My Side of the Story
I typically don’t like to get all philosophical and sappy on here but I figured waiting two years to share my story was long enough. TW: Abuse, loss.
Let me backup a bit - on November 30th 2019, I married the guy I had been dating for less than 2 years. I’ve already heard it all: “you’re too young,” “are you sure,” “what if …” etc. etc. Trust me, I know! But this post isn’t about how dumb I was (because, believe me, I was) but instead, of how I got through it.
For months, I had noticed our marriage going downhill. COVID quarantine started, then the excessive drinking started and the drugs started. At first, I thought I could handle it. The drinking wasn’t so bad, at least he’s not physically abusive when he’s drunk. The drugs aren’t hard drugs, it’s just weed. Then it got to the point I had to ask him to stay sober enough for one night so we could watch a movie together and have a “date night.” Guess what. That never happened. And yes, we were going to couples counseling for 2 out of 6 months of marriage. However intoxicated he was, I found myself starting to enjoy it. Because hey, he wasn’t talking to me or bothering me so much. I still wasn’t allowed out of his sight or to go hang out with friends without him, but I could at least enjoy the quiet and play on my phone (so long as I wasn’t texting anyone). *yes, I know now that this is toxic*
One day, while we were out on the porch smoking, I thought to myself “this f[reaking] sucks and I don’t want to live like this anymore.” Then I felt this overwhelming happiness cover me. It was like when you finally make the right decision -and your mind, body, and spirit all KNOW it’s the right decision. It was like I could finally breathe and taste the air again.
So I chose the date. June 1st. The beginning of the month, near the end of quarantine, and only a few days to prepare. Luckily, my parents had just cleaned out a rent house, and I was able to move there until I got my life back together - bless those parents of mine! I purposely didn’t tell anyone, except my mom. I asked her to get things ready and only tell people on a need-to-know basis. I didn’t want him to find out because I had no clue how he’d react. I had seen him get violent a time or two (never physically towards me, for the record). The night before, I texted a few friends: “Can you please come over tomorrow morning for 8am? I can explain more when you get here but come in work clothes. I need you.” I texted friends that I hadn’t talked to in months, and -praise Jesus- they showed up.
This day was one of the most difficult I’ve ever encountered. I remember telling my mom the day prior, that no matter what I said or did the next day, to please get me out. I had one moment - where people were going in and out of the house, walking around with loads of my stuff, trying to get as much as we could in as little time as possible - where I cried. I was terrified of the change and how I was going to go on with my life. I had no plan or idea, just that I needed to get out of the situation I was in. That was the last time I cried for my failed marriage.
Within 7 hours, we had almost all of my belongings packed and loaded in the u-haul, minus the couch, bed, and a few smaller tables and nightstands. The last thing I grabbed were my cats. I decided to leave our dog (my sweet Zora) for him. I honestly had no idea, or care, if I’d ever see that house again.
After work, I told him I wasn’t coming back and that I would be filing for divorce as soon as I was able (in Louisiana, you have to be separated for 6 months first).
That night, I slept on the floor of my new house. By myself, along with my cats. For the first week of leaving, I slept on the floor. Though it was humbling, I couldn’t have been more at peace. I knew I had made the right decision because even sleeping on the floor did not make me regret it (and I’m a bougie bed type of person).
Enjoy this spooky session edit of my fav wedding picture.
Since leaving, I have become a person that I truly love. I have grown my confidence and expanded my personality. I enjoy my own presence now. Now, I can grow plants! ← If you’d known me prior, that would be a biggie, I had a true black thumb.
I write all of this to say: it’s never too late, it’s never too far gone, and nothing is impossible. If you’re in a bad place, you can get out. You can start over. You can make a new life for yourself. No matter what, always trust your gut. If you’re making a tough decision right now, choose the one that allows you to breathe - to taste the air. Because we only have this one life, and who wants to spend it with a controlling, manipulative, downtalking, terrible partner? It sure as hell isn’t me, anymore!
If you’ve made it this far in my long, rambling blog post: thank you! Here is a free graphic to remind you how awesome YOU are!
If you were one of those that showed up for me when I was a terrible friend: THANK YOU! To my parents: THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCH! Also, David, thank you for loving the pain away. You are truly a saint.
Best,
Amber