I see you sitting there on the deck hugging your knees, a blanket around your shoulders. I see you chain smoking, your mascara running down your face in a river of tears, your hands shaking and your headaches.
The police have left, your parents have left, you are home from the hospital. He’s in jail, at least for the night. Alone on the deck, your babies are asleep in their beds. You wonder how much this will affect them. Will they remember? They are so young; what will you tell them? As you bury your head in your hands, I can see your too-thin body shaking with fear, with anxiety, doubts swirling around in your mind like so many black clouds. As with so many nights before, you will not sleep tonight.
I am sitting beside you, even though you can’t feel me or see me. My arms are around you and I am whispering strength and love into your ear. Please know that you didn’t bring abuse on yourself. The cruel words and bruises you carefully cover with makeup are the work of someone who has deep wounds himself. Your husband who speaks love out of the same mouth that calls you vile names, whose hands hold you tenderly and then viciously strike you, tossing your body like a rag doll is responsible. You both bear scars from childhood trauma, from parents who love you in their best yet broken way. Forgive them; you all have a long way to go before this chapter is over.
Tomorrow you will go to file a restraining order; he will be served with papers before he is released. You will go to court, the order will be granted, and you will not look at him again for a year. Take a deep breath; you will find the courage to get through this. People will watch you, not knowing how to help. Their generation was one that kept this kind of thing secret. Your friends will offer prayers on your behalf, but not one will speak the supportive words you long to hear, nor will they offer a safe place to rest. Please don’t take this as not loving you, they do.
The two of you will divorce and raise your children together in a loving and supportive way. Your children will know the love of a bonus mom; she’s amazing. You will have no regrets, many experiences, and understand that healing is a lifelong journey.
Dry your tears, get some rest. Allow yourself to have a happy life; know that you are not only good enough, but you are also amazing.