I’ve written you a lot of letters over the years. Tender love letters and exalted poetry… but none quite like this one. You once told me you didn’t want me to write you anymore letters anyway, because “they meant nothing to you.” Here’s a final letter to you. I’ll skip the pleasantries of prefacing this letter with a ‘Hello’ or ‘Hi’ and get right to the heart of it. Afterall, being nice didn’t augment any situation I found myself in with you…..
It is hard to put into words all that you put me through. This letter is, I know, another potentially vain attempt to master the chaotic pain within me that has a healing trajectory that is zig-zagged rather than linear. Just when I think I’m gracefully treading water and swimming effortlessly, the tide comes and buries my body under the waves and I choke. The salt water burns my throat and I start gasping and inhaling more and more ocean liquid until I begin drowning once again – deep within the complex multi-layers beneath the surface of the trauma that appears so straight-forward and understandable upon a cursory glimpse…. It is not.
It feels like a different life-time doesn’t it? A life-time that I sometimes yearn for so much it hurts… so much that I would rather die than not return to that life-time… so much that I yell at the sky: “Take my heart… rip it out, please – I beg you!”
This mind regularly transports me back to a day and time when I sat in the sauna alone and at peace at our first meeting place. I was accompanied by my book titled ‘When Things Fall Apart’ by Pema Chodron, and I was a young woman in her early 20s who had just returned from a yoga retreat in Mexico and adventures in South America. This young woman was bursting at the seams with a love for life and everything and everyone in it…. An adventurous spirit that excited anyone who was in her vicinity… a strong presence…. an incessant helper… she possessed a relentless listening ear that never faltered. Oh to be able to rewind the clock back.. back to when you walked into the same rectangular shaped, hot room and that singular moment that changed all the following ones forever. Those eyes- oh my- the most sumptuous intermingling of a unique nuance of bright blue and speckles of forest green within your irises. Charm and intellect unparalleled. A muscular and chiseled physique worthy of being on displayed on billboards. Our conversations were chalked full of riveting material. My mind was the first thing you seduced. Then my body. You fucked me hard when I wanted to be fucked, but you also knew how to make sensual love to me with passionate devotion and a silky softness. You always took your sweet time and incorporated adventure. Honey, whipped cream, chocolate, fresh fruit… experimentation was the name of our game. Never before had I experienced someone pleasure me orally for over an hour without expecting anything in return. Almost every sexual encounter left me in a speechless state of euphoria.
Little did I know, each time we had sex, the hole leading to my unraveling was being dug deeper.
What I didn’t realize is that you wanted me to rescue you and not only that, you saw something I had that you craved for yourself. So you latched on to me like a blood-sucking leech and slowly, gradually, over months and years… you drained my life force until there was nothing left and all I could do was lay in bed completely listless, afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to do just about anything….
You showered me with love and affection. Wooed me with poetic prose and talks of tantric love-making and ‘conscious’ relationships. At first. “I just know that our old souls were lovers in a past-life… I’m so grateful we’ve found eachother again,” you whispered in my ear as you held me with such reverence after we made such passionate love I didn’t know where my body started and yours began. I had never felt such safety. And then came the gifts… oh the gifts. Resplendent they were, and the types of items you knew I would love yet wasn’t willing to buy for myself. You put me on the highest of pedestals. For a time. And then…. Once I was groomed and invested and head over heels in love with every part of you…. By the time I had memorized where every line in your face was and how it twisted and turned and coalesced with all the others because I loved waking up next you in the mornings and gazing at you asleep while I’d lovingly study your face… every pore, every eyelash… with a smile of adoration on my face before I’d get up to make your coffee just the way you liked it and warm the massage oil so it’d be ready for me to lather your body with when you woke up….
Then – everything changed. I didn’t know it. Until it was seemingly too late. When people ask me the question, and they often do, “When did you notice he was abusive?” …I don’t know how to answer, because the truth is ~ I don’t quite remember. 1 year, 2 years, 3 years, almost 4…. there was one night somewhere along the way… I was trying to fall asleep with my head on the chest of the man I was madly in love with like I always had, and it felt like my ear was pressed against a barely beating, ice cold heart belonging to a dangerous stranger I hardly knew. The monster seemed to appear out of nowhere and he was never satisfied from then on.
I’d be lying if I said there haven’t been times in which I wished you would go through the pain and horrendous struggle you put me through, but really I know there’s no way I’d want another soul to go through it. I always believed you were something more than you appear to be. But you continued taking advantage of my innocence until eventually, you destroyed it completely.
You thought you were powerful because you played the role of an attacker? You thought I was weak because I played a victim? The truth is, your ‘victim’ is always superior to you. I’m not the first woman to attest to this whose body, mind, and heart you scarred.
I would also be lying if I told you I never thought about revenge. My mind wandered but my demons never got the better of me. Maybe I knew I was simply too muscularly incomparable to retaliate, or maybe I was too wise. I knew that if I were to sink to your level, you and I would be no different. One thing I’ve known for a long time is that I never want to become a reflection of you.
I’ve wondered to myself, “do people always do these things to the ones they love?” I’ve thought that maybe I just don’t know enough about love.
“If you hadn’t made me so angry, I wouldn’t have kicked you or said those things,” you’d say. You would always make an excuse. Over time, I started to believe the fault was in me. Dozens of our conversations, if they can even be referred to as such, because it was nearly always your voice that was echoing in the room – are ingrained in my mind with a crystalline clarity that astounds me. That I try so fucking hard to erase, mostly to no avail. Why must permanent marker have been the media that was selected?
Right now, I choose to stop blaming myself. There is nothing I said or did that made it okay for you to hurt me with your words or throw your fists into walls and shake me with brute force. I am not an excuse for your incapability to control your emotions. I am not the cause of your outbursts. I am not your rage or your hate. I am not your false pride or fragile ego. I am not the weakness you always claimed to see in me. I am not the names you called me.
You don’t define me. I define myself. I am so much more than the words you imprinted in my mind. I am joy. I am hope. I am forgiveness. I am the person others appreciate having around because I exude laughter and love – I am not the person “everyone hates and wishes were dead.”
I hope the scars on my heart heal faster than the ones in my psyche. As for the wounds within you? Whatever caused them, I hope they heal even faster than mine. And when that day comes, I will be so long-gone from your life and it will be too late to reach out to me to tell me that you’re sorry. You will never find me. You will never lay your hands on me again.
You would like to cut my arteries with your words with the sharpest razor-blade you can find and watch me bleed out. You would like to make me sad even if I am happy. You would like to make me question my reality and purpose. Baby, all this is well known to me.
Do you remember all those times when you were silent for days? Now I know it was one of your myriad ways of punishing me. Or in contrast, all those times you screamed so loud in my ears that I’d wonder if someday I’d go deaf and was regularly wiping saliva off my eyelids and cheeks… And for what? Loving you so deeply that it scared the living shit out of you? For being ‘too much?’ For being a ‘woman’ – a member of the gender that you openly proclaimed your disgust and seething feelings toward because “we are weak and sensitive and petty and dishonest and just looking to fuck every good looking man that walks.” All those times I cancelled plans with friends and family because I “cared about them more than you” or the times I would change my outfit over and over because “I looked too sexy and you were worried about me being bait for another man.”
I was afraid to talk in front of you because everything I have ever said was wrong in your eyes. So I started waiting to talk, or ceasing to talk altogether, until you approached me first… To tell me another lie again. That I am the best thing that ever happened to you. That I am your dream partner. That you are so thankful I am the mother of your child. That I must know that you love me so much. 20 minutes after you threw glass objects at me from across the room.
You never said the words: ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘I’m sorry.’ You weren’t there the morning after I birthed our baby. Instead you left she and I alone in an RV in the wilderness and took my car and wallet without telling me at 3AM to go do what you felt was more important. Were my opinions or desires ever taken into account? Now I know how a narcissistic socio-psychopath behaves.
You made me feel crazy even though I was sane. Made me question my basic identity… events that happened that I remembered, that others recalled—they magically didn’t exist or ever occur according to you when I brought them up. You would strive with utter tenacity to make me feel insecure even if I was confident within myself and satisfied with my life’s path. How you loved the feeling of a false sense of power that would wash over you whenever I felt inferior.
Back then, you could have cuddled with me, you could have raped me one more time, hell you could’ve killed me like you said you would—but really, it all got to the point where every word out of your mouth sounded the same to me. Your eyes spewed lava. In my weakest moments, I’d cry and say, “There’s so much hatred in your eyes, baby… What happened to our love?” Every interaction felt like daggers of hatred were piercing my heart, even during the occasions when you would muster up the audacity to say the words, “I love you, ” …all I felt was hollowness. There is no mercy for you anymore. A force of divinity that exists in all of Creation, including me, is holding my hand and lovingly caressing every. single. inch. of my body tonight, and this survivor is holding the sword that you once carried. She is ready to once and for all, throw the cool metal object on the ground and walk towards her future. Yet she knows this isn’t a one day voyage, or even a year-long one – it will be a lifelong journey of reclaiming her truest self and personal power.
Yet, I must say… my time with you taught me so much and largely molded me into the woman and mother I am proud of today.
Thank you for helping me find the voice that was always there but hadn’t yet been fully discovered, owned, and put to solid use.
Thank you for teaching me about what love is and is not. For teaching me that the most important relationship I will ever foster is the one with myself.
Thank you for showing me that accountability and honesty are the some of the best allies.
Thank you for teaching me that actions speak louder than words. Always. Thank you for showing me who I do not want to be and the ways in which I do not and will not ever show up in this world.
Thank you for showing me how I do not and will not treat others.
Thank you for throwing gasoline on the fire within me that was present, but only gently flickering before – then ignited into a raging inferno – and is now a powerful force which I am able to channel into the manifestation of my dreams and realization of my gifts.
Thank you for helping me to illuminate the parts of myself that had been playing small and were buried under unrealistic expectations and Disney-inspired ideas of romance.
Thank you for helping me to realize that my worth as a human and woman is not evidenced by what you or anyone else on this planet thinks of me, but by my heart and my Spirit, by my actions as a human being. I need only be good enough for myself, and even when I tell myself I’m not, it’s still a lie.
My heart is forever changed from this journey… from the immense pain I experienced during our time spent together. I am told by the woman looking back at me in the mirror each morning and night, ‘you have a greater capacity to love now… to love yourself, and for that love to ripple out and cast a domino effect on the world.’ I smile as I feel the truth emanating from her message… I know it’s just the beginning as I recover the parts of me that I shed for your approval and in the process, I continue to discover parts of myself I didn’t know existed. The wholesomeness and growth are almost tangible and bring peace to this heart.
Without you… I never would have known how strong I was, because there may not have ever come a time when being SO.FUCKING.STRONG was the only choice I had left. I wouldn’t have realized that what you once deemed a weakness and flaw was actually a heart-resounding and beautiful ability to be vulnerable…. my sensitivity a strength and diamond in the rough.
Because of you, I know how to roar. I am once again uncovering a respect and love for myself that is even deeper than it was before you came into my life all those years ago. I know who I am and who I am not. Because of you, I know that no-one can ‘steal’ or stomp on my heart again without my permission. Because of you, I will never again shine less bright because it makes the person I’m around uncomfortable… never again will I abandon myself for another… never again will I silence my voice. I’ll be damned if I ever hesitate to use the word ‘NO’ again.
While a part of me feels such disdain and contempt toward you for what it feels like you stole from me – a sweet, gentle innocence, and a ripe fascination with all of life – at least I know how to fight for my happiness and peace now. And I know that no matter where life leads from here, I will make it. I will survive, because I survived you and no amount of turbulence in the next storm could ever compare to what I weathered with you.
When I pump my brakes now and look back, I admire how strong I was, but you know, even the strongest women get tired eventually. I did. The lack of love, respect, kindness, appreciation, and willingness in the man we love to actually SHOW UP in the relationship ends up feeling like tight shackles on our ankles.
By the time you were done injuring me on every level, I truly felt I had no reason to live.
I did manage to find ONE, and that reason was our child who deserved to grow up in an environment without violence – who deserved to feel safe and loved, so I chose an existence without you.
That decision was the best decision of my life.
I once thought that grief and love are sides of the same coin. I still believe this. I believe this because when I left you, it felt like I was dying, and mourning the death of the person I planned on sharing my life with until my last breath. I cried buckets of tears and grieved for months. My stomach wouldn’t hold any food down without throwing it back up. My body felt like a bag of led weights in my bed. The physical manifestations were undoubtedly a powerful testament to the enduring love I had for you.
I do the best I can to pray for you, even when my heart is so rigid that there is no elasticity in its chambers and blood feels like it’s not reaching my extremities in the amounts it needs to. Today, and every day, I do my best to forgive you, because today and every day, I want to be free.
May you find the light that is locked away somewhere deep within you, rather than stealing it from others and preying on the feminine because she possesses a graceful strength that you yearn for within yourself.
Signed,
Your Ex-Lover & The Woman Whose Life You Changed Forever