Survival of the Fittest

Surviving my first was expensive but empowering. 

Surviving my second almost ended me. 

It wasn’t the financial ruin he actively attempted, though that could have been enough. It wasn’t the social ruin he felt he could impose. It was the internal shame he set off. It was replaying the red flags, knowing that I should have acknowledged them well before we married. It was knowing that I had felt the breeze from those red flags, heard the whump of snapping fabric as the winds of ‘holy shit, what did he just say/do to you?’ raged around me.

After leaving, after counseling, after building up my strength and finally standing proudly on my own, I stopped questioning myself, and instead began asking: 

     Why did HE do this, why did HE treat me this way, why did HE feel it was acceptable to lie and steal and bully, why didn’t THEY believe ME?

I became a survivor. 

I chose this path. 

I didn’t quit. 

I didn’t drive my car off that curved section of highway into the solid bulk of that ancient oak. 

Surviving my first prepared me for what came next. 

Surviving the second showed me I am able to dig deeper, find my truest, strongest self. It brought me to who and where I am now. 

It’s helped me help others, to prove with my very existence that there is an after, an after filled with light and love and joy and yes, grief and heartbreak, but that it is worth it. It is all worth it.