Titanium
The Archeology of a Divorce
The house is eerily quiet, now. The walls are still echoing with angry words–layers of arguments mingle with a fresh coat of paint. Pieces of fractured seashells and broken glass linger, swept carelessly under the cove base; remnants of a broken dream. I’m here to gather a few personal items. Baby clothes, my purse, a few photographs. All that remains in the aftermath of violent conflict. In my home.
Wearily, with feet that seem to weigh a thousand pounds each, I climb the stairs to the master bedroom. A ceramic doll, hand-cast by my grandmother, lies twisted and broken on the carpet. Face smashed, arms destroyed like it was swung overhead and bashed against the dresser. Up until now, I’ve been numb. Heavy, ponderous and thick–moving like a mummy wrapped in layers of bloody gauze–stumbling toward oblivion.
The broken doll elicits a choked sob from the core of my being. She was the only gift I received for my tenth birthday and her delicate handmade dress and little tights were the most beautiful thing I’d ever owned. I never played with her, unless you count straightening her dress and adjusting her long curls before replacing her on a corner shelf in my bedroom. She is precious and now she is shattered.
Something inside me splinters. I run to the master bathroom and barely slide across the cool tile in time to vomit into the toilet. Sobbing and gagging and wasting a week’s worth of food coupons. I don’t live here anymore. This used to be my sink, that’s where I used to put my shampoo. I bathed my baby in that bathtub, brushed her soft curly hair and listened to her giggle.
I scoop the remains of the doll and with her, the pieces of the life that was, and put her in a plastic bin. I leave her in the walk-in closet, next to broken picture frames and a torn wedding portrait.
The escorting officer is getting impatient. I’ve taken too much of his time. He’s here to ensure my safety, now.
My borrowed jeans are falling down, the hems slipping under my shoes as I make my way to the front door. The one I picked out from Home Depot with the frosted oval glass window. Across the front deck I built, down the gravel driveway, past Baby’s tricycle laying on its side on the grass. I have a free hand to turn it right side up; everything I’m taking with me fits in one small suitcase.
The officer gives me a ride back to the women’s shelter. The temporary orders issued by the judge give me the right to gather personal effects, but that doesn’t include my car.
________________________________________________________
That was seven years ago. Today, because I walked away, my daughter and I are alive. Strong, well-adjusted and healthy, I’ve gone on to grow self-esteem. Climbing mountains and kayaking rivers, exorcising my demons one.step.at.a.time and learning to love and trust again.
When the plywood palace of a carefully constructed dream burns to the ground, three things remain: faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love.
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Titanium writes at She. More Than a Pronoun.
56 Responses to “Titanium”
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I’m aching. Beautiful. And so strong.
Thank you for that.
And congratulations.
I love this and can totally relate. You are such a strong woman.
How amazingly strong and brave you were, to leave the familiar, to leave a “nice home”, to leave the life you knew totally behind. Just like the phoenix, you rose from the ashes to be born again, born again with faith, hope, and love. Prayers for peace and healing.
Thank you so much for sharing here. Cheers to your strength, bravery, and faith.
Peace.
Thank-you for sharing. May you continue to be able to climb any mountain you set your sights on.
Powerful and courageous story. Thanks for sharing.
That was horrible, and beautiful, all at once. So strong you are.
I am so glad that you are okay. You are so brave.
Your child is lucky you were so strong. As are you – to keep fighting through it. Thank you for sharing.
So sorry for your pain, but thank you for sharing your story. It’s the strength of women such as yourself that may provide the courage another woman needs to escape and survive.
You were and are so brave and strong for both you and your daughter. Thank you so much for sharing your story.
Wow, Titanium. Wow. I’m happy you’re in a better place now.
You painted such a complete picture with your words, I feel like I was there with you. I wish I could have been, but we are all here with you now.
Thank you.
So sad. I can identify too. We’d just finished a remodel when I realized being safe meant getting out.
oh my… this was powerful and spoke volumes. i echo Allie and agree that it felt like i was there with you… and yes, like she said too, “we are all here with you now.”
congratulations on your survivorship… to you and your daughter.
Very powerful.
Very well done. Congratulations on escaping the violence.
Beautiful. Haunting and achingly so.
Truly. Felt like I was walking back in that house with you. Thank you for sharing your story. Congratulations for finding the strength and courage you needed to get yourself and your daughter to a better place.
wow. You took my breath away. Keep flying! Your strength is inspiring. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you. Words have never seemed quite so inadequate as right now, as I try to find some, to express how much it means to have your friendship, your support, your words and your companionship in this Life thing.
All these things
That come and go
Are handled best by Hope
That through storm and stillness
Somehow
The better Spirit leads
And from this,
Though we cannot know,
There is deposit for Good.
_____________________
Life is Good.
-Ti
It’s like you took the words my heart has been afraid to speak and put them out there to let me know it’s okay. I cried, because this past fall I was you … except I didn’t get to take my baby with me.
Things are better now, we have help, and we’re trying.
Thank you thank you thank you for telling me it’ll be okay no matter what.
I’ve been wondering what the story was. I ache for what you went through, but I celebrate what you’ve become.
Thank you. Words have never seemed quite so inadequate as right now, as I try to find some, to express how much it means to have your friendship, your support, your companionship in this Life thing.
All these things
That come and go
Are handled best by Hope
That through storm and stillness
Somehow
The better Spirit leads
And from this,
Though we cannot know,
There is deposit for Good.
_________________________
If there’s one thing I can leave with you today, it is this: you are More. We are More, together. Thank you for being here, for reading, for supporting- not just for me, but for every survivor.
For every soul who has lost their voice, has felt completely and utterly alone- there is a place to be Heard. To be understood. Thank you, Maggie. For making this possible.
I have known women who are so tied to the things that they dared not walk away, because they thought the only value in their home was their possessions. That’s how very little they thought of themselves, how far they’d been torn down.
The walk away from what we once considered comfort is terribly hard. Good on you for being bold enough to carry the two most valuable things in that home –you and your daughter– to safety. Thank you for building those things of comfort anew for the two of you. >:o)
Beautiful. Powerful. Heart breaking. Thank you.
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Thank you for sharing. I am truly happy that you and your daughter are alive and healthy.
you are one of the strongest of the strong my dear! your daughter will look up to you! i am so glad you had the courage to not ever return to such a life!
Your strength is inspiring. May you and your daughter find much love.
Wow, it’s difficult to believe that the strong individual that is you today was the woman in the story. Truly inspirational.
So well written – hauntingly, achingly powerful. Your words made me feel like I was walking with you. Your strength and insight are an inspiration.
Thankyou for sharing your strength, and your heartache. xo
Beautiful. Powerful. And so very very true.
I am so sorry this happened to you, but I am also thrilled that you got out. Congratulations!
In the end we find… money, things, possessions, etc. cannot bring happiness or peace or love. So proud of you for stepping away, for taking your sweet baby with you, for making the best life possible for both of you.
Many blessings.
Heartbreaking! Thank you so much for sharing your story of courage and strength. You are living proof that you can change your life around, start over, and find peace in this world. What an awesome role model you are for you daughter!
You did it! How wonderful you are!
That is true bravery.
You had the courage to walk away, to start anew. You were brave. I commend you.
Thank you for speaking out, I grieved as I experienced only a glimpse of the pain you shared through this article, and relate to your comment about exorcising those demons one step at a time. Then to see the conclusion that you reached, I was so moved. “Three things remain: faith, hope and love. The greatest of these is love.”
The things one leaves behind mean so much, but nothing at all compared to what we carry forward. Powerfully written, my friend. Thank you for sharing this small piece of your amazing story . . .
Beautiful. Wrenching. What strength you have.
Wonderful wwriting to bring the point home, painful to read but definately makes a statement! So glad you and your daughter are safe.
What a Strong, strong woman you are! Good for you for getting out! So many people that have never been in the same situation just don’t understand why it’s so hard to do that. And it’s hard to describe it to them. It really takes a lot of strength, faith, and courage. As hard as it is to walk through such negative memories in your house, hopefully you look at it as “good riddance” as well and pat yourself on your back! Thank you for sharing!
Yea for that part of you that walked away. Yea for kayaking and telling those demons to stay away. Yea for being alive. Indeed, love is powerful….
So proud of you and your strength, Titanium.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Thank you so much for sharing. It’s stories like this that let others in the same boat know that it WILL be better. That they WILL survive, and heal, and grow. I am going to let several women know about this website. They need to know!
You are amazing and I’m so glad you and your daughter have lived to see this day.
I’ve been there (recently) and I understand. The ending of your story gives me strength and hope. Thank you.
What a heart-breaking story! Thank you!
Many congrats for your courage to walk away, sparing yourself and your daughter. You exhibited strength and courage that so many in your position for various reasons fail to act on until it is too late. I am so happy to read that you were able to make this choice for yourself and in doing so, did not rob your daughter of a life with her mom. It is difficult to go through what you have endured, and even more difficult to take a stand for yourself! There is a reason my blog is entitled Gentleness and Strength…You are a survivor, hold your head high! Hugs to you…~M
you were so brave to leave.
thank you for sharing.
A warm hello to you Titanium.Thank you for visiting my blog, Image & Verse. I am pleased that you did. Please visit again soon…
The first part of this post you wrote was gut wrenching to read. The honesty put a tear in my eye, and the situation you faced made me deeply sad, and very frustrated at the same time. Bravo to you for your strength and your courage to write this, and to rally your inner strength to walk away, survive, and to begin again to thrive — bravo!
I have been divorced. When love turns inside out it can be ugly. But love does come again. I am now 22 years is a genuine, loving relationship with a very real woman. I send you great respect, and know that love will abide with you now and in the future — and with your daughter.
Peace…
…rob
I have been where you were and are…………I applaud your bravery , I know how hard it was……….I hope you are @ peace now as I am. Thank you for writing your story, I walked through that house with you, your writing is powerful and real..I have long wanted to be able to tell my story, one I have never told……….perhaps with being able to read the stories here, I will someday be able to………….thank you for your courage. May you find blessings and happines.