By Krystina | #Wheelstrong

I’ll never forget the day you said to me:

“You’re in a relationship. You’re not allowed to have new friends. Male or female.”

That moment stopped me cold.

We were constantly fighting.
Everything I did felt like an act of rebellion to you.
I loved you.
I loved our little family.
But I despised your insecurities.
Your need to control every inch of me.

It took me 30 years to even begin to love myself.
And over and over again, I lost that girl… until you finally destroyed her.

Growing up, I was a loner.
Trauma does that to you….
especially when your childhood is split between chaos and foster homes.
Trust was never easy.
Not when the people who were supposed to love me only taught me abandonment.

But somehow—I let you in.
After years of keeping the world at arm’s length,
I let you see me.
Raw. Vulnerable. Unfiltered.

And what did you do?

You laughed at my pain.
You took the trust I finally offered and shattered it….
emotionally, and eventually, physically.
You were unfaithful… on top of it all.

Still, I stayed.

Not because I was weak.
But because I didn’t want to break up another home.
I wanted our kids to have stability, something I never had.

So I tried to find myself again.
I went to the gym.
I started dressing up.
Trying to make friends.
Trying to feel human again.

I even went to counseling, something I always resisted.

And your response?

You accused me of cheating.
You belittled my emotions.
Mocked my depression.
You twisted everything I did to feel good again into some kind of threat.

I was living in a war zone.
My home wasn’t a sanctuary….
it was just another battlefield.

I tiptoed around your moods.
I found myself dreading the sound of your voice,
looking for escape in extra shifts at work,
long gym sessions,
nights out,
anything to remember what peace felt like.

Was I perfect? No.

Eventually, your betrayal and control pushed me into the arms of comfort elsewhere.
I own that.
I teach my kids every day: two wrongs don’t make a right.

But you wished this life on me.
You tried to bury me.
And yet here I am….still standing. Still fighting.
And finally, free.