Two Truths

There are two truths that I hold:

I love and miss my kid (the kid I used to know)

I cannot live with someone with abusive tendencies/behaviours.

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It's been nearly two years since he left and I am a better happier person.

I don't dread waking up with him in the home, and I don't dread coming home to him. I don't miss the constant thankless efforts to keep his life running smoothly - from school advocacy to buying the "right" clothes. Everything was so loaded and I was doing everything to avoid arguments, to avoid having him lose his shit (at me).

So I bent over backwards to make his life easy. Don't want to do laundry? I guess I'll do it. Want to read queer YA? I'll find the books, put them on hold at the library, pick them up and serve them to you. (Why yes, I did learn all about how to exist this way while I was married to his dad, why do you ask?) Want to throw things around and come at me with your fists. I only yelled Help that one time when really I lived in fear of what he might do next.

I spent a year absolutely destroyed by this loss. Being accused of being abusive. Being accused of being the reason he wanted to die. Still being blamed for everything that ever went wrong (again, shade of his dad)

And this year...less so. I started seeing a therapist in January. I got a job where I feel validated. I came out as non-binary. I'm recognizing that some patterns that I've relied on aren't healthy. I'm feeling confident for the first time in my life. I'm able to identify my needs and put them first. I've got some strong and healthy boundaries.

But I could only do all this because I lost my child.