“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind;
People throw rocks at things that shine!!”
Our words are one of the most powerful things we are given by God. With one fail swoop, we can completely destroy another person, leaving them in a heap on the ground reeling from the tongue-lashing we’ve just delivered for reasons probably unbeknownst to even ourselves. Whether our intent is to defend or crush, we are accountable for each and every word that leaves our mouths, and rarely are we as careful as we need be about such an enormous responsibility.
Though I wasn’t fully aware at the time, throughout most of the last years of my marriage, I was the victim of bullying. Being the fairly intelligent person I pride myself on being, I feel ashamed to admit this fact, but nonetheless, it is true. There is basically no other way to describe the daily verbal and emotional assault that occurred within the walls of this home short of using that simple 5 letter word – bully. I could go into why I believe he became this ugly person, why I allowed it to happen for so long, why my self-worth had deteriorated so low, why I didn’t defend my children as I should have – but those are all points I’ve only come to realize in the two years since we’ve escaped. Or have we…?
What I want to write about today is how this behavior has become a ‘family affair’ – how he’s enlisted his all-too-willing family to join ranks – the “D Team” – and how not a week goes by, and believe me, that’s being generous…it’s actually more like days at a clip, where I’m not being harassed via text, social media, crank phone calls, etc., as are the children with messages that relay this negative rhetoric – from every angle possible – all under the misguided guise of love. The underlying message is always the same – I have done terrible wrongs to him, I am a liar to the courts, and he has been kept from his children when all he wants to do is love them.
Anyone who knows ANYTHING about me knows I do not lie, first and foremost. I am a lot of things…but a liar, after my childhood…will never be one of them. Second, I am not an idiot. Everything I have professed in court, I can back with documentation. Every text message, every 9-1-1 response, every threatening call, every single TRO violation – I have a brain, and I’m not afraid to use it. In this technology age, everything you do is monitored in some way…everything. I cannot help it if THEY cannot figure that out.
We have been apart for 2 years now. I have moved on – my kids have moved on. We are happy, we are living with our ‘new’ reality, and thriving. What I do not understand with all of my being is why this family that never really let me in for 25 years, who range in age from 61 to 49, cannot seem to grow up and get a life. I don’t hate any of them – it’s not in me to hate them, not even him. I would love for him to let go of his anger and bitterness – to find someone that makes him happy. But he’s so adamant about carrying around this load of hatred, I don’t think he’ll ever relent…and that truly breaks my heart…not just for him, but for our children, who witness his continued bad choices, hateful language regarding me, and general ugliness. They are destined for disappointment until he makes a conscious decision to stop, plain and simple.
What has changed, however, is my response. No longer am I that scared, unworthy little woman who thought I didn’t deserve better. No longer am I just standing by and letting them gang up on me, demanding whatever they want, and me jumping in fear. I have finally figured out my worth, found my spine again, and most importantly…and quite possibly for the first time ever…I AM HAPPY. I don’t know if I ever could have said that before…in my life. I am happy. I am happy. I AM HAPPY.
So to my bullies – the whole lot of you – I say, sorry…I can’t participate today. I’m busy living my life, with my children. Your threats, your intimidation, your scare tactics – they’re not valid here anymore. We’ve moved on, and we’re not going to let you bring us down anymore. We wish you well, but you’re going to have to find another hobby, because we’re all done.