A Snippet From My Memior - Chapter 6 I stood in the middle of our bedroom, staring at the stuff on the wall. My husband had just called to tell me he was leaving—five months shy of our 18-year wedding anniversary. Eighteen years with my best friend, and he was telling me he wasn’t coming back home. He had left for work to Ohio three weeks ago. At home in Florida, I stared at the stuff on the wall—our stuff—and for a moment, I got lost in it. There was a picture of our family,

I wrote this after my marriage of 17 years abruptly came to an end. Through the next year I began to create a space for myself. Not just...

Dear Gentle Reader, Everything in me wanted to start this letter off apologizing for not protecting you. But as I’m unearthing the layers and strata of my life I realize that we can no longer carry this burden of fault. To unearth something can be harrowing. And I know you feel scared and vulnerable and ashamed and alone and tired and unloved and confused and naked and exposed and I know that the fear you feel is because you felt those same exact things when you were being

My abuser has been dead for several years, but the fear he instilled in me allowed him to stay with me long after he was gone. It wasn’t the act of forgiving my abuser that tormented me; it was forgiving myself for the scars I had to confront every day, both inside and out. These scars were not just physical reminders of his violence, but emotional and mental chains that kept me tied to him, even after his death. When I found out he was dead, I just stared at the news, numb a