No, I am not gay. (And despite the fact that I am a Christian, I have no problems with who people decide to love. I know some amazing people who fall in the spectrum of LGBT.) But talking about abuse seems like something so many want to sweep under the rug, to hide like a skeleton in the closet. And I’m going to be damned if I sit in silence any longer.
This was a painful and emotional weekend.
As part of my protection order, my lawyer suggested it might save us money if we wrote a way into the contact order to contact one another outside of lawyers. At the time the judge made it clear, that the e-mail option we chose, was not to be used in a threatening way. However, my ex has been growing more and more comfortable with it, and I shut it down on Sunday.
Here he is, in our home, with our car, having me pay half the mortgage for nearly 3 months now, barely inconvenienced – while I am borrowing rides, working out carpools with strangers, riding the bus, reliant on others. I’ve barely taken anything from the house. Some personal property, and three shelves. The crock pot. Candle stuff.
Then he started making subtle threats, and trying to intimidate me by saying we need to list everything I’ve taken. Including… some handmade furniture from my grandfather, which has no value to anyone but me. And my wedding ring, which belonged to my mother and grandmother. (Honestly, I’ve taken nothing of value besides a game system – and left many electronics and the full kitchen pretty much still in the home.)
So I confronted him back, and told him I hope he discusses those things with his lawyer, as I think he will find it very, very enlightening. He attempted guilt tripping, manipulation, subtle threats. Fortunately for me, I am more than happy for him to tell people everything he said to me. I have been above-board and straightforward about everything, and I’m not ashamed for anything I’ve done to be made public. Honestly, I think if he tries to do anything he will be harming himself and not me at all.
And I cut off the e-mails.
But despite those minor successes, I was an emotional mess. Up until now, so long as things remained civil, I told most folks only that we were separating and I did not want to put them in an awkward situation.
Monday, I decided that I wouldn’t go into detail, but that I was done hiding. I came out on Facebook, keeping it as short and sweet as I could.
I shared that there were times I feared for my life. I shared that it was a verbally and emotionally abusive relationship. I shared that I am frustrated and angry, and that I refuse to be ashamed for trying to make it work so long. I refuse to be ashamed for leaving. And I refuse to be silent and perpetuate the idea that it is necessary to close doors that hides those skeletons.
If I keep saying it, maybe I will believe it.
And I’m not going to post the drama on facebook anymore, as I don’t want to make people uncomfortable with stupid details. But I’m also not going to be ashamed of revealing the truth. I’m not going to pretend I am ok when I am not.