Ripe for the Picking

When he first met me, was there a giant "L" for "LOSER" emblazoned on my forehead? Did I give off some special scent that he was able to pick up? Was there something about me that screamed: "Here I am, come and get me. You can use me and abuse and get away with it." ? Did he see my past and somehow sense that I was vulnerable, needy, wounded, and somehow "ripe for the picking?" Was there something innately "wrong" with ME that I would have even been attracted to him in the first place?

Why didn't I run the other way when I first saw him? Why didn't I call the cops or go to the emergency room the very FIRST time he hurt me? Why didn't I tell someone how he made me suffer? Why did it take me so long to realize that the things he was doing & saying were so WRONG?

How could I have cared so little for myself that all he had to do was tell me was that I was smart & beautiful and I'd essentially "let him" hurt me? How could I have believed him when he said he "loved" me? How many times did I endure HOURS of his sexual torture, only to forgive it all or explain it away as a "misunderstanding" just because he'd bring me an ice pack to dull the pain, make me a cup of coffee the next morning, offer to cook supper, or bring home flowers? How did that make it "okay" for him to hurt me like he did?

One thing I do know ... I didn't want my daughter to grow up thinking that's how a man treats a woman he professes to love. I didn't want my boys to grow up thinking that's how a man expresses his "love" to a woman. That's why I left. They deserve to grow up without living in fear. And as excruciatingly difficult as it may be to struggle through all of the legal "stuff," I can't give up now. I just have to keep reminding myself of what I USED TO think when he'd lead me off into another room to "have his way with me" ... I'M DOING THIS FOR MY KIDS!