This is an honest look at how I allowed my warped sense of these words and my conceit to control me and keep me in an unsafe marriage.
These are all words that stopped me in my tracks:
DA in the courthouse: Are you a lawyer?
DA: You’re the victim?
Me: (Deep breath because that knocked the wind out of me) Yes.
I was resistant to the abused victim label because I associated that title with, I don’t know, meth addicts or feeble minded folks who didn’t have the sense to get away. And to sound the alarm after decades of enduring it? That seemed to make me look like an even bigger fool. My snobbery enslaved me.
Same for every other word on that list. I had no desire to…
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