<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:46:16.035-07:00</updated><category term='Abuse'/><category term='illness'/><category term='Romance'/><category term='Marina'/><category term='Ear'/><category term='First Date'/><category term='Lovers'/><category term='domestic violence'/><category term='priorities'/><category term='headaches'/><category term='Him'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='Anger Management'/><category term='Battering'/><category term='The Couple'/><category term='Human Bite'/><category term='Biting'/><category term='Verbal Abuse'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='Lunch'/><category term='Batterer'/><category term='Meeting'/><category term='Blood'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>The Battered Bride</title><subtitle type='html'>They were the perfect couple, everyone said so and 
she thought so too.  Little did she know, her Prince Charming had a very dark side. This is the true story of a battered bride.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897.post-668526454988757968</id><published>2007-11-17T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T18:18:14.156-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger Management'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Verbal Abuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Batterer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><title type='text'>Verbal Abuse</title><summary type='text'>I made a decision today to post every incident that happens.  He has been raging all day long because I said something about the mini blinds on the living room windows.  We had gone out to breakfast and came home.  We ate at Denny's.He was putting the storm windows back in and had the mini blinds pulled all the way up exposing the entire window.  There has been an ongoing battle for months at our</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/668526454988757968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1334301044262585897&amp;postID=668526454988757968&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/668526454988757968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/668526454988757968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/2007/11/verbal-abuse.html' title='Verbal Abuse'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897.post-3425244113954772127</id><published>2007-09-04T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T14:32:03.795-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='headaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='priorities'/><title type='text'>Priorities</title><summary type='text'>They say there are some men who cannot bear the thought of a women being ill, they see it as a weakness.  I know this is not true with all men, but it IS true with my husband.  He becomes meaner and more abusive to me when I am feeling poorly.I suffer often with severe cluster headaches.  I take extremely strong medication for them and the side effects vary from one dose to the next.  Sometimes I</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/3425244113954772127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1334301044262585897&amp;postID=3425244113954772127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/3425244113954772127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/3425244113954772127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/2007/09/priorities.html' title='Priorities'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897.post-6810395620578208535</id><published>2007-09-04T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T14:23:24.973-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Battering'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Human Bite'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Batterer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biting'/><title type='text'>Summer</title><summary type='text'>Summer PassesAn entire season has past almost and I wish I could say it had been uneventful but it has not.  The batering continued but I forgot days, dates, etc so what good is it?  The last physical thing he did was to bite me on the left ear so hard that it bled.  I cried and he just stared at me as though he had no clue as to my tears or what caused them.I pulled my hand away from my ear and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/6810395620578208535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1334301044262585897&amp;postID=6810395620578208535&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/6810395620578208535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/6810395620578208535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/2007/09/summer.html' title='Summer'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897.post-3408589306617650589</id><published>2007-03-29T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T02:22:08.861-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lovers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Lovers</title><summary type='text'>He called her everyday and they saw each other as often as possible. Every moment they spent together was wonderful. They had so many things in common. They both held a great love for water sports, art, museums, and the outdoors. She found herself dreading the end of her vacation which was quickly drawing near. When she returned home it would put a distance of over 800 miles between them and she </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/3408589306617650589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1334301044262585897&amp;postID=3408589306617650589&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/3408589306617650589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/3408589306617650589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/2007/03/lovers.html' title='Lovers'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897.post-6719860908741943671</id><published>2007-03-28T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T02:23:15.792-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lunch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Date'/><title type='text'>The First Date</title><summary type='text'>He had told her on the phone that he currently worked the evening shift so he would have to head for work right after lunch. She didn't mind, she had not really looked forward to this "date" and was anxious to get it over with. He just seemed a bit egotistical to her.She wasn't sure what bothered her about him other than his constant push to meet her. Surely with his good looks he could have his </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/6719860908741943671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1334301044262585897&amp;postID=6719860908741943671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/6719860908741943671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/6719860908741943671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/2007/03/first-date.html' title='The First Date'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334301044262585897.post-8449304641406607830</id><published>2007-03-26T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T15:03:44.634-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Him'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Couple'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meeting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='First Date'/><title type='text'>The Beginning</title><summary type='text'>They met while she was visiting someone in another state. It never occurred to her she would meet anyone who would impact her life in such a way in the 3 week visit to a relative.   It was June of 2001.  She had just ended a serious relationship 3 years earlier and certainly was not looking to get involved with someone else at this point in her life.A mutual friend knew him and had shown him a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/feeds/8449304641406607830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1334301044262585897&amp;postID=8449304641406607830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/8449304641406607830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1334301044262585897/posts/default/8449304641406607830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://batteredbride.blogspot.com/2007/03/beginning.html' title='The Beginning'/><author><name>BatteredBride</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12475297204665897047</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://i13.tinypic.com/32zkepi.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
