Marriage had always been a partnership of love and support, or at least that’s what I believed when Steve and I first tied the knot 16 years ago. Over time, we were blessed with five beautiful daughters, each one a joy and a challenge in her own way. Yet, in Steve’s eyes, our family lacked something crucial: a son.
Steve’s desire for a male heir became an obsession, overshadowing every happy moment we had. His traditional mindset dictated that a man’s legacy could only be carried on by a son, and our daughters, no matter how wonderful, were seen as inadequate. This belief had eaten away at the fabric of our marriage, turning our once joyous union into a battleground of unmet expectations and silent resentment.
Steve’s job kept him away most of the time, leaving me to juggle the responsibilities of raising our daughters, maintaining the household, and managing a part-time online job. His absence wasn’t just physical; it was emotional too. He was a shadow in our home, present yet distant, and his discontent seeped into every corner of our lives.
The Breaking Point
One late night, a seemingly innocent conversation spiraled into a full-blown argument. I had suggested trying one more time for a son, even though I was already forty. Steve’s response was brutal and laced with years of pent-up frustration.
“Shut up already,” he snapped. “We’ve been together for 16 years and you couldn’t bring me a son. What makes you think you will do it this time?”
I tried to reason with him, “But Steve, only God…”
“ONLY GOD DECIDED TO PUNISH ME WITH YOU AND ANOTHER 5 FEMALES,” he yelled, his face contorted with anger. “I wish I could go back in time and change everything.”
The venom in his words was palpable, and it stung more than any physical blow could. Our daughters, our life together, everything we had built was being torn down in this moment of raw emotion. Suddenly, we heard a noise behind the door. When we checked, there was no one there, and we dismissed it as the creaking of an old house. Little did we know, that sound was a harbinger of the events that would soon unfold.
The Missing Child
The next day, our lives took an unexpected turn. It was 6 pm, and Lisa, our 12-year-old, was always home by this time. Panic set in when she didn’t show up. As worry gnawed at us, Sara, our second-born, came running with tears streaming down her face, clutching a letter.
Steve snatched the letter from her hand and began reading. His face went ashen, his eyes widened with fear. He turned to me, his voice trembling, “This is serious.”
The letter was a ransom note. It claimed that Lisa had been kidnapped and demanded an exorbitant amount of money for her safe return. The instructions were clear: no police, no tricks, or we’d never see her again.
The Race Against Time
Our world was shattered. The next hours were a blur of frantic phone calls, desperate plans, and heart-wrenching decisions. Steve, usually stoic and composed, was a mess. His obsession with having a son seemed insignificant now compared to the possibility of losing his daughter.
The experience taught us that the value of family isn’t determined by gender but by the love, respect, and support we give each other. Steve learned to cherish his daughters and our marriage, realizing that true happiness comes from within and is nurtured by the bonds we share.
Our lives were forever changed by that harrowing experience, but it also brought us closer, forging a stronger, more resilient family. The past year had been incredibly tough, but it led to a new beginning, one where we could all be truly happy together.
She was frequently beaten by her husband, so she left the house with her kids.
Cara Brookins was left emotionally broken when her second abusive marriage ended. She got well by building her own house, which she did after seeing YouTube videos on how to do it.
The mother of four started looking for a new house in 2007 after being forced to sell the Bryant, Arkansas, home she and her soon-to-be ex shared. At the moment, though, anything the computer programmer analyst could afford was too tiny. Brookins too felt obliged to take action to bring her family back together. She admits, “But I had no idea what that should be.”
Brookins, therefore, came up with the idea to build her own house from the ground up. According to Brookins, 45, “If anyone was in our situation, they wouldn’t do this.” “No one else viewed it this way, and now that I think about it, I understand it sounds crazy.”
One acre of property cost Brookins $20,000, and she obtained a building credit for about $150,000. She then started watching YouTube tutorials to learn how to do things like run a gas line, build a wall, lay a foundation, and install plumbing.
Her children, ages 2 to 17, helped her throughout the nine-month construction of the 3,500-square-foot home. At the time, Drew, who was 15 years old, helped Brookins make the preparations. Jada, who was 11 at the time, transported water from a neighbor’s pond using buckets because there was no running water on the property. She then combined the water with 80-pound sacks of concrete to create the mortar for the foundation.
It felt impossible the entire time, according to Brookins, who worked when the kids were in school. After school, Brookins drove her family to the five-mile-away construction site where she worked late into the night on the new house.
YouTube videos previously were vague and provided numerous solutions to a task. Brookins employed a part-time firefighter with building experience for $25 per hour to help with some of the more challenging tasks. She remembers, “He was a step ahead of us in knowledge.”
On March 31, 2009, Brookins and her kids moved into the five-bedroom home. She gave it the name Inkwell Manor in recognition of her desire to become a writer.
In the years afterwards, Brookins has written numerous middle grade and young adult books. She has also written a biography titled Rise: How a House Built a Family, which will be released on January 24.
Building the house helped Brookins emerge from her depression. We were ashamed that our best option was to construct our own shelter, Brookins adds. “We weren’t really proud of it,” In the end, it proved to be the best thing I could have done for myself.
She says, “You can do anything you set your mind to if I, a 110 pound computer programmer, can build a complete house.” Choose one goal and stay with it. Find the big thing you want to do, move slowly in that direction, and take those who also need healing with you. That has a lot of influence.
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