Bruce and Karen McAndless-Davis are ministers in the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Karen is co-author of 'When Love Hurts.' Bruce is pastor of St. Aidan's Presbyterian Church in New Westminster, B.C. They both continue to work with women and men on issues of abuse (see article on Monarch Place below).

This article, remarkable for it's candor and humility, was first published over ten years ago in The Presbyterian Record. Today both Karen and Bruce are continuing in ministry to men and women who deal with issues of abuse.

Karen: We sat in the Emergency waiting room. I sat gingerly on the edge of my seat, nervous and in more pain than I had ever experienced before. Bruce sat fidgeting with his hands. As we waited for a doctor to examine me, the reality of my situation began to sink in. I was about to lie to a doctor. I am an honest person, but here I was about to tell a doctor that I had broken my rib while skiing. That was not the truth. Bruce had broken my rib in a hateful fit of rage. I was seeking medical attention for injuries that my husband had inflicted on me.

How could this have happened? How could a husband who I thought of as loving and kind do such a hurtful thing to me? What was going on? The shocking realization that Bruce was abusive took as long as it did because of our assumptions about abusive men and abused women. We break all the stereotypes: we are middle-class, highly educated professionals, and we come from good homes. Further, we are both long-time church members and pastors.

I didn't see myself as an abused woman.

The only images I had came from television. I thought of abused women as weak and uneducated. And Bruce certainly did not fit my image of an abusive husband. I thought they were wild and out of control - men who drank too much and were nasty and hateful.

Bruce's behaviour was confusing. I saw him being kind and pleasant to our friends and family. He was often loving to me, and I loved him. But he got angry so easily; and, when he was angry, he was hurtful. Since his hurtful behaviour was always directed at me, it made me believe I was the cause of the abuse.

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Bruce's unpredictable behaviour made me feel like I was crazy. In subtle ways he tried to control my actions and my thoughts. He always had to prove that he was right and that I was wrong; we couldn't simply disagree. His rage would silence me.

I constantly had to decide whether an issue or concern was worth raising with him - if it was safe to bring it up. When Bruce did any housework, he became angry and resentful. He was always picking fights and it was hard to avoid explosive situations. I was exhausted living with him.I knew there was something wrong but I didn't know what and I didn't know where to turn for help. As time went on, Bruce seemed to be angry more and more. Finally, when Bruce broke my rib I began to see the seriousness of our situation. I wondered if this was abuse.

Bruce: The idea that I was one of those men who beat their wives was unthinkable. I believed in equality and respect, not domination and violence. But, clearly, my behaviour betrayed my beliefs. My actions were intended to control Karen and I did this any way I could. Putting her down, embarrassing her in front of others and arguing relentlessly were ways I made Karen feel inferior. When I couldn't control her with my tongue, I would do so with a threatening gesture, by driving recklessly to scare her, or by blocking her exit from the room. As is typical with abusive men, my behaviour escalated to pushing, slapping and, finally, punching. At the time I didn't see what I was doing as abusive; I just thought I had a problem with my temper. I didn't think about how it was affecting Karen. I didn't think about anybody but myself.

It scared me when I realized that I had actually broken Karen's rib. My so-called temper was getting out of hand. I was ashamed at what I had done, but more because it went against what I believed about myself rather than because of its effect on Karen. I was still concerned only about myself. I desperately wanted to keep my behaviour a secret, now more than ever. Karen was living on pain killers and I had moved into a different bedroom. Neither of us were talking about it. It seemed our marriage was over.

Karen: Keeping my pain a secret to protect Bruce became suffocating. I needed to tell someone. We decided to tell two of our closest friends, one of whom was a counsellor. At last, we had broken the silence. Bruce needed to be held accountable for his behaviour and I needed support from people who would be concerned for my safety and well being. Our friend referred us to a counselling agency where Bruce entered a group for abusive men and I entered a support group for women.

(Part 2 to follow)

July 2/2009