The Wizard

When I watched the Wizard of Oz, I was like every little girl, I wanted to go to Oz. It had to be better than the world I lived in, Alaska. When, The Wizard; first appeared I thought nothing more than he was a voice on the other end of the line. Within a short time, he was a voice I waited to call, he laughed at my jokes however juvenile and he said I was charming, it became days I would wish for a phone call to hear his voice hoping he would take me from the world I lived in.

As in Oz, there were signs of the tarnished curtain so very early, I should have realized long before I pulled it back. A picture early on in our conversations, me holding my 2 year old son, “Is that a shadow or fat, I see?”

My pause was one because until this moment, weight had never been, will say, an issue. The Wizard had only been my second boyfriend in my whole life(18); boys had been my friends but he was the first since my son’s father who had found me attractive. He was charming and witty and when he arrived in the hot air balloon, one spring afternoon I thought unlike the movie; please take me away, take me to Oz. I wished of Dorothy and the unknown places she was going to go.

I would eventually travel in his hot air balloon, and Oz was as I had hoped: scary, different, and well, magical. However, I was alone and now away from my friends and family. In Oz, I was Dorothy, a new place, new people and only memories of a world now a Hot Air Balloon ride away. The Wizard’s curtain was beginning now to began to tatter, what had been a hopeful future became debt and bills and battles that were long before my storyline ever started. But I was committed and I knew in Oz anything was possible, or so I hoped.

When opportunity struck him, I unexpectedly went from family of three to single mom and housekeeper, I begrudged no one for an opportunity so I quietly sat patient of his return. The Wizard traveled more then he didn’t. It wasn’t long to realize the debt that was still awaiting us and knew I couldn’t stay at home playing house, I quickly found a job that was wonderful, and I had my own supporting cast: a Tin Man, a Scarecrow, a Cowardly Lion and my own Toto.

The weeks of travel turned into months and I stayed ever patient that The Wizard would return home. After a specific trip home, I had mentioned a friend had come to visit immediately I was consumed with questions of this friend’s return and concerns over their occupancy of our residence. I thought little of the request that no one visit our home, unless The Wizard had approved of them far later realizing those approvals would never come. And upon his infrequent returns, if I did leave our house for even a brief time it was clocked on an egg timer, if my return wasn’t timely I was scolded.

There were a thousand small things that as a woman, I can say The Wizard was right. I should clean the kitchen, I should have done the laundry better(I HATE laundry, just a side note) but on others he was distinguishably wrong.  Upon buying a grill for our first Easter holiday, I was told build this please. I thought nothing of the 5 hours it took me to build it on our beautiful deck, until that evening when I went to lay down. I mentioned my discomfort and it was shrugged off as unimportant as was many things in those day, he had a trip and as I packed the last pair of underwear he proclaimed I’d be fine and to suck it up.

After dropping him off at the airport I arrived at work in tears. What the night before had been painful was now 2 inch blisters across my shoulders and back. I cried as my companions took my uniform shirt from my back and gasped. “How long has this been this way?” They proclaimed.

As tears rolled down my face, I was sent to the ER. I was immediately treated for topical third degree burns, not the worst thing in the world but it was then I began to discover I was alone, the doctors asked if I had someone to dress my wounds, and I wept. I knew not a single person in Oz except for my companions at my work but they had been put at a far distance because to The Wizard socializing with others was out of the question.

When a visitor from the North visited once, he commented about my lack of connections and friendship. His visit, as was he, mysterious at best.  When he arrived unexpected at my work, I cried as I wrapped my arms around him, he was Uncle Henry in my storm. He didn’t know but his questions of my life in Oz, were a turning point. Though I had only been there a short time, I knew something was wrong.

Even with a scarecrow, a cowardly lion, a tin man and a Toto I was only safe, I found at work. The one place he couldn’t control, in the end of our time together he did try to use my safe haven against me but with my companions I was safe and in the end, my story, ended uneventfully, but was eventful in its own respect. You see The Wizard had made decisions, like the ownership of our one car, who I was allowed to be friends with and what I was allowed to do. I was ill prepared for the world outside of his Oz. I thought I was now left to the flying monkeys who waited at the door, with a small child I took what we owned and moved to a neighborhood only blocks away from our original home. It was a horrible new reality but the one I was forced to live in, 5am wake up calls to get up an uncooperative toddler to the overnights of laying down on the couch and praying his favorite video would eventually sooth his toddler soul; because we were going to have to be up in only a few short hours.

I don’t know that what I went through all those years ago is defined as abuse, I can tell you he removed me from EVERYTHING, EVERYONE and made me believe for a very long time I was unimportant and deserved nothing.  There are still effects of those times and things that happened, I’m overly protective of my friends and whom I trust, I want to believe in all people there is good but I realized long ago that isn’t true. I hold no one but myself accountable for what happened in OZ.  The tarnished and tattered curtain of The Wizard was always apparent and had I listened to those around me or been more vocal of my fears in life perhaps I wouldn’t have suffered as long as I did. I don’t believe he ever meant to be a monster, I don’t think he ever thought he was a monster. But as in Oz, The Wizard was the one who changed me the most.