Out running my Saturday errands today, I heard a song that was popular my senior year of high school. I loved this song, still do. I turned up the volume and was transported back to a time before I was completely, totally engulfed by him. My chest began the familiar ache of deep regret.
What if I had made the choice not to marry him, as a scared, lost 18 year old? What if I had honored my inner voice when it said, "Don't do this"? What if I had stayed gone the first, s...econd, or third times I separated from him? Where would I be? What would my life look like? Surely, it would be better than this, a time when I have to worry over every dollar and don't know from month to month where the money will come from, as I live in someone else's home and work constantly trying to earn money and secure a good job. After a lot of incredibly hard work and even a graduate degree, I am left with nothing because he has chosen to continue to target me. My eyes began to well up.
What if I had made the choice not to marry him, as a scared, lost 18 year old? What if I had honored my inner voice when it said, "Don't do this"? What if I had stayed gone the first, s...econd, or third times I separated from him? Where would I be? What would my life look like? Surely, it would be better than this, a time when I have to worry over every dollar and don't know from month to month where the money will come from, as I live in someone else's home and work constantly trying to earn money and secure a good job. After a lot of incredibly hard work and even a graduate degree, I am left with nothing because he has chosen to continue to target me. My eyes began to well up.
The shame is not mine. It is his. He chose to do everything he did to me and to these precious girls I have. Each time I asked for him to be different, he turned it into another opportunity to abuse. Each time I succeeded, he turned it into an opportunity to demean me. Each time I lost weight by starving myself because he constantly told me I was "unattractive" (he was hugely overweight for many, many years), he turned it into another opportunity to degrade me for something else.
No, the hands of time can't be turned back and energy spent on the "woulda, shoulda, coulda" is wasted. But I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to have these moments, even long after the escape. I have been out 5 1/2 years and I still have times where I feel physical pain when thinking of how so much of my life has been lost to domestic terrorism, and how much has been stolen from my girls because of it. It's okay to feel it, then you move on.
This is a reminder from me to you, just to say, "It's normal, and I understand."
Love,
AC
No, the hands of time can't be turned back and energy spent on the "woulda, shoulda, coulda" is wasted. But I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to have these moments, even long after the escape. I have been out 5 1/2 years and I still have times where I feel physical pain when thinking of how so much of my life has been lost to domestic terrorism, and how much has been stolen from my girls because of it. It's okay to feel it, then you move on.
This is a reminder from me to you, just to say, "It's normal, and I understand."
Love,
AC
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