Sometimes, All You Need…

So, yeah–I was up super late, so bear with me if this gets twisty–I’m not saying that it will, but it may. I haven’t been sleeping well for the last month or so–and I’ll get to why that might be in a sec–but last night’s wakefulness was something entirely different. Last night, it was about a person–an incredibly awesome man who is amazing and wonderful and kind and all of the good things that exist. And it was about not wanting a conversation to end–and about knowing that it wouldn’t–even when hanging up the phone–but still not wanting it to end nonetheless–even temporarily. 

I know that I say it a lot, but I am so extremely lucky (fortunate?) to have the people in my life that I do. Ten years ago, had you asked where I pictured my life in ten years, I would not have told you the truth. I would have lied and said that I pictured having kids and a great career–and a happy marriage. But I knew then, I wouldn’t have any of that–mainly because I didn’t really want kids (at least not with my husband at the time), I didn’t have a clue about what I wanted to do for my career–at that point I already held both a Juris Doctor (a fancy schmancy way of saying a law degree) and a Master’s of Social Work degree–and absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with either of them; and I also knew, from the day that I married my ex husband, that I was making the biggest mistake of my life–and I was too cowardly to speak up and save us both an incredible amount of pain, strife and energy.

 I can’t even begin to list what it could have saved just for me–that list would be far too long and hella depressing–nobody wants to read about that. Besides, self pity is not a good look on anyone. 

Why am I telling you this? Because October is, among other things, Domestic Violence Awareness Month. And, while I absolutely loathe that term, that’s what it’s called, at least for now. And apparently, this is the time, designated by God knows who, that we acknowledge all things considered, “domestic violence”. The sarcasm doesn’t really come through, but know that this issue needs our attention for more than just one calendar month every year.

As many of you know, this is an issue that I feel extremely passionate about–not just b/c it’s a part of my story, but also b/c I know that speaking out can and does save lives–literally and figuratively speaking. Another reason that I care so deeply about this issue is trickier to explain without sounding completely self-absorbed and vile–but, put bluntly, I talk about it and care about it b/c if it can happen to someone like me–it can happen to anyone. And that scares me a whole lot. Let me explain before you get the wrong idea. 

I say this b/c we have too many stereotypes that we associate with WHO this type of violence happens to. Often, it’s assumed that your typical domestic violence (DV) victim/survivor is poor, stupid,  uneducated, unattractive, dependent, helpless–and hopeless. And weak–so very weak.  It’s an awfully persistent, awfully inaccurate stereotype–but one that you will constantly hear about any time that this topic arises.  And, as I see it, this needs to stop–this type of useless, destructive view of WHO becomes abused. This is so much easier said than done, I get that–and I’m guessing that it endures because it ultimately imparts the illusion of safety. That if you aren’t any of those things, you will avoid being abused. 

But, in reality, it doesn’t work like that–not even a little bit. So many women (and I say women b/c the vast majority of victims/survivors are women) that I’ve met, who have also left abusive relationships, are vibrant, beautiful, intelligent independent women who did nothing wrong other than fall for the wrong guy. And it really comes down to that–who you allow to occupy space in your mind and heart. 

My ex husband (IMHO) is a psychopath and I am lucky to have survived my time with him. I deliberately omit the details of our relationship for a lot of reasons, but mainly b/c words have power and speaking about this stuff, in detail, gives my past too much real estate in my conscious mind. I genuinely wish that I could be that person–the one who bravely speaks in excruciating detail about her past and is so completely open about all of her experiences for the good of human kind. But that’s not me–not yet anyway. 

The person I am now is happy by nature/temperament (I largely have been my whole life), is outgoing, friendly and helpful (hopefully)–and is also plagued by terrible nightmares that could actually be (and likely are) memories of my time spent married to my ex husband. That’s a huge part of why I haven’t been sleeping well–b/c when we cram it all down inside of us, our fears and pains tend to find other ways of making themselves known when they’re ready to be dealt with. Fun, right? 

September was an extremely difficult month for me this year–but it gave me my sign that it’s time to face what took place for all those years that I was married. And hopefully, it gets resolved/reconciled in my mind–finally. 

I’m very optimistic that this journey will be made so much easier b/c of the people in my orbit, especially that one incredible guy (my whatever consort), who makes me feel safe and worthy and cared for (loved?)–and also b/c of all of you, gorgeous friends. Because you take the time and care enough to read what I have to say–even when it’s not funny or even remotely entertaining. That means the world to me. From the bottom of my semi-dead, partially blackened heart–thank you. xo