack of conscience. Here was a man with whom I had connected extremely well via phone. Certainly as a Lutheran minister he shared my faith. He was generous; after I had been so insulting, he bought me a candle, a head massager and dinner. He was a nice guy, who unfortunately chose to lie about what he looked like. A lot of people get older and gain weight and still want to see themselves as they looked a decade ago. Did this make him such a bad person?
I had begged God to send me a kind, considerate, Christian man, and it seemed like He did. Just because Philip didn’t come in a package I preferred – just because I wasn’t physically attracted to him didn’t mean I had to be so cruel. And it didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends. Certainly, after the way I led him on and then dashed his hopes, I would understand completely if he never wanted to see me again.
I called his hotel to apologize and he wasn’t there, so I left a message. He called me and I ended up in tears on the phone. Not only was he forgiving, it was then that he told me that he actually thought I was very beautiful when we met. I was so thankful to God for having a second chance to get to know this man.
He asked if I still wanted to come down Wednesday for dinner at his aunt’s place and I reminded him that I had dinner with clients. I told him that I might be able to drive down after dinner, depending on what time I was finished. I hung up assuming I had met a great guy who was willing just to be my friend despite his own feelings of interest, and I was going to prove to him that I would also be a quality friend.
A Message From God
An elevator mishap pushed dinner back, so it was quite late by the time I got back to my car and called him. I didn’t want to drive down so late, but he absolutely insisted. He told me, “If you don’t come tonight, you might as well not come the rest of the week.” I remember thinking how dramatic that sounded, but felt that he was entitled to some drama after what I had put him through in the days before.
I arrived at his room and after hugging me hello he gave me a dozen long-stemmed roses that he said he had walked five miles to find. “This is why I wanted you to come down tonight – so they would still be pretty when you arrived,” he told me. Once again, I was the schmuck who wanted to stay home and sleep in my own bed and drive down in the morning when it was convenient for me – while he was thinking about the flowers he bought to put a smile on my face.
He insisted I take the bed in the bedroom and he would stay on the pull-out bed in the living room.
During the night, he crossed through my bedroom to use the only bathroom. Instead of returning to the living room, he crawled into bed with me. “What are you doing?” I asked him.
“I just thought you might like to snuggle, as friends,” he said. I thanked him but declined his invitation. When I went to nudge him out of bed, I discovered he didn’t have any clothes on, which triggered me to scream at him. If I hadn’t been so dog tired, I would have packed my things and drove home immediately.
The next morning, I got up and showered, and while I was in the shower, he stole all of my clothes, and every spare towel and washcloth out of the bathroom as a joke. I did not find the same humor in it as he did. He would not bring them to me and told me that if I wanted to get them I had to leave the bathroom completely nude and get them where they were sitting on the bed. I was furious. I demanded he give me back my clothes. He demanded I come and get them. Reluctantly, he brought me my clothes.
I got dressed and went out to talk to him in the living room where everything was put away. He told me that taking my clothes was just a joke, and I told him that it wasn’t funny. I then noticed that he had the sofa bed put away nicely and he told me he never got it out. I asked where he slept and he told me he was up all night praying to God, and that God gave him a very special message about me. Naturally, I was curious.
He said he would reveal it in due time. “Enough with the games!” I told him. But he insisted that God gave him the message and God would let him know when it was time to reveal it. I noticed he was not getting ready for his conference, and he told me that he was not going and that he had decided to stay in the room with me and work on an upcoming sermon. I told him that was fine but that I needed to work and he needed to leave me alone. My cold was getting worse again. My throat hurt and I was coughing every few minutes by that time. He told me I was too serious and no fun as he picked up his jacket and walked out the door.
He was gone quite a while, long enough for me to get my work done. A few hours later he returned with cough drops with honey in the center – my favorite – and a gift bag that he said was for me, but that I couldn’t open until I got back home.
An Afternoon of Genuine Fun
Since I had my projects up-to-date, I decided to take the afternoon off. It was one of the only times in my life I did something like that when it was not prearranged. I am not a spontaneous person by nature, nor am I one to blow off work early. But I made an exception that day. After we shared a hot pretzel at the mall near the hotel, we went to Sea World for the afternoon.
I have a passion for photography, and few things excite me as much as getting a really great shot. Having lived in Orlando, Philip knew the Sea World killer whale routines very well. With his direction telling me exactly what would come next in the show and where the whales would spring up from the pool, I was able to get postcard perfect shots. We made a great team!
Since he didn’t have any money left, I told him that I wanted to take him to dinner. On the way, we stopped in San Clemente to watch the sun go down from the beach. It was chilly and he told me I could sit in his arms to stay warm. I told him that I didn’t want to give him the wrong message and he promised it was just as friends.
He asked if I knew any praise songs and within seconds it was just us and the sand bugs on the beach, watching the sunset, singing gospel songs. For a brief moment I thought, “I could spend my life with this man.” And then I was like, “Reba, hello! Don’t you dare say a word to him because you cannot put him on an emotional roller coaster like this.” Instead, I enjoyed the moment and thanked God for bringing this kind man into my life.
I was certain of two things at that point: one, I wanted to continue to talk to Philip, and two, he needed serious help with boundaries. Prior to his visit, he had often kept me on the phone for hours, even when I repeatedly told him I had to go. If I was going to continue to talk to him, we needed matching egg timers, so that we could set them for an agreed upon time when one of us called the other. We stopped at an electronics store on the way to dinner and I bought them as gifts to each of us. He wasn’t charmed by the idea of an egg timer, in fact, he hated it, but he agreed to take it home.
In the car, on the way back to his hotel, he revealed his message from God. From the time I have been small, both my parents have battled serious illnesses, including cancer for both and acute, chronic pain. I must have confided my concerns about losing my parents to Philip previously on the phone, but I am not certain of that now. His message from God was that he was supposed to be here for me as a support system when my parents passed away. I asked him if God told him that was going to be soon, and he told me only that God told him he was supposed to be here for me at that time.
Of course I started crying and he wanted me to stop crying so I could focus on my driving. My heart was racing and I could feel my neck growing increasingly hot and tight. It brought up years of guilt I felt about living two states away from my family – and not being there when both mom and dad had previously been diagnosed with serious illnesses. When we got back to his hotel, we went upstairs where he gave me the roses to take home, along with the mystery gift. He gave me a hug goodbye and I thanked him for caring enough about me to agree to remain just friends. He seemed like a gentleman that night. I drove home with the mystery bag on the seat beside me. I was going to do as he asked and wait until I got home to open it.
The Element of Surprise
April 2003 — Driving home from dinner, I glanced over at the package several times. Philip had built up my curiosity over this mystery gift with his request that I wait to open it at home. So of course I opened it as soon as I rolled into my carport, with my car motor still running. It was a porcelain Hummel figurine of a little boy and a yellow bird. Philip had a Quaker parrot named Orlando. I thought it was a nice but odd gift. It wasn’t something I would have bought myself.
With the figurine was a 1940s-era black-and-white card with a picture of twelve line dancers, with outfits in the shape of round clocks and hats shaped like bells. The pre-written message said, “Thanks big time!” It was very unique.
Inside he wrote:
Reba, you are a great friend!! Thanks for taking the time to care for me!! The wait was worth it. You helped me in so many ways. My prayers are always with you! This is Reba’s time. May God bless you physically, mentally and spiritually. Sweetie pie. PS. This is something so you remember both me and Orlando. You might need a blindfold.
Your friend in Christ,
Philip
Philip later told me that when he purchased the figurine, he never expected to see me again, but he wanted me to remember him and his little bird, which I had heard stories about but had never met. To this day, I cannot figure out why he was so willing to do so much for me prior to me doing anything for him, and yet after I began to give him my heart – and my wallet – he seemed to take more and give less.
Philip returned to Omville and called to let me know he arrived home – a thoughtful gesture which I appreciated. He called two or three times over the next few weeks, just enough to keep me interested, but not too much to be overbearing or smothering. He said he hoped I still planned to visit Wisconsin for Memorial Day and I confirmed to him I was considering it.