It was November, 2019, Thanksgiving Break. I was tired. Work and school was going nonstop, so the week off was a welcomed change. that week, I expected my monthly visitor, Aunt Flow, to stop and stay for a few days. Monday came and went, I didn’t see her. Tuesday, Wednesday, didn’t see her. This sparked an internal dialogue.

Me: Girl, where she at?

Also me: I don’t know. She should be here.

Me: Check your pills.

I checked and everything was fine. I hadn’t skipped any, so I shouldn’t have been late.

Me: Ok, you didn’t skip any.

Also me: Could I be…….

Me: NAW!!!

Also me: I KNOW RIGHT!!!

Me: Get to googling!

I googled and diagnosed myself with stress. It made perfect sense to me. I had a full plate and it only seemed to get fuller. I decided I just needed to rest, take my pills as usual and everything will be fine next month. Only, I didn’t get my period then either.

I decided to take some pregnancy tests. By some, I took four. All of them came back negative. I was beyond grateful! The last thing I wanted was another baby. They’re cute and all, but I did not want to start over. I was confused, frustrated and scared. I talked to my mom, a registered nurse, and I already knew what she was going to say, “Get a physical”. So in early January, I made an appointment, and my cycle came. I was tempted to cancel, but I didn’t and I’m glad.

I got a full physical, complete with bloodwork. I was at my daughter’s school working with the drama club advisors for the play (more on that later) when my doctor called with my bloodwork results. She started by saying everything looked good. My blood sugar was great, cholesterol was awesome, blah, blah. I thought, “naturally”. Then she said there was one problem, my thyroid. I have Hashimoto’s Disease. I said, “Hashi what???” Hashimoto’s disease is an autoimmune disease where your immune system attacks your thyroid. It causes hypothyroidism in most people. Symptoms are fatigue and sluggishness, increased sensitivity to cold, constipation, pale/dry skin, a puffy face, brittle nails, hair loss, tongue enlargement, unexplained weight gain, muscle aches, joint pain and stiffness, irregular menstrual cycles, depression, and memory lapses. (This list of symptoms is from http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/hashimotos-disease/symptoms-causes/sync-20351855.) She decided to prescribe me thyroid hormones, levothyroxine (synthetic), and I was to come back in three months for more bloodwork to check my hormone levels.

I was in shock! I didn’t know I had a thyroid problem. I stopped working on my project for the drama club and looked it up. When I read the symptoms, I realized I have been experiencing fatigue, unexplained weight gain, (about 15 pounds), memory lapses, puffy face, sensitivity to cold and of course, that’s why I missed my period for two months.

So now what? I’m working on managing it. This will be a lifelong thing for me. The synthetic hormones didn’t work, so I’m currently taking name brand synthroid. That one did the trick. My thyroid hormone levels are now normal. I don’t feel as tired as I did. I’m working out consistently to help with circulation and weight loss. I’m seeing the benefits slowly, but surely. The exercise is also to help my edema. My feet, ankles and legs swell a lot since I’ve had my children. I take a diuretic for that also. I’m not at 100%, but I’m getting better. I’m just taking it one day at a time. I plan to include my Hashimoto’s journey with you all in my blog. It may help someone else.

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January 1, 2019, I started the PrettyPettyParent blog and Instagram page. It was my goal to do a new blog post every Sunday. For a while, I did pretty good. I was blogging weekly and adding pics to IG. I even started communicating with some followers, most of them moms like me. We were different, but all of us could relate to motherhood and plain ole adulting. It was fun and helped me heal from a very difficult time in my life. However, I haven’t written anything since last Summer. What happened? In a word, life.

2018 was a terrible year. I spent most of that time fighting for a marriage I should have never entered. 2019 was a challenge. My divorce was finalized and that prompted me to make a lot changes. I accepted a new teaching position in a different district. I changed grade levels, 7th to 8th, and disciplines, life science to physical science. I didn’t remember a lick of physical science. I taught life for almost two decades. I knew I would have to be up nights, teaching myself and asking questions so I could teach my new students. One would figure that would be enough to handle at one time, but not me. I said, “I’m going to start my specialist.” So I enrolled in a local university’s specialist program in middle grades education.

My brain said, “ok, new school, new content, grad school and blogging. Sure, I can do all of that.” In reality, the blog became the least important. I was driving to classes every other Saturday. Class lasted from 8:45 – 4:30. The drive to school was forty five minutes. I was up late completing assignments and preparing lessons. Of course, I’m a mom and Little Miss Busy Body was in a new school as well. When I tell you that school ran me into the ground…..( more on that later). I was exhausted. My exhaustion and other symptoms led to a medical diagnosis that I will talk about in my next blog post. I am currently trying to figure out lifestyle changes so manage it. After the diagnosis , Covid-19 came and turned everything upside down. I gained some experience with virtual teaching and realized I actually prefer being in my classroom with my kids. 2020 has come in like a beast and a lot has happened. I’ll talk about those in a series I’m calling The Corona Chronicles. So, I’m back y’all. Ready to talk about what’s going on with me. If you’re interested, and I hope you are, log in and read. Also, check out my instagram page @prettypettyparent. It’s good to be back! Take Care!

Summer school, promotion, and retention lists are done. Textbook and classroom inventories are done. I wrote the same thing on the classroom repair list that I always do, “please repair the window.” That thing has been broken for years. Grades are complete. The grade book has been turned in. I’ve done everything to end my eighteenth year of teaching. It was bittersweet, though, because I am leaving for a new school. In case you didn’t catch that, I have been at the same school for the past 18 years. The same school system I attended from primary school all the way to high school. Some of the teachers who taught me became my colleagues. I have worked with former students, taught my classmates’ children, and taught my students’ children. I have literally been home all of my life. Now, after all of this time, I am leaving home. My old classroom will soon belong to someone else.

Telling my coworkers and was hard.  A lot of them were shocked.  The closer we got to the last day, the harder it was to fight back the tears, but I didn’t cry.  They wished me well.  My team took me to lunch.  My students were really cute about it.  After yelling at me for leaving, they planned a goodbye party for me.  I’m going to miss them all.

So, what prompted this move? Back in January, I received a text from a friend.  It said, “Hey, are you ready for a change?” I knew exactly what she was saying.  I took about five minutes before I replied, “yes.”  Turns out there was going to be an opening at the school where she teaches.  She wanted to know how I would feel about leaving my current school for someplace new.  In that five minutes I took to think, the first word that came to mind was change. The second was challenge.  Those two words had been in my vocabulary a lot more since my marriage fell apart. Dealing with the aftermath of my then husband’s behavior was quite a challenge for me and caused a big change in my every day life.  I then thought to myself, “my life has been nothing but a series of changes for the past six months, why not grab the bull by the horns and do it.”

You see, I’ve always been that one to tell others, especially my children and students to embrace change and to face challenges.  I just never applied that to my life very much.  I have a terrible habit of staying in my comfort zone. I ran away from things that made me uncomfortable. I did not allow myself to grow out of fear.  That is how I remained in one school for 18 years, teaching the same subject to seventh grade students. After saying yes, she recommended me to her principal.  He contacted me for an interview. I went and I killed it.  There was only one drawback. I’ve been teaching life science, what I call baby biology, all of this time.  I was told during the interview that I would teach 8th grade physical science.  I would also have a 9th grade physical science honors class.  Inside, I was a mess.  I was thinking to myself, “how am I supposed to teach a subject I haven’t seen in years? I haven’t taken physical science since high school! And I only taught it my first year teaching!”  I immediately became uncomfortable. In that moment, I shook it off and decided to take the bull by the horns.  As a result, I now have to take the high school certification tests for science.  Then, I decided to really get crazy and apply to school to start my specialist, which will take 13 months.

So, this summer, July 1, I will be a student again. Then in August, I will begin teaching a subject I haven’t taught in 17 years. I’m very uncomfortable, but happy and excited for the new challenges I will soon face.

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You guys have no idea how long I’ve been trying to blog about my Spring Break from Hell. It was super terrible, but that’s ok, because I lived to tell the story. In a nutshell, my daughter came down with the flu, my son ate something that didn’t agree with him, and I battled a terrible chest cold. Near the end of the week, my bottom half decided to rebel against me, if you know what I mean. I should have known something was wrong when I took the kids to the movies. Watching my daughter drizzle butter on the popcorn made my stomach turn. By the end of the show, I had to make a mad dash to the toilet. Nothing I planned to do happened. I even missed a ball I was invited to. That one hurt. I had the dress, shoes, accessories, everything! I made plans, but life threw me quite a few changes.

Since that week was so crazy, I decided to postpone the blog post. Thinking I’d have enough time to get the post finished before or by the following Sunday. However, I forgot about preparing for the GA Milestones tests, testing week, piano lessons, Easter practice, the fundraiser my daughter is participating in, applying for school to start my specialist, and a ton of other things that I was required to do. I also had a couple of dates. I certainly didn’t want to miss those.

I had gotten so caught up in everything that I forgot the date for the wedding my ex husband and I had for family had come and gone, and that the one month anniversary of my divorce had done the same. Does that mean I’m one hundred percent better? No, not really. I still have some healing and self discovery to do. I honestly don’t think the self discovery part of my life will ever be over because people are always changing. Speaking of changing, I have some pretty big changes coming down the pike. Aside from going back to school, I am also starting a new teaching job in a new school system for the first time in eighteen years. I am super nervous about it, and to be honest, it makes me uncomfortable. This move is necessary for me to change and grow as an educator and as a person. It’s time I got out of my comfort zone and this change is exactly what I need. I will talk more about that in the very near future.

All in all, there have been a lot of changes these past few weeks. Some good, some bad, some I’m not sure of. I always say the only constant in life is change, and I always tell my children and students to strive to progress and to embrace change. As time went by, I noticed that I wasn’t practicing what I was preaching. I am proud of myself for embracing the changes that I am making and not getting down in the dumps for the curveballs life have sent me.

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I have two children, one son and one girl. My son is the oldest, he was a very easy child to manage. He was and still is very compliant. He never really challenged anything I said. Even grooming was easy. All I had to do was keep his hair cut, washed and brushed. My daughter, of course, is totally different. She has a ton of hair that takes forever to wash and style, and sometimes insists on doing it herself. I’m constantly explaining to her why she can’t wear make-up. She wants to negotiate almost every decision I make. Plus, she is always up to something. Just recently, she decided to sprinkle my Dr. Teal’s Activated Charcoal and Hawaiian Black Lava Salt Epsom Salt, all over her bathroom floor. Why did she do it? She doesn’t even know. She really keeps me on my toes and this past Tuesday, she knocked me clean off my feet.

It was after school and we were in my classroom. I was making sure my room was set up for the next day, writing my agenda on the board, and throwing away old papers. She then starts a conversation that went like this:

Rylin: Mommy.

Me: Yeah?

Rylin: Something happened at school today.

Me: Oh yeah? What?

Rylin: I went to the bathroom to do number one and when I wiped, I saw blood.

Now, before she hit me with that statement, I had a small smile on my face. After she hit me with that statement, the smile froze. I was cool, calm, collected mom on the outside. On the inside, I was freaking out! Inside, my mind was struggling to form complete sentences. I literally said to myself, “Lord….. What? Wait, wait, wait, what? How? Now? Why? The girl just tried to put Vaseline in her toothpaste tube!! You’re doing this now?! God why?! SHE IS NOT READY!!! I’M NOT READY!! She’s only eight!!”

Me: (All outwardly cool, calm and collected) Ok, well, no big deal. Let’s just go to the restroom and check things out.

We went and did what we had to do, and over the next three days, it, a bonafide cycle presented itself. Of course, being the parent I am, we had to have a conversation about it. I did the same with her brother, but I was worried because at that time he was older and more mature. Not to mention the topic was slightly different and not as complicated as what she was now experiencing.

Me: Rylin, your body is changing. You’re growing into a young woman. What this means is that one day, you’ll be able to become a mommy.

Rylin: GASP!! I’m having a baby?!?!

Me: (fighting the urge to laugh and place my face in my hands) No! There has to be a daddy. You can’t have a baby without a daddy. When you are ready to know how a woman gets pregnant with a baby, all you have to do is ask me. We can talk about it. We can talk about anything. Do you want to know now?

Rylin: (emphatically) No!

Me: Ok, fair enough.

I had to call my sister. She was speechless, which says something, because this woman talks all of the time. When she did speak, the first thing she asked me was did I call our mom. I told her no, because she’s my practice call. We remembered one of our first cousins who started her cycle at nine. My daughter will be nine later this year. I called my mom right after talking with my sister and she had the same reaction as my sister and I. She actually said she wasn’t ready. I looked at my phone in disbelief. Did she really just say that??? I’m the one who has to live with her! We decided we would just keep an eye on her and see how long it lasts, record it on the calendar to see if it’s really a monthly thing, or if this is simply a peek a boo and will really show itself later.

During the rest of my talk with Rylin, I had to go through the whole song and dance of how to handle this new responsibility. I’m not sure she really gets it all, but of course, I’ll be right there to guide her through it. That’s my job. I’m her momma and she’s my baby girl. I’d rather she learn all of this from me than anyone else. I cannot let her try to navigate this on her own. I’m reminded of how my mom had no clue when it happened to her. Many women from her generation did not have parents who talked to them about things like that. My mother was there for me. We were there for my sister and I now have a village of women to support my daughter.

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Now that I’m divorced, I have found myself back into the dating scene.  Last month, I received a message on facebook from a very handsome guy.  It read, “always had a crush on you”. No, “hello, how are you?” Just that he had a crush on me.  I figured that started from my college days. I looked at his profile and realized that we were both alumni of the same school and both members of BGLOs (Black Greek Letter Organizations), Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc and Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc., respectively.  

I simply responded that I didn’t know he had a crush on me and we had a short, but good conversation.  He asked me to dinner, which I thought was nice.  Recent experiences had me thinking most men just wanted me to tell them when I could meet them for a drink, or come to their homes, which I politely decline.  They must really think THOT is written on my forehead.  So being asked to an actual dinner date was a nice change from the norm.  

I was actually excited. It would be my first date with someone Ive never gone out with before.  I have been on a couple of dates, but they were with men I’ve known for a while.  We exchanged numbers and decided to play it by ear because we were both busy for the next couple of weekends. The next morning, I got the typical “good morning, beautiful” text.  I replied with a good morning.  I figured we’d text later on in the day, but that is not what happened.  He texted me ALL day.  There were all kinds of questions.  

Why am I getting divorced?
Did I do everything I could to save it? 
Did I have sex enough? 

Would I call myself a plain Jane romantic or a freak?
Can he come to my classroom in basketball shorts and no underwear and sit in front with his legs open? 

I did a MAJOR eye roll.  Of course, he was flirting with that last question, but I didn’t find it remotely sexy or interesting.  We hadn’t even met face to face and he’d just gotten my number the night before.  What kind of woman does he think I am? If he was trying to determine if I was sexually active, all he had to do was ask.  And what kind of man would ask me, a teacher, if he could sit in my classroom full of children, with no underwear in basketball shorts? This fool is crazy, and not even the fun kind.  

The phone calls and texts kept coming over the next couple of weeks.  In that time, I learned a lot about ole Pretty Boy.  He’s in his late 30s.  Has a son, doesn’t get along with the mother, works retail and is trying to get his life together. He knows he can cook better than me.  He wants to fall in love one day but is concerned that I’m taking a break from relationships because he’s interested in me (I guess he’s used to getting what he wants and didn’t want to risk getting to know me without the guarantee that I’d be his girlfriend).  He’s also a freak, but is working on being more romantic. He invited me to go away with him for his birthday weekend to get “white girl wasted”, whatever that means, but I said no.  

Now, why did I continue to converse with him? Honestly, I enjoyed laughing at him. However, funny things must come to an end.  He tried to check me one night for not texting or calling him all day.  I got a few butt hurt messages from him too.  He actually asked me if something was wrong with my fingers or my phone.  I decided to ask him what was he expecting. When he said “nothing”, I said “Great, then we’re on the same page! Have a good night.” I haven’t heard from his since.  We never even made it to dinner. 

Basically, the Pretty Boy is just pretty.  He seems rather vapid to me.  There were always a ton of grammatical errors in his texts.  I had to read them at least three times to make sense of some of them.  Dating him would have been a complete waste of time.  My ex husband did enough of that, so I’m not eager to allow anyone else to waste more of it.  I do hope Pretty Boy gets his life together though.  He said he wants to fall in love.  I truly hope he does fall in love and finds happiness with someone who can love and appreciate what he brings to the table. I just know that woman isn’t me.  

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Ok! So this marriage of mine is officially over! The final decree came in the mail a couple of days ago. I swear I had the biggest urge to buy a frame and hang it in my living room. I’m not really going to do that. I put it away in a folder with the other papers. The final hearing took about 5 minutes. We didn’t look at or talk to each other. Every ounce of feeling I once had was gone, including anger. Anyone would think that being angry with him is justifiable, all things considered; however, holding onto that type of feeling is really a waste of time and energy. What is really funny to me is that he stopped talking to me like I did something to him. All I did, honestly, was love him… apparently that wasn’t enough.

I really don’t have any regrets. Well, maybe just one, and that was not leaving when I knew I should have. Instead of listening to him, I should have listened to my gut and walked away.

This relationship was a significant one, and not because we were married, but because of what it taught me about relationships and most importantly about myself. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I do want to share what I have learned thus far.

1. Marriage is a beautiful thing. This situation has not soured my outlook on love or marriage. I have seen some beautiful marriages, so I know it’s possible. It’s even possible for me. I simply married the wrong person — really, really, really wrong. Which leads me to number 2.

2. Listen to my gut. Now this one I will do from now on. Had I listened, that relationship would have ended before we got engaged. All of the signs were there, I just ignored or rationalized them. I swear my gut was saying, “No heffa, nooooooo!!!” Sadly, I didn’t listen.

3. I’m strong. I have alway known this. I have faced many things that have shown me just how strong I am. The problem with this is that forgetting is easy — at least it is for me. It took this really terrible situation to remind me, again, of just how strong I am. I’m glad I remembered, because I think he tried to break me. What he doesn’t know is no man is strong enough to do that, because I’m unbreakable. I will never forget that again for as long as I live.

4. I did not value myself enough. Not only did I forget my strength, I did not value myself enough to walk away from a toxic relationship. This also applies to my professional life. It still surprises me to hear that I’m a good teacher. Many people have asked when I’m coming out of the classroom. I haven’t put forth any real effort to do that because, deep down, I don’t feel as if I’m good enough. Since it literally makes no sense not to see the greatness others see in me in myself, I have started working towards reaching my full potential. I already have a few possible changes on the horizon that will set me on a path to greatness.

5. I settled. Apparently, not valuing myself led to settling for less that I deserve. That is over in all areas of my life.

I think that’s it for now, of course, more lessons will be learned as I work to better myself and heal from what happened. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. The good times were really good, but the bad times were horrible. There was a constant barrage of lies, even about things I didn’t question. I was living in a constant state of manipulation and didn’t know it. I lost weight from stress four different times while we were together. When he realized he couldn’t control me, he concocted the dumbest way to get rid of me. I remember telling him it wasn’t the ending of the marriage that hurts, it was the way he decided to do it. He not only hurt me, but he hurt my children. It’s was despicable, hands down. It’s over now, and I’m glad. I’m happy and I’m free to live my best life on my terms.

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Someone has been missing from several blog and IG posts. That someone is my 14-year-old son, Cameron. He’s my first born, the other half of my heart, of course his sister is the second half. He currently lives three hours away with his dad, and has been since he started middle school. I call him my carbon copy. We are alike in so many ways. He looks like me, we both love comics, especially the Marvel Universe. We draw, although his talents have far surpassed my own. He’s also an introvert and craves alone time just as much as I do.

A lot of moms have asked me how could I let him go. A lot of dads have commended me for my decision. It wasn’t easy, but it was right. Many years ago, his dad and I agreed that our son would move in with him to start high school, but that changed. As he grew up, he developed an interest in animation and CGI (computer generated images). He never had a real interest in sports. Getting him to play anything never really went well. He did not like going outside. He complained about the heat and the gnats. Living in Southwest Georgia, that’s actually a very valid complaint. Because of his interest, the middle school where I teach was not the school for him. It really caters to those who have an interest in sports. There is nothing there for kids who are interested in tech or the arts. I also did not want to be his teacher. It may seem silly, but I did not want anyone to think I was giving him preferential treatment. I also knew he was going to grow up to be a man. I can’t teach him how to do that, so it was time for his dad to fill that need.

His dad and I talked and decided that Cam would move in with him the summer before sixth grade. I spent the entire year before talking to him about it. I had to try and prepare him, because he is a creature of habit; he hates change. When the time came, it was right after his twelfth birthday dinner. He cried, I cried, Rylin, his sister cried. It was an adjustment, but we’ve all gotten used to it. He comes home on some weekends, holidays and the summers.

He has done and is doing so much. Currently, he is enrolled in the magnet program at his high school. He has taken music and learned to play the trumpet. He takes art animation and golf lessons. He joined the chorus in middle school. He’s a member of the art and robotics club. They even made their own video game where he was in charge of character development. There have also been some struggles. He had problems with completing assignments, and even turning work in all through middle school, except eighth grade. He even started his first semester as a freshman doing the same thing. We spent this past Christmas organizing his book bag and folders and giving him tips on staying on top of his assignments, tests and quizzes. Since this second semester started, he’s been doing a lot better. Maybe the $500 for all A’s his dad promised him is a bit of motivation. He still hates it when he has to leave, but he loves his school and all of the different things he has experienced.

If I had to do it all over again, I would make the same decision. I feel like I gave him a better chance of being what he wants to be. I was really impressed that he has known what he wanted to do since he was eight years old. I knew what he needed was not in our little rural town. I am confident that he will use all he is learning to live his best life.

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If you have been following my blog, you know the story of how I was kicked out of the house I shared with my soon-to-be ex husband, The Mitch. It was a horrendous day. I had to start completely over, find a place to live, buy furniture, stock the fridge with food. One would think that was the worst thing to experience, but it wasn’t. I had the drive, resources and help to make that transition a little easier. The hardest part of that entire experience was being on the receiving end of the silent treatment for a full month.

Giving someone the silent treatment is something we have all done at some point in our lives. I remember being so upset with one of my parents that I vowed I would never talk to them again. Then somewhere in the act of my silence (usually a few hours later), I realized I needed something and I had to break my vow. What can I say, life is hard when you’re dependent on someone else.

In the beginning, I figured The Mitch would eventually talk to me because he clearly needed me. He doesn’t know how to cook. He’s not very good at washing clothes. He works nights, so I would run small errands for him during the day while he slept. He’s going to need me for something. Turns out he didn’t. This reminded me of something he said to me during an argument some months before, “You don’t do anything so spectacular that I can’t do it for myself.” I wasn’t as indispensable as I thought.

During the first two weeks, I continued to do it all. I washed and folded his clothes, cooked dinner, packed his lunch and made his coffee for work. He didn’t speak to me. He didn’t even look at me. When I spoke to him, I got one word replies. Any attempt to have a conversation was met with silence. It would have been more effective talking to a wall. If I called him, he didn’t answer. He did not respond to texts. In an attempt to get him to notice me, I straightened my hair. He always loved when I did that, but even that did nothing.

I had grown accustomed to talking to him at night while he drove for work. The nights during this period were long and silent. I watched my favorite TV shows and texted with my friends more to fill the void. The weekends were the worst. Those were our off days. We usually lounged around the house together or took in a movie and went to dinner. Now it was nothing. We were in two separate rooms, avoiding each other. I only heard his voice when he was on the phone with his friends. He started staying up late and would come to bed around 3 a.m., sleeping on the far left side of the bed, with his back turned to me. To cope, I would watch @eddiebcomedy, @iamzoie and @tc_illkillya on Instagram a lot. They kept me sane. They don’t know it, but I am so grateful to them for the laughs because I really needed them. I also listened to a lot of music through my Bluetooth to keep me distracted; shout out to Cardi B!

The last two weeks, I stopped trying. I stopped trying to initiate conversations. I made sure that only my daughter and I ate. I stopped washing his clothes, packing lunch and making coffee. I moved out of the bedroom and into my son’s room. I was angry and anxious all of the time. The anxiety got the best of me, because I lost my appetite. I remember three days in a row when I ate nothing. After that, I could only stand to eat very little because I knew I had to. That was hard because the very thought of food made me nauseous. I lost almost thirty pounds. Imagine a 5’4″ woman, weighing a healthy 135 bs dropping to 107lbs. Through it all, I went to work and taught my students, took care of my daughter, and texted my son. I didn’t dare call him. He would know something was wrong the minute he heard my voice. Unfortunately, my daughter caught me crying one night. She simply sat down next to me, put her arm around my shoulder and cried too.

This led me to google how to deal with the silent treatment. I learned a lot. Before that time, I did not know it was a form of abuse. The abuser is trying to exert their control over the victim. The victim tries anything they can to change the situation, which is exactly what I started doing when it first started. I remember reading it was possible that the abuser would end the relationship and that did happen to me. My kids and I were treated like we were disposable when we had done nothing to hurt or disrespect him.

If any of you reading this has ever been the victim, the only thing you can do is not respond. Try to go through your daily life as usual. Do speak up and let the other person know that you are aware of what they are doing, that you do not approve of it and will talk when they are ready. It may even be necessary for you to walk away from the relationship all together. I regret not doing so myself. If you are the abuser, the giver of this treatment, please understand that it is a form of psychological warfare. It’s punishment and it is not fair to the receiver. If you have children and they are around to witness, it’s a toxic environment for them as well. I will always regret my daughter was exposed to it.

This was one of the darkest moments in my marriage and the fourth or fifth time I lost my appetite due to stress and anxiety during our entire relationship. It took him putting me out to see that I should have ended things with him before I married him. It is my hope that writing about this will help someone in a similar situation make a better decision. Take care of yourselves and choose to be happy.

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