Mark’s Northeastern Furniture Foundation Blogs – Shelly Whitman

I don’t live in New England, so I’m not someone who can benefit from Mark’s Northeastern Furniture Foundation, and I no longer need the kind of help they provide. But there was a time I did, and I want to write about that time, in case there are New England women out there who find themselves in the same position I was in, many years ago. 

I married someone who appeared to be a great guy. He talked the talk—knew feminist theory, for heaven’s sake. I thought, this is wonderful. But the night of our wedding he exploded when he spilled champagne on his tux, and he scared me. He swore violently, and I spent a good part of the night calming him down. One day he pinned me against the wall and covered both my mouth and nose with his hand, to shut me up. I couldn’t breathe. I held very still, kept my eyes down, and he let me go.

This went on for almost five years. I tried everything, sent him love notes, got counseling—for me, not him—he wouldn’t go because I was the problem. Once, while we were walking to church, and I wanted to walk a different way, he said, “Do you see that wall over there? Do you want to see it with your brains running down it?” These kinds of threats were common.

I had little money, no furniture, no way out, but it became him or me, and I was terrified that I would snap, kill him, and go to prison, or I would kill him and then myself. So I managed to scrape together enough money for a tiny basement apartment. The night before I moved out, he insisted on sleeping with me. 

The next day, while he was at school, I threw some clothes together and drove to the new apartment. A friend moved a bed in for me. As the days passed, I became more and more tired. After two weeks I thought, I either have leukemia, or I’m pregnant, and honestly, I wasn’t sure which one I preferred. I took a home pregnancy test: It was positive.

I was inconsolable. I had found a job at the university, but I was making $700 a month, and my rent was $250. How was I supposed to make it? I didn’t have a couch, couldn’t afford a crib—and the medical bills!

Word got out, and people came through. A good friend gave me her old couch and chair. Another friend bought me a crib, and her husband assembled it. Someone else donated a small kitchen table and two chairs. I haunted thrift stores for baby things and made some good scores.

I was lucky—I had my friends, and they are the best. But many people in the same situation don’t have the kind of help I had.

If you’re in the New England area and find yourself in a similar predicament, think about Mark’s Northeast Furniture Foundation. They repurpose used furniture in good condition, as well as gently used and new mattresses, and distribute them to low-income families in New England. I could have used them once upon a time, if my friends had not been able to help me. 

How did my ex take all this? Not well. He got a job at the hospital where I was planning to give birth, found my address, and stalked me for two years. But that’s an entirely different story. I’ll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, I am still here, I have a beautiful daughter, and he is long gone.

Listen—If you find yourself sleeping on the floor, call Mark’s. They can help. I bet they even supply cribs, if needed.