Do you like you?? Took me a minute to say yes too...

When someone asks you if you like yourself, a smile should come to your face and immediately the shout out of YES! should come to your mind. Lord knows that is not what my immediate thought used to be either. And truly, that is sad. You are the only YOU you get, if you catch my drift. And why shouldn't you embrace yourself with a joy and smile? But I know the darkness that can lurk in your life and I am no stranger to the days the light seems to hide and you are so alone with yourself, someone you do not really like.

Here is my dark alley....

I have never really been comfortable with me. I have never been enough. Does that make sense? Not skinny enough, not nice enough, not hard working enough, not successful enough, not enough of a wife, not enough of a mother, not a great daughter....I could go on and on....truly...And I know now (Lord if  had only known believed this before!) that when you believe these less than wonderful things about yourself, you tend to attract people who feel that way about you as well and sadly enough, treat you that way. Then it becomes this vicious cycle, you believe you are not wonderful, you attract people that treat you that way, your beliefs that you basically suck at life are reinforced, and on and on and on.....

So I ended up in a terrible marriage. Shocking right? I know. I was at a frightfully low point in my life. I had been married and it fell apart very unknowingly and unexpectedly to me. I was blindsided to say the least. (denial is NOT just a river you know!) I felt terrible so I turned to what confirmed those feelings....

I thought our relationship was full of passion. But in reality, we were two people who were at each other's throats. I am fine with verbal fighting...I know it isn't 100% healthy but I can say fighting gets my blood pumping and in some ways makes me feel alive. But, a week after my first daughter was born c-section, I was flying through the air into her crib and I could NOT believe it. (and yes, she was in the crib) I remember thinking at that very moment, how did I get here? Why is this happening to me?

I wish I could say that is the one and only time I allowed that to happen to me. I wish I could say I kicked his POS butt out and that was the end of that. But that is what happens when the victim of first time abuse has a positive self reflection. But I did not......so that is not the end of this story.

I can say I did kick him out. I became hysterical, inconsolable. I called my parents and he went running out the door. One would think it would stiffen my resolve be better for myself, for my kids, but truly I only sunk lower. This IS what I deserve. This is what I am.

When we were not physically fighting, we were arguing. It was intense, to say the least. As are most abusers, he was good at pin pointing exactly what would make me feel horrible about myself. The spiral just continued downward for me. But he also was king at making me believe things would be fine, he would change and I would not fail at yet another marriage. So we rode this terrible roller coaster with seemingly no end in sight. I knew this was not right, but I did not believe I was good enough for anything else either.

Want details? How bad did it get? The words, the memories of just how badly it did get are hard even now to type. I have only told a few people the true extent of the abuse. (mind you, thankfully it was all focused on me, never the kids) Throwing me around is how it started, pushing me into things, walls, corners, chairs. It turned into punching me in the thighs, hips. And yes, I would fight back, like a maniac. I am no wimp in life, I am strong and outspoken, an athlete, a fighter.....but I was no match for someone a foot taller than me and out weighed me by about 100 pounds at least. And it progressively got worse.....during the fights he would get Alli out of her crib sometimes and try to leave with her. Those were the only times I remember feeling frantic. But his favorite move was to get me into our room and stand in front of the door so I could not leave. I would try to stay calm but eventually I would feel trapped and finally react violently like he wanted. The worst of the physical abuse came when I was pregnant with my youngest. He did not want the baby and he made that clear...wordlessly but the message was received loud and clear. This is when he would punch me in the stomach and when he started punching me in the face. Thankfully I am darker complected and do not bruise easily.

I can tell you the exact moment I knew I was completely done. I remember when that feeling washed over me....

One evening at the conclusion of work, my boss and office mate and I were talking. My boss wanted to know why I let him come back (after a 6 month split) and I remember not really having an answer. He showed me that I do everything for myself and my kids...I did not need him. He wanted to know why I was with him and honestly I had nothing. At that very moment I knew this was not because I was a terrible person, I knew he owned this abuse, not me. The very next day he started total insanity with me and I told him to pack his stuff and leave, I was done. He was excited to leave. I cannot say that I felt excitement, but I can say there was a huge relief in knowing when I went home, he would not be there. Finally I was okay with that.

Once again I wish I could say that was the end of this story. It isn't....

We split that day. He moved out and eventually I moved into a different house. This was a clean start for me and my kids. I wish it was that easy. I was intent on keeping him in the kids lives. He would come to the house because he did not have a safe place to take the kids to, but soon his insanity would start and I felt like I was still trapped in this relationship with him. I felt this huge burden to keep him around so the girls would have their father. At least now when he would start the fighting, I would just have to get him out of the house and that was it. Yeah, if only it was that simple.....

One day, at least a year after we split up, he was in my house and the fighting began. I fought back with intensity I do not think he as expecting. It soon became an all out brawl. I just wanted to keep pushing him back towards the door so I could get him out. I did, but in the process he busted my lip open and broke my hand. I busted his lip too. All the kids witnessed this very scary fight. I was finally scared. When I finally shoved him out the door and locked it, I slid down the door and cried hysterically. My 8 year old son came and sat next to me and held my hand. It was the last time he set foot in my house. I started therapy the next day.....

One of the first things my therapist did for me was make me open my eyes and see all the great things about me. He set out to make me look at the good and learn to love me again. And over the course of several months, he succeeded. I was enough...I could be a single mother of four....I was me and that was okay, more than okay. I have to say, I would not be here without therapy. It was a very intricate part of finally fitting into my own skin. My therapist also walked me through my relationship with my ex. He told me his relationship with the kids was not my responsibility, it was his. If he could not be what he needed to be to be in their lives and be healthy for them, then that was on him. Not me....WOW! The world was just lifted off my shoulders. I did not have to work so hard to have him in their lives, either he did it or he didn't.

Eventually I worked through everything I was ever made to feel or felt about me that was horrible. Now I could be that person I showed everyone I was all along....confident, strong, honest....enough. Only then could my life move forward.

I stopped letting him come into my house. I made it clear if he could not be healthy for the kids then he would not see them. I stopped participating in his frenzy of text wars. I made it very clear he would never spend time with me and the kids. And one night when he apparently was around my house in the wee hours of the night/morning and wrote "BITCH" in the sidewalk in front of my house with the chalk that was at my front door, I went to the police. While there was nothing legally they could do, he gave me some great pointers. 1. child visitation was a civil matter for the courts and not something they would get involved with (I was worried because he would tell me he was going to bring the police when I would refuse to let him see the kids) 2. I never have to allow him on my property and if he shows up all I have to do is call the police and he will be made to leave 3. If he hit me/attacked me again, I needed to call them and report it. (then I could get a restraining order) I told my ex all this information. It was one of the last times I would see him or speak to him.

I had to empower myself before I could move towards empowering my life. I had to finally feel like enough before I could take the necessary steps towards legal action. I firmly believe this abusive relationship very easily could have just been another sad story on the news, just another statistic....while inside the madness,  I refused to believe he would kill me. After being empowered, I knew he would kill me. The thought honestly still haunts me.

It has been four years since I have seen or heard from him.

But the triggers are still there as scars I doubt I will ever fully get rid of. I cannot handle any fight where I am made to feel like less than enough. It puts me into that dark alley again. And any touch that is in the heat of an argument makes my flight sense kick into overdrive. The touch can be the lightest of touches, but if we are arguing, I cannot take it.

These days I do like me. For the first time in my entire life, I feel empowered by positive thoughts about me, I change the things I can that I do not love about me, but am me and that is enough.

I do want to make one thing clear... this is not something that happened to me, it was created by me. While I am not responsible for his actions, his abuse, I am responsible for the thought patterns and self hate that started me down this road. When I could not bare to like me, to settle into my own skin and find something to love about me, I chose a road that unfortunately led me here. I am a survivor, but I also responsible for my life's outcome. It is only when you own your part of a situation that you can change and never put yourself there again.

I have always loved this & I try to remember it when I am thinking of others as well as myself:

Do not judge,

You don't know the storm I've asked her to walk through

God


Just another day in paradise.....