It’s hard to put into words what it feels like when you finally escape the grip of an abuser after decades. For 30 years, I lived in a state of tension — shrinking myself to avoid criticism, bracing for the next outburst, second-guessing every word, every action.
And then suddenly… silence.
Not the heavy, suffocating silence of control.
But the peaceful kind. The kind that feels like oxygen returning to your lungs.
For the first time in decades, I can:
- Drive home without road rage or fear. No more lectures in the passenger seat, no more tension the second I pull into the driveway.
- Walk through my own front door without bracing for anger. No complaints, no insults waiting to greet me. Just space.
- Sit in the evening with my beloved dog, glass of wine in hand, and relax. No lectures. No attacks. No walking on eggshells.
I had forgotten what it felt like to be me. Not the diminished, edited version of myself shaped by years of manipulation and cruelty. But the real me — free, relaxed, comfortable in my own skin.
The past few days have reminded me: I am still here. I survived. I can smile, breathe, and live again.
To anyone still trapped in that cage: your freedom may feel far away, but it’s waiting. And when you finally step into it, you’ll be shocked at how quickly your soul remembers who you were before the abuse.
✨ Peace isn’t just possible. It’s your birthright. ✨
