November (well, actually October 31) marks two years since I left my abusive relationship.
I thought I had found freedom – and to an extent I had. But not altogether. I was hanging on to “maybe God will work a miracle and restore our marriage.” I know that happens sometimes and, being a child of divorce, I never wanted one so I held out hope.
I have learned, over the last year, that hope can hold you prisoner. It can keep you in a place you shouldn’t be (physically, mentally, and/or emotionally) so that you don’t move on to the new thing.
The Bible tells us: For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery. Galatians 5:1 (ESV)
As long as I was holding out hope that we would reconcile, I was not fully committed to building a new life that works for me in the here and now. I was living in the land of “What If.”
What-If Land is an interesting place. It holds all the promise of renewal and restoration that comes with a beautiful spring. What if he can change enough to be what I need him to be? What if I can change enough so I don’t set him off anymore? What if I can get my happily-ever-after if I don’t give up?
I knew that going back to my marriage, without significant changes on his side and mine, would be submitting again to a yoke of slavery. It took an unexpected medical diagnosis to realize that holding out that hope was also submitting to a yoke of slavery. I had enslaved myself and wasn’t living fully in either world – not the marriage and not the new life.
Then, in August, I got a new medical diagnosis. (I’m not dying or anything!) And everything shifted.What I have – what we all have – is the NOW.
I don’t want to live in What-If Land because that’s not living. Since August, I have filed for divorce and started engaging more in my life. Faith. Family. Friends. Fun. All without wondering what would happen to all of those things if he and I reconciled. I’m sorry that it took a medical thing to get me over the hump.
It doesn’t have to be something like that for you. You can just decide. You have agency over your life – I have, too, even if it took a bump in the road for me to realize it.
Groups like Reach Out Speak Out are here to support us. Love us. Encourage us. Sometimes give us a gentle nudge if we need it. You can leave your yoke behind and never take it up again. Statistically, it takes 7 attempts before a DV victim leaves for good. It took me every one of those 7 attempts before I left for good. And almost two years to fully leave that yoke behind. And it feels so good. I feel younger and lighter and happier than I have in… well, I can’t even remember when.
I live in a home now where two of the big rules are no yelling and no name calling. Ever. Just that change breathes life over me each and every day. There’s consideration – if I or one of my roommates is going to be out later than normal, for example, we let one another know so that no one worries. But there’s not a feeling of having to report in to keep someone’s feathers from being ruffled. I can watch TV or read or even scroll social media without interruption. My conversations aren’t listened to and I’m not questioned about them afterward.
This is heady, life-giving stuff that I deserve. You deserve. Everyone deserves.
Leave your yoke of slavery behind.
Live fully and live out loud.