Safety

I can’t believe I am going to say that today, December 20th, is my new anniversary, but it is.

It was one year ago today that I had to admit to myself I was in an abusive marriage. In a matter of a few seconds I accepted that I was married to a controlling and manipulative man and I had enabled his behaviour. Over the following 24 hours I came to the decision that I had to get myself out.

Don’t get me wrong. This wasn’t the first time these thoughts had crossed my mind. It was just the first time I didn’t try to convince myself it was just my imagination. That it was ALL my fault. That I was only thinking this because I had a bad opinion of men…as I had been told many times by this very same man.

As I stood there for just a few seconds, looking at his twisted expression on his face so red from trying to keep his temper in check and his rigid stance with his clenched fists, I felt for the very first time that I was about to be hit. I will never know for sure if he would have actually hit me that day, or the next, or the next….but I do know I was not waiting around to find out.

Now there are a few of opinions I can think of that others who are reading this might have. And I understand why these opinions might be held. But I am going to try to explain why I took the route I did…and got out.

I could have stayed because he had never hit me before. I could have given him the benefit of the doubt and continued to live with him for years without ever being struck by him. But you cannot unring a bell as they say. I now felt my physical safety was in jeopardy. It would be another egg shell I would have to walk on.

I could have stayed because he had never hit me before. I could have given him the benefit of the doubt and continued to live with him until he actually hit me. But then I would have been hit. And I would ask why I didn’t leave before being hit. Why did I let it happen?

So. I chose Door #3. I turned without making another sound and left the room. I chose not to speak to him for the rest of the day as I thoughtfully considered my options. I slept in the spare bedroom. And the next morning I told him I was done. I think it was my best option. I didn’t get hit and I hopefully mitigated the risk getting hit in the future. And who knows? Maybe I was wrong and he was never ever going to get to the point of physically abusing me….but I do not believe it was my responsibility to prove this one way or the other. I no longer felt safe. I was responsible to keep myself safe. I did not owe him the chance to prove it one way or the other by keeping myself in that situation.

This brings me to Learning #1. I am not saying this applies to everyone. I can only say it applies to me. If someone else feels it applies to them then that is a good thing. Here it is.

I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR MY OWN SAFETY AND IT IS NOT LESS IMPORTANT THAN ANOTHER’S FEELINGS ABOUT THEMSELVES.

What I mean is, I do not have to offer up my face as a punching bag or my arm as a twig to snap so he can choose whether or not to do it. So he can decide not to hurt me and then tell himself what a good guy he is for not doing it…because others might have. Or worse. He does hurt me and tells himself it was just this once. Then tells me everyone makes mistakes. I shouldn’t hold that against him. That I owe him another chance.

So, today, a year later I sit comfortably in my own home safe and happy in the knowledge that I made the correct decision for me. And with the plan to continue to make the correct decisions for me. Does this sound selfish? Well, it is. And that is another learning for another post.