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| Wedding day. Photo: K. Lewis |
If marriage is God's design, why does it seem so hard to make it work? And virtually impossible in Hollywood?
I got to thinking about this as a friend announced her engagement; the same day another friend announced her break up.
Sadly, I've seen as many endings to marriages as beginnings. Covering the crime beat, cops will tell you some of their riskiest responses are when one partner is trying to leave the other.
To make ends meet at my first small market TV news gig, I took a part-time job at a women's shelter. Police brought in most victims with only their kids and the clothes on their backs.
I never got used to seeing the swollen faces, black eyes, bruises...I didn't understand how mothers stayed with men who shattered their kids' bones, or worse.
"They feel like they have no choice," the director tried to explain, "Most go back."
Later, I was the one dialing 911 for a friend fleeing an explosive husband. She was terrified he'd come home and find her packing.
I'd been there when they met. Celebrated their engagement. Helped pick the wedding decorations. We saw no warnings; the beatings started after the vows.
"I'm calling the police," I said, "That'll give you time to get out." I'd covered enough crime stories to know this one could turn fatal.
My friend's experience is common; one in four women are in abusive relationships.* The reasons a marriage goes from flowers to fists are as intricate as the lace of a wedding dress. And love's promises - to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish...until death do us part - just as fragile.
I got to thinking about this as a friend announced her engagement; the same day another friend announced her break up.
Sadly, I've seen as many endings to marriages as beginnings. Covering the crime beat, cops will tell you some of their riskiest responses are when one partner is trying to leave the other.
To make ends meet at my first small market TV news gig, I took a part-time job at a women's shelter. Police brought in most victims with only their kids and the clothes on their backs.
I never got used to seeing the swollen faces, black eyes, bruises...I didn't understand how mothers stayed with men who shattered their kids' bones, or worse.
"They feel like they have no choice," the director tried to explain, "Most go back."
Later, I was the one dialing 911 for a friend fleeing an explosive husband. She was terrified he'd come home and find her packing.
I'd been there when they met. Celebrated their engagement. Helped pick the wedding decorations. We saw no warnings; the beatings started after the vows.
"I'm calling the police," I said, "That'll give you time to get out." I'd covered enough crime stories to know this one could turn fatal.
My friend's experience is common; one in four women are in abusive relationships.* The reasons a marriage goes from flowers to fists are as intricate as the lace of a wedding dress. And love's promises - to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish...until death do us part - just as fragile.
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