An open letter to my abuser.

by Cristina

Dear B,

I loved you with everything I had. I'm just starting off with that. Despite it all, I loved you. But unfortunately, that is often not enough.

We were both young with demons that we let get the best of us. We were never right for each other, but it felt too good to stop. Until being together ceased feeling so good. Until the stress, the fighting, and the tears overcame us. Until reality hit (literally). It had to happen eventually I suppose, but if I could do anything, it would be to spare you of my hurt in hopes that you would spare me of yours. We shook hands with our demons instead of fighting them away; we welcomed them. That was a mistake.

I thought I could take on your problems and that you could take on mine. In reality, we couldn't even handle our own by ourselves. If someone wants to abuse drugs, you can't stop them. If someone is a player, you can't stop them from talking to other girls. If someone is aggressive, you can't make them gentle. You can't change people, but that didn't stop me from trying.

I shouldn't have gotten involved, I should have read the signs and left. But again, I didn't. And you took advantage of that. I may not have been perfect, but who is? I never stopped trying until you went too far. Every lie you told, I forgave you. Every time you wanted to fix it, I let you. Even after the first time you laid your hands on me, I still kept trying. You remember that, don't you? You made me believe that if I had just dropped it, you wouldn't have hit me. And I agreed with you. I told you that it was okay, I understood, and I knew you wouldn't do it again. But of course, you did. And of course, I let you.

I allowed you to have that control over me and I couldn't be more regretful. But the day I took that control back was the best day of my life. Despite being choked and getting knocked out from you punching my head and my ribs bruised and my five-year-old seeing it all, despite all of that, it was the best day of my life. It was the day I became truly free. Although while sitting in the hospital alone, scared that I was gonna lose my daughter forever and unsure of the future I felt free. Almost 6 years worth of garbage was finally taken out, how liberating. So for that, I thank you. I became a better, stronger person because of it. I'm eternally grateful for that.

What I despise is the fact that while I was freed from you as a person, I wasn't released from the way you made me feel. In fact, I was imprisoned by it. You treated me as if I was a pet you were entitled to own. My entire self-esteem was in the palm of your hand, and you didn't hesitate to hold it out and clench a fist. I haven't quite been able to shake that feeling. I still have terrible nightmares and wake you thinking they are real. You said you loved me, but you still hurt me, emotionally and physically. I am officially cutting all ties, you no longer have the ability to control me without even trying.

The day at the motel room, I took back control of my body. But today I am taking back control of my mind, my life. Thank you for teaching me all the lessons you did, I genuinely mean that. And thank you for making me so much stronger, and knowing what I deserve. Thank you for making me see my daughter does not deserve to have that life anymore.

P.s. I'm 39 days clean today, hard to believe, isn't it? I'm getting my life back, and I'm killing it!

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