Isolation
Domestic abuse doesn't always knock at the front door and say, "Hi, I'm Abuse". It creeps up on you quietly after you've invited them in and trusted them with the keys.
Her lover was like a beautiful rose that climbed up her throat, thorns nailing her tongue.
Being with him was like being in a train wreck, a beautiful disaster that only snowballed, picking up debris along the way. Any small deviation from his valued idea of “perfection” only roused his anger, and she was the one to suffer. But it was only natural with the way that he was escalating that he would derail sooner or later, taking their world with him.
And one of those deviations was that she had been a firm believer in the fact that the biggest illusion in life was the illusion of separation, of distance. And that shame and its child–silence–was its keeper. And connection was what kept people grounded. And her resilient groundedness angered him, but he wore her down until he had finally made her doubt her support system and herself, whether they were honest with her, whether she was loved.
And the once vibrant woman became a fragile shell of herself. After she had invited him in and trusted him with the keys to her soul, he stole everything that made her her–a heist of the cruelest kind.
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
Part-time daydreamer. Full-time dork.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. adventure, nostalgia, and other affairs of the heart, and anything else I want to honor and hold space for).
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OF MOTHERHOOD.
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Comments (3)
Yes yes yes!!! Love it!
Felt this in my soul, thank you for being so vulnerable. And also sorry you know the pain well enough to write about it so accurately <3
Ouch!! That was a hard read for me. I have witnessed this sad truth in my life and felt every word of your story.