The shift

TW: mention of aspects of an abusive relationship.

Isn't it funny how you can be having the most groundbreaking, life-changing earth-quaking moment while it is not apparent to anyone around you?

OXFORD CIRCUS

A Saturday morning in September. She walks up the station stairs, which pour out hundreds of people from the four exits symmetrically located on each street on the crossroad of London's most famous shopping destination. London is busier than ever, bustling with life and buzz and movement.

The late summer turning into autumn brings a sense of a lost romance, reflecting her grief and honour of a rebirth. The sky is bright though filled with gloomy clouds; iconic British rainfall is imminent. The distant trees are dressed in their autumn leaves. Stunning reds look somehow more striking and alive than a summer green, just before they become bare for winter months.

I walk to the traffic light, press the button and wait to cross. There are so many people here, of every description. The roads lined with cars, fleets of red buses and taxis, moving seamlessly and allowing the traffic lights to conduct the West End like a slow, cadenced ballet. I feel like I have just stepped back into the real world. I feel liberated.

*The pedestrian light turns green*

I exhale. I can't seem to move. I am mesmerised by the intensity of this feeling. This may be the most important new beginning for me. The weight of his control has ended. And in this polluted, traffic dense crossroad, I feel like I can finally breathe. For the first time in years. I can really breathe.

A mother sighs in relief, her baby has finally fallen into a deep sleep after almost 24 consecutive hours of almost constant wailing. She clutches her coffee cup like a lifeline and proceeds to cross the road. The most restless road in the city seemed to be the right kind of white noise for her little one.

I watch passersby get on as I stand paralysed. How could this have happened to me? Why did I stay so long? Why had the red flags look so rosy before? Do I report him? Do I have it in me? How is it that I could be broken so many times and now feel so invincible?

An investment banker strides through the crowd. He's tall and confident, but if one were to take notice, he's rigid and suppressing shakes. Today is the first day that he's off the cocaine. He's trying to oust the urge and stay occupied with a little retail therapy, off to Savile Row to be fitted for new suits.

I am safe. I am free. He no longer has a hold over me.

It begins to rain. It's pouring down and cars begin to turn on their windscreen wipers. And the crowd clamours for shade under shops. Some go for the newsstand and use newspapers as make-do shades.

A successful Chinese entrepreneur walks past with her handsome assistant, who is fast to flash up an Hermés umbrella up over the pair. She wore Chanel from head to toe, only diluted with vintage expertly sourced gemstones that adorn her. She built an empire from not much and is here to expand her designer handbag collection.

I am worthy. My body is mine. I am not to blame.

A newly single dad shuffles anxiously, his daughters have a costume day at school next week. Elsa's dress has to be the perfect blue and finding the right clothes for a snowman's costume is harder than it seems. His wife used to take care of these things.

I am free. I am free. I am free.