Sara
It’s something I don’t talk about often. It’s something that’s affected me tremendously and made me who I am today, something that I’m still trying to get over today. It causes me to immediately tense up when I think about it; it’s the reason I put a wall up between my husband and me. It’s the reason I don’t feel worthy of his love, of the love of a man so nice and kind, a man with my best interest at heart. For a long time I tried to play it down, to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal, until therapy forced me to confront it and admit out loud what I knew all along.
Part of the reason I think I’ve been so reluctant to face the truth is because I feel, or felt, like it must be my fault. When my first two long-term relationships became abusive, what did they have in common? Me. So I punished myself. I still am. I still don’t feel good enough, smart enough, or pretty enough, not for me or for anyone else. I can still vividly remember those nights, the one when he called me a bitch and dripped his own blood on me then tried to rape me, and the one when the other bashed my head against the bathroom floor repeatedly. I’ve tried to pretend like these two nights haven’t impacted me; that I’m over it; that that’s not the real reason I have these emotional scars and I’m just waiting for a similar situation to happen with my husband. I pretend I’m okay, that I trust him, but I don’t. I want to, badly. I don’t understand why he’s with me or why he loves me; how can he love someone like me? I want him to just admit the truth, that I’m unlovable, not good enough. The way the others made me feel.
Sometimes I cry and wonder what’s wrong with me; I’m wasting my life worrying about a tragedy that has yet to occur. Sometimes I try to sabotage the relationship so he’ll just leave now and we can get this over with. But he won’t. I don’t know why, why he wants to be with me, but he does. I just don’t know when or how I can trust him, the one who’s done nothing wrong, yet who is paying for the actions of others who have hurt me. I can’t bear to hurt him like this yet I can’t stop. I’m hurting inside all the time, and I don’t think he understands that. How can he? I don’t talk about it. I want to seem okay. I don’t want to seem needy, or weak. I don’t want to freak out over every little thing, over even the slightest hint of anything or anyone threatening our relationship. But I do. Even if it’s not always transparent, on the inside, I do.
Sometimes I feel as if I’m hanging by a thread. I’m so emotionally fragile, I could break any time. I can’t expect him to understand this. I just want my life back.
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Sara is is a columnist in Delphos, Ohio.
27 Responses to “Sara”
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sara- my thoughts are with you. by posting this piece, you’re beginning to gain your life back. unfortunately pieces of our past, even the ugliest ones, are part of what make us who we are… survivors.
trust is not easy. acceptance is not easy. comprehending unconditional love is not easy. but that does not mean it’s not there.
i wish you peace in your continued survivorship. thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing, my thoughts and prayers are with you as you heal.
When I read the stories here of survivors, I often sit for a very long time, wondering what I can say that sounds supportive and helpful; most often I have a hard time coming up with anything besides thanks for sharing.
See, because in sharing, we begin to heal. We realize we are not alone in this fight to feel normal.
So Sara, thanks for sharing. I hope that by doing so you are able to let go of a little bit of the pain and begin trusting yourself and others again. xo
You’re not alone. Within each one of us there is a little of you; I hold the same insecurities, the same fears, the same sense of unworthiness. The truth is, we do deserve to be loved, to be cherished, to be happy.
In reaching out, in speaking out, you will find that there is strength in numbers. That there is hope for the future, and that we care.
Thank you for writing. For laying it on the line so that others may find their voice.
Yes. You could break at any time.
But just through your words, it is so obvious that you are so much stronger than you realise. You have been through and are currently experiencing so much. And through your expression will come healing.
You’ve come this far on your dark journey. I honestly believe that you can make the rest.
Thank you so much for sharing.
Sara,
I love you so much and you have made my life so much better for the living. Thank you for being brave and sharing your story — by doing so you are showing your girls (and all of us) how bravery and grace are one in the same. We need to see each other very soon, pretty lady.
Unfortunately the worst damage of abuse is rarely the physical (even when that’s horrific)–it’s the emotional damage that is the true violence. Because even when that person is no longer in our lives, their damage continues in us. The wounds do not always heal. The scars do not always fade. Time sometimes makes things worse, not better.
That whole “I’m not good enough” thing? That is so NORMAL for survivors of abuse that it’s sickening. I have it, absolutely. Most survivors do. And it takes time, patience, and practice to start overcoming that thinking and start loving yourself. And until you love yourself, you will never truly believe that anyone else can love you too.
I wish I had a magic wand to wave.
((((hugs))))
Sending you love and light.
It can be hard to work through trust issues. I still haven’t told my husband the full story. And I don’t know when I’ll be able to.
It’s hard to accept that we’re *worth* loving.
But we are. YOU are.
Thank you for sharing
Thank you for being so brave today. You are not alone. You are valuable, and loved. Allow yourself to take that love in.
Sara,
You are 100% not guilty for the violence that was visited upon you by two different men.
Those men are 100% guilty for what they did to you.
There is nothing that you could have done to justify a man beating your head on a bathroom floor, or dripping his blood on you and attempting to rape you. Their actions are not a reflection on you, they are a reflection of those two men.
I am glad to read that you are in therapy, and I cannot encourage you enough to continue therapy.
Thank you for sharing you story here.
Sara, you are lovable. And you deserve to be loved and treated with dignity and respect. The violence done to you was not your fault. There is no shame in being a victim.
Sara, thank you for sharing here.
I would like to say there is nothing wrong with you. You are absolutely good enough. You are not needy or weak. And you are not as fragile as you think you are.
You might not feel okay, but you ARE worthy, and you are loved.
Keep your chin up, friend. Sending you peace across the miles.
I’ve read. I’m witness to your story. And I hope that you begin to trust, when it’s right for you. Accept the love of the people who offer it, again, when it’s right for you. Thank you for taking the step to share your story!
None of it was your fault, and you are SO worthy of love!!! Thank you for sharing your story. I wish you peace and healing.
Thinking of you and sending thoughts of strength. Lots of strength. xo
At times like this I wish I knew more words. Actually, I just wish I knew the right words. But the thing is you already know the right words. They’re the ones you wouldn’t quite let yourself use when you wrote your story. But you know. You know you’re good enough, pretty enough, lovable enough worthy enough. Down in that place where you know stuff, you know this to be true. You know that nobody asks to be abused. You know that you didn’t bring this upon yourself. and you know yo’re paying interest on a bill that hasn’t come due yet.
You also know that you’re still afraid, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, still waiting to be betrayed yet again. But it sounds like — from what you say — that your husband already knows most of the things you haven’t spoken of. Not the details maybe, but he knows. I can’t say that with certitude not knowing the man, but from everything you say that’s the feeling I get.
So answer this question — not for me, but for yourself. What is the worst thing that could happen if you told him everything, every little detail in Technicolor and Dolby 5.1 Surround Sound? If he is the man you describe here, then he’ll be your best asset, your biggest ally as you fight to regain yourself. And if he’s not? If he turns away in horror? If he scorns you or blames you or turns his back on you?
If he does that, then he is not worthy of you.
Read that last one again.
You see Sara, we all have our flaws. You, me, your husband, everyone. But they do not make us “unworthy” or “unlovable”. They simply make us human. And I think that once you stop holding back, you’ll figure out whether or not the thing that’s been scaring you to death is really a monster, or just a pile of laundry on the chair in the corner. You’ll know, because you will have turned on the lights to see what it is rather than continuing to imagine what it is and letting that imagining grow into a perceived reality.
And it’s only a hunch, but I think that once you’ve unburdened yourself from the secret you think you’re keeping, you will feel a lot better. Even if everything falls apart you’ll no longer be kept by the secrets. Because that’s what happens. You don’t keep secrets, they keep you.
There’s life on the other side of abuse Sara, all you have to do is get there. And from everything you’ve said, you have the advantage of someone who will help you get there. And if that turns out to be wrong? You still have us, Sara. This community, these people, will be here. I will be here. For you, and for all the other Sara’s that need it, I will be here to offer whatever I have. And I would expect you’ll hear the same from just about everyone else here. That’s what I get from the comments I’ve read above me.
Take these comments, these words of support, print them out and put them in a place where you can pull them out and read them when you feel that thread you’re hanging by straining to the breaking point. And if that’s not enough, I’m only an email away. And others will tell you the same.
You are not alone. And you don’t have to live this way.
Much love.
Thank you for having the courage to survive, to keep surviving and for sharing your story.
I was in a similar situation… a lot of problems with previous relationships and then finding Mr. Right, whom I kept expecting to turn on me like every one else. But I was totally honest and up front with him about why I snap, why I cry seemingly for no reason, why I get frustrated and lose my temper, why I’m so paranoid jealous about online relationships. I didn’t think he would understand, but he does. He lets me read over his shoulder whenever I want, he has absolutely nothing to hide, and he doesn’t take it personally when I snap at him because of something else. It took a few years to get my trust to the point it is now, and a lot of hard work, but it CAN be done, and I believe you can do it too. There’s a lot of good advice in some of these comments, and I hope you can make the best of it. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
You know what, Sara? I’ve been reading this blog about once a week or so for a few months since I found it. The stories here, like yours, are stories of horror and stories of unbelievable strength and bravery, stories of survival. And it could be so easy to read through this site and despair of men, to want to curl up and protect yourself from all of them, indiscriminately. I’ve never experienced what you or the other women on this site have experienced, but I can understand the impulse to self-preservation, and to question yourself and your own worth.
But your story has this other thread that runs through so many of the other ones here. There’s a good man in your life, and you can’t imagine how he could love someone as broken as you perceive yourself to be. So many good men out there who aren’t afraid to help pick up the pieces that other men left scattered and broken. It really is heartening, to me at least. I hope that as you heal, as you begin to trust yourself again, that you can trust in the hope and happiness your husband can bring you. Because you really are worth it, and it was never your fault.
I know how you feel, I had a friend who jumped out of the 9th floor window. She was beautiful and I always wanted to be her.
Saying the grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence is a no brainer, still, it’s true.
Sara, you are not alone. You ARE lovable, worthy and good enough. Always remember that.
I feel your pain…but you won’t break. You are strong. And although he might not understand, I pray he will comfort you and give you the space you need to heal.
I learned about this site months ago. I clicked, and then ran away. I’ve done that a few times now. Skipping over this site the same way I skip over the memories and the situation I find myself in now.
I am on my number 2 abusive relationship. The first was physical, the current it emotional warfare. It hasn’t once been physical. But it has been deeply emotional in the most insidious way. A game that is constantly denied as a game. He is a shadow, a ninja sniper.
And I am in that place Sara, that place of feeling like I am the common denominator. That I must be so inherently flawed as to not be lovable. That this is somehow all my fault. I can see it so clearly, when I read your words, or the words of others, how it isn’t any of your fault, but I can’t get there for myself.
I will lay awake tonight, trying to find the courage I need to see this as clearly for myself. There is fear in leaving, but there is also fear that it really is me, and that no one anywhere will ever find me pretty enough, smart enough, or generally worthy of love and respect.
I can understand why your mind cannot accept the love it is being given. Keep trying.
Sara, There are quite a few outstanding comments above. Everything from “Thank you for sharing” to “You are worthy”. You are worthy. You didn’t deserve the bad things that happened. I think you recognize that you might unwittingly sabotage the relationship you’re in – it sounds like you’re in a good one now. Have you shared this post with your husband? I’d wager that he would appreciate the peek into what’s going on inside of your beautiful soul. Peace, sister. You’re in my prayers. It takes tremendous strength to be a survivor and to emerge as a victor. Bless you for sharing your story.
sara, you gotta take that risk once more and be open with your husband… without faith, theres nothing and trust me… if he loves you even iota of how much you say, he does…. he will understand and stand by you…. if not then you would know better, right!
my love and prayers with you!
I recognize myself in what you say.