Over the last 5 years, I must have created some sort of underground reputation as a "divorce whisperer" or something. I've had so many women come to me asking for advice on how to approach issues in their difficult relationships, how to make the decision to divorce, or what steps to take to start the process and get through negotiations. Before anything else, I always ask: Are you safe?
This is first and foremost. And psychological safety is just as important as physical safety, as they are intertwined to the fullest. If you can exhale knowing you and your kids are not in harm's way, then you can more capably prepare mentally and emotionally for what's next.
There were so many nights that I prayed he didn't come home. I was terrified that he would be out of his right mind, end up in Mia's room and do something unspeakable. If I heard a door open at all hours, I would leap out of bed and hold my breath until I knew he made it to the guest bedroom... but more than once he only made it as far as the front lawn, the living room couch or the master bedroom floor. (Coaxing him to move somewhere that Mia wouldn't see him in the morning was no small feat.) But at some point, I became so fearful for her safety, I started "sleeping" on the floor of Mia's room in front of her crib with a frying pan. Her baby pink room with this big gray wool Pottery Barn rug in the middle. You could cut the stillness in the house with a knife it was so thick. Dead silent, outside the noise of soft ocean waves flowing from her sound machine. I would lay there in the silence, on this beautiful, itchy, bumpy rug - and listen and wait.
When he "moved out," meaning took an overnight bag of clothes, I kept seeing signs of him being at the house during the day when I was at work. TVs taken, pictures off the walls, lamps missing, rugs gone from the bathroom floor. It made me so uneasy that he still had access to the house. So while I didn't want to move, I knew I would never feel safe in this house, no matter how much time went by.
After moving to the new house in April 2019, I didn't give him the address for months. I had an alarm system installed week 1, put glass breaks on all the doors and windows, changed the locks and reactivated the doorbell camera. For the first time in years, I felt safe in my own home. That feeling was priceless.
I will admit I contemplated getting a gun for protection. I never had been in a situation that necessitated it, but I was also still under the manipulation trance and wasn't sure if he or any of his riff raff "friends" would come try any of the crazy shit he spewed or the "what ifs" my mind imagined. I even went to the shooting range a couple times to learn how to use one. I opted not to pursue this route, as guns scare the shit out of me, and God forbid anyone would be accidentally harmed.
So anytime I get asked for advice, the first point I make is to get to a safe place. One where you can protect yourself and your kids. One where you can think clearly. And breathe. Feeling and being safe in every way is the most basic of needs, so arm yourself with anything that brings you that... whether it be company, knowledge, security systems... or frying pans.
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