There are days where I don’t want to leave the house because
I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. I endured years of being belittled by someone
that claimed to love me, being used as his personal punching bag (literally),
and being threatened that anything I ever tried to do to better myself he would
be there to tear me apart. I let not one man get away with this, but two, the
second being far worse than the first (let me correct myself: a “man” would not
treat a woman he claims to love in this way, he would treat her as though she
were a queen). Home-cooked dinners were never good enough and sometimes would
be either thrown on the floor for me to clean or thrown at me, the house was
never good enough, the way I cared for my children was never good enough, if I
wore nice clothes and put on makeup I was accused of other men. It didn’t
matter what I did, nothing was good enough. I was not good enough. The way I
breathed was not good enough. The fact that I didn’t participate in his illicit
activities was not good enough.
After several years of living this life, I finally got the
courage to say, “I will not let him control me anymore. I, and only I, am in
control of my life.” When I got proof of one of his little flings, as I call
them, the year before I took my life back, he actually had the audacity to tell
me that he wanted her (pregnant at the time) and her three or four kids to move
in. There was no way I was going to let this sleaze and her kids move in for me
to take care of while they ran around doing whatever they wanted. This was my final straw. I found the courage
to tell him it wasn’t going to happen, which of course made him mad. It was at
this point I began what my neighbor called “weaning myself” from the situation.
I had been under his thumb for over a decade and had grown accustomed to the belittling
and beatings.
One night, he didn’t come home and I was unable to contact
him for an emergency with one of my children. I got the emergency taken care of
myself that night. When he tried to come home the next afternoon, I would not
let him in the house. When he tried to come through the back door, I greeted him
by throwing his clothes by handfuls out of the upstairs window. I told him that
he was never going to control my life again.
This was the moment that I felt like an enormous weight was
lifted from my shoulders. I felt as if I could breath again. Over the next
several months, I grew stronger each day. My favorite song was A
Little Bit Stronger by Sara Evans. Each time I listened to that song, I
felt myself gain strength. Seven years later, when I feel myself falling, I
listen to this song to remind me of what I have overcame and that I am a strong
woman. No longer will I hide behind closed doors. No longer will I let him have
control over me. I AM ME!!!
Some days I falter and feel weak. Sometimes people say
things or look at me a certain way and I start to revert back to those days in
my mind. This is not something that I want to happen, it just does. He still
does things to try and control me and plays mind games through my children, and
this often causes me to have a setback. I sometimes get panic attacks when I have
to be in the same place as him because I have flashbacks of all the times he
beat on and threatened me.
I am shaking inside and my heart is racing right now just thinking
about it, but I have to tell my story. I am done being his victim. It is time
for me to be me, permanently. Better days are in the future for my children and
me. He will not reap the benefits of my success, nor will I allow him to take
it away from me.
