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When I stepped off the airplane in Boston’s Logon airport, Enrique greeted me with a bouquet of flowers. I thought it was quite satirical that once our marriage was over my husband had decided to buy me flowers.

With the exception of our most recent anniversary, Enrique had never purchased me anything to show his appreciation for me. The one time he should have bought me flowers, when I had just given birth to his son, none were forthcoming.

Rather than being appreciative of what one would have thought was a generous gesture, I was quite bemused. In my opinion, the time for flowers had long since passed.

Another thing I noticed about Enrique was the fact that he had discarded his white Y-front underwear in favour of the European style bikini underwear. I have to say that I did not like Enrique’s new taste in underwear, as it appeared quite effeminate to me. I much preferred men to dress and behave like real men, and in my opinion real men did not wear bikini underwear, just like they didn’t beat their wives.

When Aaron woke up the next morning he was so pleased to see me that he crawled on my lap and went back to sleep for another two hours. When he woke up again, however, the bond had been broken. I can only suppose that he was afraid I would leave him again, and it is for that reason he rejected me from that point forward.

Aaron had been through a lot too. He had to witness my marital discord and his father brutally beating his mother, which deeply affected him. I did not know a name for it at the time, but Aaron was suffering from an attachment disorder, which was brought about by the fact that I had to leave him because of the break-up of my marriage and my military duties.

I loved Aaron so much that I did not want to inflict any harm on him. In the years to follow, I could have very easily engaged in a nasty custody dispute, but who exactly would have benefited from such actions? It certainly would not have done Aaron any good. For the sake of Aaron’s well being, I left him where he was because I truly did not want to traumatise him any more than he had already been. It is such a shame, really, that his father did not take the same view and would be prepared to behave reasonably for the sake of his son.

I made the ultimate sacrifice so my son would have a chance at a better life than I had. Enrique, however, sacrificed nothing. His whole attitude was take, take, take; from me, from his parents, from the government, or from anybody else who he could garner sympathy from. I had no idea at the time what a nasty leach my husband really was. He even kept Aaron because he knew he would get government benefit and would not be expected to work as a single parent. Enrique had no intention of going out and getting a job, which was why it was in his best interest to keep Aaron with him for as long as possible.

One thing that upset me was the fact that Aaron had forgotten every single work I had taught him. I had always taken the time to talk to Aaron, teach him words, and make him laugh. Enrique, on the other hand did not do a damn thing with Aaron to assist him in his development. Enrique only saw Aaron as a meal ticket because he knew that as long as he had custody of Aaron he would be able to milk me out of as much money as possible, and he would not be expected to go out and get a job. It is for that reason that Enrique pretty much left Aaron to his own devices while he watched television, read books, or did pretty much anything else that he wanted to do while he was supposed to be caring for his son.

I noticed that whenever I gave Aaron a bath, he would push his hands away from me whenever I tried to clean his private parts. He had never pushed me away from him before, and I was very concerned about his behaviour.

I had noticed that it was a habit of the men of that family to grab hold of the little boys’ penises. The boys for the most part would try to get away from the men when they engaged themselves in such play. I personally did not think it was a very nice game for the men to play with the little boys in the family, but not being a member of that family, I thought it was a cultural difference and therefore said nothing about what was going on. Nobody else seemed to mind when the men would laugh and joke and grab hold of the penis of any young boy who was unlucky enough to be within arm’s reach at the time.

In retrospect, whether what the men did was play or not, I do not feel that it was appropriate behaviour to be engaging in with a child. I will never know, however, if the men of that family decided to “play” with my child in the same way that they played with other children. If they did, I think that their behaviour is tantamount to child abuse.

It is ironic, really, that I permitted my son to stay with his father and his paternal family because I felt they could give Aaron a much better life than I could give him. Looking back I now realise that Enrique had too many problems with himself to ever give Aaron a good upbringing. If Enrique was not interested in providing for his wife then he would be equally uninterested in providing for his son.

When I was alone with Enrique’s cousin, she confided to me something that was obviously a family secret. Ana, Enrique’s aunt, told her daughter that she did not think our marriage would ever work out. Basically, she felt that Enrique was not the marrying kind and that he was a very hard person to live with. If she only knew the full extent of the demons that lurked within Enrique’s psyche to make him an inappropriate husband and father.

Because the hard to keep family secret was that Enrique was not suitable for marriage, I have great difficulty in understanding how his family could conspire with him to deprive Aaron of a mother. If Enrique’s entire family knows that Enrique has too many personality problems to make any kind of a reasonable decision regarding women and marriage in general, then I simply do not understand their actions. Aaron’s happiness and emotional welfare are what should be of importance to those people, not getting even with me for any real or imagined transgression that I may have committed.

One morning I asked Enrique if he would get a job in Germany. I asked him to take a job in Germany because I wanted to be close to Aaron, but I did not reveal my true intentions to my husband.

“What are you trying to say?”, Enrique asked me.

I could not answer that question. Enrique thought I wanted a reconciliation, but that was not what I wanted at all. All I wanted was to be near my son.

I have heard so many stories of women who left their children with their abusive husbands, only to return because they could not bear to be parted from their children. If Enrique had not been so violent towards me I may very well have reconciled too. I was afraid, however, that if I did get back together with him, one day he actually would succeed in killing me.

To be honest, even twenty years after having lost my son to that man, after having exhausted every avenue to have contact with him, I very well would have put my life in jeopardy by reconciling with my violent, abusive husband. The problem lies in the fact that with the exception of extremely short, limited periods of time, I have never been without a male companion in my life, thereby complicating any reconciliations I may have attempted. One evening, in tears, I told my boyfriend of over four years that I wanted my son back so badly I was even thinking of going back to my husband. Needless to say, he was not very pleased, but made no comment. He had enough decency not to stand in the way of any such decision, should I decide to make it.

Lest any readers believe that I am just being melodramatic just to garner sympathy, the Daily Express published the following article on 23rd December 2002:-

‘Women trying to end relationships are among those at most risk of being victims of domestic murder, police research revealed yesterday.

‘The study by the Metropolitan Police also showed that in 30% of cases, pregnancy could be a trigger for violence from abusive partners.

‘Senior officers hope the research – which also found stalkers are more likely to be violent if they have had a relationship with their target – will help them intervene quicker in volatile situations to save lives.

‘The Met’s Understanding and Responding to Hate Crime team examined all domestic murders and assaults in London over the past two years. They found around one in four murders in the capital are domestic.

‘Notions of “If I can’t have her, then no-one can” are recurring features, said the report.

‘The work also found many incidents happen as a result of disputes over child custody.’

After almost twenty years of being parted from Aaron, I was so desperate to have any contact at all with him that I actually contemplated telling Enrique that I was dying. If I had thought it would have achieved the desired result, such as seeing Aaron, I would have done so. The sad part of this tale is that within a matter of weeks of me dreaming up the idea that I would pretend to be dying in an attempt to get close to my son, I found out that my own father had been diagnosed with a very aggressive form of inoperable lung cancer. My own father was dying, and the knowledge of it, saddened me greatly.

One evening Enrique and I went to a disco with his two sisters. Enrique’s sisters were hoping we would resolve our differences and kept telling me what a good couple Enrique and I made. I did not feel like a good couple: I felt horrible.

That evening Enrique crawled into the bed in the corner of the room I had been sleeping in, his huge penis fully erect. It was quite clear to me exactly what he wanted, but just to make doubly sure I knew what his intentions were, my estranged husband told me he wanted to make love to me. I personally think he had to be a really sick and twisted individual to expect me to willingly be his lover after he had broken my nose and dislocated my jaw, but I suppose it takes all kinds to make a world.

I was absolutely amazed. I never considered what Enrique and I did to be making love. I always considered it to be just sex, and so did Enrique. It was only when we were on the verge of divorce that Enrique suggested we make love. I was totally repulsed at the thought of doing anything physical with Enrique, and that especially included making love.

I told Enrique that I did not want to make love, and that was one of the few times I had asserted myself in our marriage.

Enrique was never pleased when I said no, and he was especially displeased on that particular evening. He responded by becoming verbally abusive towards me, calling me names, and telling me that I was a “cheap little piece of trash walking down the street”.

If I was such a cheap little piece of trash, I don’t understand why Enrique wanted to make love to me in the first place. I would have thought he would have been happy to see the back of me, me being so cheap and all. That, my friend, was not the case. It was Enrique who approached me in a sexual manner, not the other way around, yet it appears that it was I who was the “cheap little piece of trash walking down the street”.

The following morning the disagreement escalated. I was at my wits end and was sick and tired of Enrique being really horrible to me. An argument ensured and for the first time after years of abuse, I gave as good as I got. In my rage I took a glass of water and threw the water all over Enrique.

I think Enrique was totally shocked. He was not accustomed to me fighting back. He had hurt me and hurt me and hurt me, and I had always took whatever abuse he dished out, and for the first time I was simply not going to take it anymore.

Enrique responded by phoning his “counsellor” and making an appointment for the both of us to go see her. This woman was paid by CHAMPUS, a scheme that allowed Enrique to get free medical treatment off base, all courtesy of the United States Air Force. Enrique was not the victim that he tried to portray himself as. He was a very shrewd individual who knew every penny that he was entitled to, and made sure that he got it.

In retrospect I believe the woman who was “counselling” Enrique was clearly a very misguided individual who told Enrique exactly what he wanted to hear so the money would keep rolling in on a weekly basis.

The first thing the woman did was tell me that I was anorexic, even though I was actually a few pounds overweight. Enrique weighed in at about 120 pounds soaking wet, so if anybody was anorexic it was clearly him. Yet somehow, the “counsellor” failed to notice that it was Enrique who was underweight and not me, although anybody who took a good look could see it. Enrique had projected his own eating disorder onto me and his “counsellor” acted as his accomplice.

The next thing that was brought up was the fact that I had an affair. I did not consider it to be an affair, but more like a three-night stand. The “affair” was something I preferred to forget.

Even though Enrique made a song and dance about me being unfaithful to him, not one word was said about the way that he had treated me. As far as Enrique and his “counsellor” were concerned, I was the guilty party in the demise of our marriage.

I doubt very seriously that Enrique related to his “counsellor” he had been physically and verbally abusive towards me. I am equally sure he failed to mention to his “counsellor” that he had broken my nose, blackened my eye and dislocated my jaw. Enrique told the “counsellor” exactly what he wanted her to believe and she in turn told him exactly what he wanted to hear.

Because counsellors often must rely on inaccurate information and only pander to the whims of their clients, I feel they quite often to more harm than good. It was certainly true in my case. Instead of Enrique’s so called “counsellor” focusing on my infidelity, she should have probed into why Enrique felt the need to quit his job, abuse his wife, and fail to provide for his family. If she had done that, however, Enrique would have run a mile. Enrique’s “counsellor” wanted his money too much to bring a few home truths to him. That woman knew very well if she had done her job properly she would not have any business, which is why she merely told her clients exactly what they wanted to hear.

The very next thing that we discussed was the fact that I was Aaron’s mother and I wanted him with me. The “counsellor” then informed me that a court of law would not award me custody of Aaron because I could not provide a stable home for him.

I left the meeting a defeated person. All I wanted was what was best for my son and that “counsellor” told me his being with me was not good for him.

Enrique was quite pleased with himself because his “counsellor” had played right into his hands by telling him exactly what he wanted to hear and telling me exactly what he wanted her to say.

After my two weeks in Lawrence, Massachusetts were complete, I had to leave to go to Germany. I had to say goodbye to my son, a person who I loved very much.

The love I felt for Aaron could not compare with the love I felt for any other person. Having to leave him was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do.

Saying goodbye to Aaron destroyed my soul.