To the man who tried to destroy me,
It’s the anniversary of that date.
The date I left.
The date you shoved me into a door and stamped on my foot – a little incident in the grand scheme of things but the last one
The date I packed up my children and ran for my life.
The date your years long reign of terror came to an end.
I just wanted you to know that I remember.
I remember and I celebrate. I look at my well adjusted children, I look around my home, I look at myself in the mirror.
Then I smile.
You didn’t defeat me you see. You broke me, you dismantled me, you shattered my soul into a million fragments. I can tell you though that now, finally I am mended. It took a while, you did a very good job of breaking my spirit. Over the years when I’ve tried to build myself up I never quite got there. The fixes were too fragile – it only took one nasty comment to have me back on the floor shattered once more. It’s different this time. I stopped trying to rush it. I’m held together with superglue.
There’s been a huge shift in my mindset the past couple of years, a change in my thought process, a change in myself.
Do you know what I think kick started the new outlook? Writing this blog. Sharing my story has helped more than I could have dreamt. I’m not the only one who has been involved with men like you. There are so many, way too many of us. We tell our stories, we support one another, we comfort and we share and we listen. Women are strong, we build ourselves back stronger and with the support of other women we’re a real force. My little blog reminds me of this. When I receive messages from other women who tell me my blog helped them feel less alone that helps my own recovery. We all know your type now. Those of us who’ve attended the Freedom Programme can now spot an abusive man. We know the warning tell tale signs. There’s strength in that. Female empowerment is stronger than the likes of you thank goodness.
You won there for a little while, when you said if I left no one would believe me, they’d think me mad and take my children you had a really good go at that. You failed though. You failed spectacularly.
Because of you for years I walked around with my head down, the posture of a woman who doesn’t want to take up any space, who doesn’t want to catch anyone’s eye.
Because of you I doubted my parenting skills, I felt useless at everything and more than that I thought that’s how everyone else saw me too.
Not any more.
I’ll always be affected by what you did to me both physically and psychologically. I use it to my advantage now though.
I’m happy with who I am, with how I look. The woman who believed she was stupid, fat and ugly, your favourite three words, is gone.
My life is good. My children’s lives are really good.
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