Love Isn't Supposed to Hurt Read online

  “My dear friend Christi Paul truly shows the world what’s possible! She bravely shares her journey of making big mistakes, taking responsibility, and creating the life she always dreamed of. If you ever wanted to believe it’s possible to move past someone else’s limited vision for your life, then this book is for you!”

  —Daryn Kagan

  (DarynKagan.com), national radio host of The Daryn Kagan Show and syndicated newspaper columnist

  “I’m a big believer in living with an open heart. It’s the only way to live authentically, but it can be frightening, too. Christi’s bravery in telling her story isn’t lost on me, but what touched me most was her battle with herself to hold on to hope when she didn’t see any and to recognize the healing power of forgiveness. Her stellar writing and brutal honesty bring you into her pain and invite you to come with her on a journey that proves, whatever your faith, we all have in us what we need to conquer our fears.”

  —Jane Seymour

  Emmy- and Golden Globe–winning actress, author, artist, and designer

  “It takes a lot of courage to overcome the pain and anguish of emotional abuse—and even more to write about it. Thank you, Christi, for sharing your own personal heartbreak and triumph. It’s empowering. I have no doubt it will encourage people to find their strength. Every woman should read this book!”

  —Cheryl Burke

  ABC’s Dancing with the Stars and author of Dancing Lessons: How I Found Passion and Potential on the Dance Floor and in Life

  “Life can be full of hardship and place seemingly insurmountable obstacles in our paths, and it certainly does not go according to ‘our plan.’ This one thing, however, is true: God has a plan, even when we don’t. Christi’s book is a wonderful guide to overcoming those obstacles and living the life we are meant to live.”

  —Nancy Grace

  Host of HLN’s Nancy Grace and Dancing with the Stars final-five contestant (season 13)

  Visit Tyndale online at www.tyndale.com.

  TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

  Love Isn’t Supposed to Hurt

  Copyright © 2012 by Christi Paul. All rights reserved.

  Cover and author photographs by Stephen Vosloo. Copyright © Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Wedding photograph copyright © by Gelston Dwight Photography (Hawaii). All rights reserved.

  Designed by Jacqueline L. Nuñez

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version,® NIV.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com.

  Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

  Some of the names in this book have been changed out of respect for the privacy of the individuals mentioned.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Paul, Christi.

  Love isn’t supposed to hurt / Christi Paul.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-1-4143-6737-8 (hc)

  1. Paul, Christi. 2. Christian biography—United States. 3. Christian women—Religious life. 4. Wife abuse—United States. 5. Wife abuse—Religious aspects—Christianity. 6. Television news anchors—United States—Biography. I. Title.

  BR1725.P274A3 2012

  248.8´6092—dc23

  [B] 2012003019

  To my cherished daughters, Ava Isabella, Sofia Faith, and Sadie Ruth:

  You are strong, creative, compassionate, and brave. God is gonna do great things through you. In fact, He already has.

  I am so blessed to be your mom. Thank you for all you are. You are loved beyond words.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Remember Your Roots

  Chapter 2: When You Lose, Don’t Lose the Lesson

  Chapter 3: Being Angry Doesn’t Give Anyone License to Be Cruel

  Chapter 4: The Most Important Things in Life Aren’t Things

  Chapter 5: People Can Say Something in a Second That Takes Years to Heal

  Chapter 6: Keep the Faith

  Chapter 7: Refuse to Play Small

  Chapter 8: You Are Equipped with the Courage You Need

  Chapter 9: Never Underestimate the Power of Forgiveness

  Chapter 10: Pain Is Temporary; How Temporary Is Up to You

  Chapter 11: In the Silence, Find Your Strength

  Chapter 12: Don’t Let Yesterday Waste Today

  Chapter 13: Be Still and Know

  Chapter 14: You Never Run Out of Chances with God

  Chapter 15: Your Worth Is Intact, Right Now

  Chapter 16: God Has No Limits

  Chapter 17: You Can Be Grateful and Still Want More

  Chapter 18: Guard Your Thoughts; What You Think, You Become

  Chapter 19: Failure Is the Opportunity to Begin Again

  Epilogue

  Letter to Readers

  Appendix 1: Let’s Get Real: The Exercises

  Appendix 2: Help for Those Experiencing Abuse

  Appendix 3: Red Flags That May Indicate Abusive or Potentially Abusive Behavior

  Appendix 4: Help for Friends and Family of the Abused

  About the Author

  Foreword

  When my dear friend Christi Paul first talked to me about writing a book a couple of years ago, we were sitting next to each other in the makeup chairs at CNN headquarters. It was early morning, and while the rest of us were still waking up, Christi was already a bundle of energy. One of my favorite parts of the day was the impromptu discussions I had with Christi.

  On that day I was running off to do my show and Christi had hers, so we didn’t have as much time to chat. I asked her what she planned to write about. She paused for a while, and for a brief moment her trademark megawatt smile disappeared from her face. “It will be about hope,” she eventually answered. That sparked a discussion we have continued ever since. I told her that when Pandora opened the box, many evils escaped—including pain, anguish, and misery. But as some versions of the mythology go, one evil didn’t make it out.

  “Forbearance,” I told her. “We never know what the future holds, and that provides the greatest hope of all.” It is a quintessential human ingredient, and without it, we would be a very different species.

  I could tell that my comment hit the mark with Christi, but until I just finished reading her wonderful book, I wasn’t entirely sure why. I had heard when this beautiful woman started at CNN that her previous life had been a difficult one, and as a polite colleague, I never wanted to intrude. I was, however, always curious about what had happened to her and shaped her into the person she is now.

  Over the years Christi had three daughters and I had three daughters, all around the same age. That cemented our friendship even more. I would laughingly inquire about her husband’s sanity, being outnumbered by gals in the house. More seriously, I would talk to Christi about the hopes, dreams, and aspirations she had for her own girls. It seemed I was always trying to learn the best ways to care for my own daughters. Now, after reading this book, I realize Christi provided me an important gift to pass on to my girls—life lessons we all wish we had learned earlier.

  To be honest, at the beginning this was a tough book to read. I was learning some awful details about my friend Christi’s life, things she had never shared with me or many other people. As I read each chapter, I was worried about her safety, and I
worried that she would be too broken and too battered to fulfill the life she deserved to have. Even though I knew the outcome and realized that Christi had persevered through some very tough times, I could not stop reading to learn exactly how she did it. I also realize this was exactly why she wanted me to read it. After all, she had once told me, “It will be about hope.” And she really delivered.

  The book is about more than that, though. It is about unexpected lessons, taking control of your life, and digging deep to find your courage. At times, the book will challenge your faith—even trash it—as you hear what Christi endured. But in the end she brilliantly always comes back to that galvanizing theme of hope.

  Most of us work with colleagues every day and even become friends with them without knowing who they really are or where they came from. That all changed when I read Love Isn’t Supposed to Hurt. Having written books myself, I know it is scary to put yourself out there for the world to see—and to be vulnerable about some of the most delicate details of your life. Christi was both courageous and brilliant in the telling of her story.

  Regardless of your own faith or system of belief, you will learn how the beautiful woman you see on TV every day chose to rely on her own faith and how she turned real tragedy into genuine triumph. After you read the book, hopefully you will get a chance to share it with those you love. At the right time, I will share these stories with my own daughters.

  —Sanjay Gupta

  Acknowledgments

  My parents, Roger and Ann:

  Thank you for giving me a home where I could make mistakes and not pay for them all my life, a foundation to know I wasn’t only your child but also God’s child, and a sense that, no matter what happened, there was a purpose for me.

  My Gram Ruth Paul:

  I’m sorry we both have this kind of pain in common. I’m grateful we both have our gumption in common. Thank you for showing me you can have a beautiful, purposeful, joyful life with or without a man beside you.

  My Gram Ruth Long:

  Thank you for always being there for me—with cinnamon toast, a glass of milk, and an “I love you.”

  Jody, Wesley, and Frederick Paul and my aunts, uncles, and cousins:

  I am so blessed to be part of your family.

  Danny Paul:

  Thanks for getting in just enough trouble every once in a while to take the heat off me. And thanks for letting me lean on you, little brother. I love you.

  Nanette Cole Eonta and Jennifer Tibboles Mills:

  Thank you for being the sisters I never genetically had. You’ve held me up when I was ready to crumble, cheered me on when I was trying to fly, and made me laugh until my sides split. Your love, laughter, and loyalty have been the best examples of what true friends are. Thank you. My heart is full.

  Carey Pena, Colleen Favetti, Samantha Mohr, Daryn Kagan, Asieh Namdar, Linda Stouffer, Kyra Phillips, Stefani Schaefer, Rachel Thibodeau, Melissa Buchanan, and Marcia Bothe:

  You’re inspirations to me! You show me what’s possible, and you share yourselves so openly. I’m a better person for having you in my life.

  Heidi Bodine, Greg Copeland, Holly Wendt, Jason Hamilton, and Robin Meade:

  Your endless support makes my heart swell. Thank you.

  Ben Mira, Duane Meyer, Randy Miller, and Greg Glover:

  Thank you for always being my protectors and for your insights into the male mind. You’re prime examples of “the good guys” out there. Well, except for your high school antics, but that’s a whole other book. Ha! I’m grateful for you always.

  Uwe Stender and Kenny Lindner:

  Agents extraordinaire! Thank you for your expertise, your guidance, and your fighting spirit. I’m lucky to have you on my side.

  Carol Traver:

  Your belief in this story and in me still boggles my mind. Thank you for taking a chance to talk about something that’s been hidden behind closed doors for far too long.

  Stephanie Rische:

  You’re to a manuscript what a dishwasher is to a glass—your cleaning and polishing make the vital messages transparent. Thank you for helping my voice and my story shine brighter. It’s better because of you.

  My CNN/HLN/In Session family:

  Chuck Roberts, Sanjay Gupta, Nancy Grace, Jane Velez Mitchell, Bill Galvin, Scott Tufts, Tim Mallon, Brad Tachco, Sunny Hostin, Renea Lyon, Tara Hill, Carolyn Disbrow, Alison Rudnik, and our incredible team of talented producers, directors, writers, makeup artists, and fellow anchors—thank you for your ever-present encouragement, words of wisdom, and staunch support! I’m so blessed to be able to work alongside you clever, creative people whom I not only respect but also truly like and appreciate.

  Dr. Amelia Case:

  Your hours of probing, guiding, cheering, and questioning helped me do something remarkable: thank God for every step and misstep, trust my instincts, and recognize how beneficial every trial and trauma is to making us who we’re meant to be. You’re an angel, and I’m eternally grateful.

  My husband, Peter:

  Just like the meaning of your name, you are my rock. Your extraordinary strength, acceptance, compassion, and gut-busting laugh rock my world in the best possible way. No wonder women are always asking me if you have an available brother. You’re the best gift God ever brought to my life. I love our mantra in this house when something breaks:

  Our girls: Daddy will fix it, Mamma.

  Me: Why will Daddy fix it?

  All of us: Because Daddy fixes everything [with our hands in the air].

  That’s true on so many levels. God help the young men our girls date. They have a lot to live up to.

  I love you forever.

  Prologue

  I’m convinced that somewhere in the archives of a photography studio in Ohio there is a picture of me I never want to see.

  The sun was beautifully bright that August afternoon in Sandusky as we stood in front of a gorgeous garden splashed with flowers. The photographer said, “Go ahead and dip her.” My new husband slid his hand around my back, and as he started to dip me, he hissed at me through his smile, which was really just gritted teeth. “When is this going to f---ing be over?”

  At that moment the sun was my enemy. It had to be exposing the white of my face as the blood drained out of it.

  Could it be? Could my husband of only two hours want that desperately not to be in this moment?

  I felt like someone had poked a hole through my chest, stuck a straw in the opening, and started sucking the air out of my lungs. No breath came out for a few seconds. Just long enough for the shock to register on my face as the camera flashed.

  And somewhere in a closet of that photography studio they probably have it on a negative they were too kind to ever develop. Thank you, photographer.

  But the words were seared into my memory . . . no picture needed. It was at that split second that I thought, for the first but not the last time that day, Dear God, what have I done?

  Chapter 1

  Remember Your Roots

  Dear God, what have I done?

  Of all the things I dreamed of feeling on the day I got married, that was not one of them.

  I know. I should have been more honest with myself. By that point in my life I had sat through my share of weddings. If I had lined them up to see how many unions had survived, I’d say I was looking at a 50/50 split—half of the marriages were still going strong, and half had already crumbled. I was a big talker back in the day, too, often proclaiming, “I don’t care if I’m standing at the end of the aisle in my dress with everyone seated and ready to go. If it doesn’t feel right, I’m not walking down that aisle!”

  But that’s exactly what I did. Standing at the back of the church, just before the doors opened, with my father by my side, I said, “Dad . . . you’ll always be the number one man in my life.” I looked at him, and he was fighting back tears. Thinking back on the day now, I wonder if it was simply because he was facing that moment a father dreads most—giving his daughter away�
�or if there was more to it. If he, too, was scared. If he knew that this was not how things should be.

  It should have been a warning sign to me that when I told him he’d always be the number one man in my life, I truly meant it. You’d think that as I was getting ready to say, “I do,” I should have been pledging that spot to my new husband. Or that I wouldn’t feel the need to “number” people at all—that I could love both of them without categorization. But, truth be told, the man I was walking toward was not someone who made me feel safe or cherished or authentically loved. I think I just convinced myself of that for as long as I could because it was what I wanted to believe . . . whether it was real or not. And in that moment, despite all my proclamations of “I’ll never make that mistake,” there I was, walking right into it.

  In terms of logistics, everything else was perfect. My most treasured friends were there standing up for me, the church was filled with all the people who were important in my life, and my dear family friend and pastor, Roger Miller, had come back to town to perform the ceremony. I suppose those distractions were enough for me to gloss over the truth that was standing right in front of me.

  Roger’s message that day was haunting, though I didn’t realize it for a few more years. He kept repeating, “Remember your roots. Remember the family you came from that loves you. Remember what makes you who you are. . . . Remember your roots.” Maybe he knew too. Maybe he sensed this was not where God meant for me to be. Maybe the message was Pastor Roger’s way of preparing me for the journey ahead . . . and giving me some direction to guide me through it. But I’m sure even he had no idea how torturous the journey was going to be.