J's Story

J does hair (or at least that's how she puts it). She also works in childcare at the local Gold's Gym. Between running back and forth between the hair salon and gym, taking care of her two young children (as well as her husband), and keeping the house together, she doesn't have a whole lot of free time left. Living in the basement of her parents house with her husband, 10-year-old son, 5-year-old daughter, and black lab, J continuously attempts to balance the various aspects of her life. Like fragile, china plates piled one on top of another on a serving tray, she moves gracefully and carefully through each day gently weaving around obstacles and somehow managing to keep everything from crashing to the floor. However, this wasn't always the case. It was during a personal, hair styling session that J told me a little bit of her story:

When J and her husband first met, they were young and free without a care in the world (as most young couples are). Living a life of partying, staying out late with friends and colleagues, and renting their own small apartment, J felt that she had found "the one."
"From the moment I layed my eyes on him," she said. "I knew he would be the man that I would spend the rest of my life with."
Their courtship, however, did not lead to a qick marriage (as most would have guested). Instead, J and her man decided to "wait" and make sure that such a long term commitment was what they both really wanted. Moreover, neither one of them (nor their families) had the funds to put on a large wedding. Thus, J was still unmarried when she was blindsided by the news that she was pregnant.
"It wasn't that we had or hadn't planned it," she commented. "It's just that we hadn't really given it much thought. It just happened. Now that I look back on it, though, it seems like it was the right time."
So, a few years into their relationship, J and her boyfriend had their first baby. For a while, things were moving along smoothly (as smooth as it can be with a newborn baby at home). J would stay at home with the baby during the day, and work in the evenings at the gym. She also continued to "do hair," but that was cut back mainly to weekends; and so, life went on.

The trouble began soon after their child's first birthday.
"I came home one night," remembers J. "And he was passed out on the couch with beer cans spread all across the table. The first thing I thought was: Where is the baby? The second thing I thought was: What the f*ck is he doing on the couch! I was pissed." (As any competent mother would.) After going into her son's room and checking to make sure that he was OK and asleep, J marched back into the living room with a glass of water. Standing over the snoring heap of her boyfriend, she poured the cold liquid directly onto his face. The only movement he made was to open his eyes and say: "Hey honey, you home already?"
"I was livid, to say the least," said J. "I mean, I thought that he drank it little, but nothing like this. I knew that he went out to the bars with his friends from time to time, but I never expected it to be this bad. Usually he said that he was working late and came home after I had already gone to bed."
J soon realized that the father of her young boy wasn't just drinking "a little", he was drinking a lot. Already having gone out with some of his buddies that night, he came home to down another 6-pack of beer before passing out on the couch.
"Something could have happened to our son!" She yelled at him. "Are you crazy?"
The problem wasn't that he was crazy. The problem was that he was an alcoholic. This J learned over the course of the next three years.

"It was on and off for a few years," she said. "He would say that he was going to stop, but it would only last a few weeks, or a month tops. I thought about leaving him many times. I almost did one, but then I realized I had nowhere to go. I needed him as much as he needed me; and what I realized is that we were in this thing together. I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. Although we weren't married, I felt like I was the only person who he could trust during such a difficult time. I knew that if I left him, he would never get better. I tell ya, though, it was hard. We went back and forth all the time. One day he would be sober, and we would be at peace and in love; then the next, he would come home drunk and reaking of beer, and I would feel a hatred for him that ached to my very soul. It was a crazy time for everyone. Another thing: I was pregnant again."

When their son was almost two, J found that she was pregnant yet again. Although it seemed to some like bad timing, she felt that it may be just the thing to knock her beer-loving boyfriend into shape. Although he promised to stay sober once the new baby was born, J soon found herself home alone with two young children and a man whom she could not rely on.
"There were nights when I would wake up to feed the baby, and my son would come into our room to tell me that 'Daddy was alseep on the couch again.' It was devastating. I knew that being only 2, he wouldn't understand what it all meant, but I also knew that he could feel that something wasn't right."
Night after night, J struggled with the possibility that she may have to leave her children's father. It was beginning to seem like there was no hope, and she was practically exhausted herself. Finally, soon after her daughter's first birthday, J sat her boyfriend down during a rare period when he had been sober for a few weeks.
"I can't do this anymore," she told him. "I can't do this for myself and I can't do this for our children. Either something has to change or I am leaving . . . and I will take them with me."
The look on his face when she uttered those last few words was shocking. It was like nothing she had ever seen before.
"I was almost as if something clicked inside of him," she exclaimed. "And I think that for the first time, he knew that I would do it. He could tell that I was at the end of the line, exhausted, and defeated by the disease. You see, alcoholism IS a disease. It affects and attacks the whole family, not just the person drinking."
Yet, she saw something different in her boyfriend's eyes. Something stronger and more definite.
"No, I won't let that happen," he said. "I promise you that from this day on I will not touch a drop of alcohol. I swear to you that I will stay sober, or you and the kids can leave. The first sign of beer on my breath or in the house, and I will pack my things. J, please believe me."
J wasn't sure what to do. She had heard similar pleadings before, but this time it seemed different. There was a determination that she had not seem or heard before. So, she decided to give him one last shot. What's the difference, she though. I leave now, or I leave later.

As I sit on a wooden crate in her parent's basement, J points to her calendar to show me the 15th of November circled in bright blue. "7 months," is written in large print across the square. While slowly and deliberately cutting my hair, she reflects back on that day almost 7 months ago when she threatened to leave.
"I knew it was going to be different this time. Something about the way he looked and spoke made me believe what he said. Me and the kids mean the world to him; and when he realized that he could lose all of that, he decided to change. Sometimes it takes something drastic like that to draw motivation. We decided the other day that we would get married on his 1-year anniversary. Nothing big, just a little ceremony with our close family members and friends. I figure if we can get through something like this, we can get through anything. Hopefully, this is as bad as it gets.
Don't get me wrong, it hasn't been easy. There are highs and lows. Good days and bad days. Some mornings we argue as soon as we wake up, and I wonder what I am still doing with him. Other times, I look at him and know that I could never love another man more. It seems crazy, but that's how it is." Crazy would be a good word for it, but isn't that the nature of love?

When J finished with my hair, I thanked her profusely. Rarely do I find someone who knows how to cut the out-of-control, frizzy mop that takes over my head. I must say, however, that she did an amazing job. We sat and chatted for a little longer before I left, discussing relationships and love.
"Thank you for the girl-talk. I don't get to do enough of it with all the working and mothering that I do now-a-days. It's nice to get away from that for a little bit. We'll have to do it again sometime. We decided the other day that we would get married on his 1-year anniversary. Nothing big, just a little ceremony with our close family members and friends. I figure if we can get through something like this, we can get through anything. Hopefully, this is as bad as it gets.
I walked out of J's house with a feeling of hopefullness in my heart. Although seemingly sad and troubling, she and her family's struggles remind me that there are different sides of love. Loving someone does not always mean enjoying the good times; it's about getting through the hard times together as well. This is what J's story is about.