Girls Aren't Dirty but The A Word Is

In terms of material things, I was not spoiled growing up. But my sister and I were loved.

I was however spoiled in not knowing how cruel people were. Something I recently accused my mother of sheltering me from (yay for trauma anger).

An old friend I used to work with back when I first started my career had been through something similar and started a new blog to share her experience on. She started sharing more of her story, though I knew most bits and pieces, and I went back to re-read some of the things she wrote about, including the signs you're in an abusive relationship.

It doesn't matter how many articles you read on abusive relationships, gaslighting, cheating, NPD/BPD, etc., they don’t get any different and truth be told it doesn’t make you feel any different, especially when you miss someone and you still have trouble even fathoming half of the things you’re reading. Much less it's something that basically happened to you. 

It also doesn't matter how many times your friends and therapist try to drill things like this into your head. You can tell me all of the things but when you see someone who you love, destroy your life but treat someone else the way that they used to treat you and can't figure out why they abandoned you out of nowhere, you tend to not believe it anymore. Even when a professional you've been seeing for well over a year and a half tries so hard to convince you she is, in fact, the professional. 

Something my friend and I connected on, among other things, was the fact that we were two strong girls who got completely broken down by someone we trusted to never do that, and finding it incredible how it happened. 

Something that was comforting while we were talking was that her responses to a lot of what I was saying was SAME GIRL. Same girl. No one should ever have to go through what we went through. We shouldn't have to say same girl when talking about ways the love of our life left us and ended up treating us. But knowing that someone could relate so strongly to things I was saying meant I wasn't an anomaly.

Being cheated on and left for someone who is so incredibly eerily similar to you just adds to the confusion. And it fucking hurts. Because she's living the life I had/wanted, and I sit at home trying to figure out why I wasn't good enough. 

I still refuse to say the A word. I still would give anything for real closure and real answers. And you know what else I would always welcome (if you were ever ready). 

I hope when Life's Better In Yoga Pants, the book, comes out this summer it helps other girls know they're not alone when they don't have anyone who can relate to them. 

For now, I've got a bruised tailbone to attend to since the powder I was promised on Sunday was ice! 

XO,
Lynette