I Stayed

I stayed.

I stayed despite the rampant rumors floating around about your sexual preferences. 

I stayed.

I stayed and was complicit many times, in making sure your breath didn’t smell like alcohol when the bottle to throttle rule had been bent and broken. 

I stayed.

I stayed when you didn’t come home, but instead got drunk with your friend and totaled a brand new sports car when I was home pregnant with our child. 

I stayed.

I stayed after I found lipstick on your uniform and on your underwear and you tried to gaslight me about it. 

I stayed.

I stayed when our newborn was barely five weeks old and you admitted having an affair. You boasted to my mom and dad that I would never leave you. And I didn’t. 

I stayed. 

I stayed while you and your mom fat shamed me instead of supporting me during the worst depression of my life. 

I stayed.

I stayed after, on vacation, you called me an ugly, fat, clueless, rock star want-to-be in front of our children. 

I stayed.

I stayed after you spanked our four year old daughter so hard that your handprint was still visible three days later, all because you were drunk and trying to remove a splinter from her foot with a pocketknife and she wouldn’t be still—because she was terrified. 

I stayed. 

I stayed after I found out that you had joined a website so you could hook up with people behind my back while you were away from home. Threesomes was your kink. You tried to gaslight me about it. I was going to leave you then, but…

I stayed.

I stayed after you lost your job and were humiliated in front of your peers and the whole world, but in your own words, you did it to spite ME. Made me the villain in your story. 

I stayed. 

I stayed long after the light had left your eyes.

I stayed.

I take full responsibility for repeatedly staying and staying and for trying and wishing and hoping and deluding myself for years that you would change. Joke was on me though, because a narcissist doesn’t change, because a narcissist doesn’t believe they are to blame, ever. All of the blame was placed squarely on my fragile shoulders. Did I make my share of mistakes? Yes I did, but I tried. I went to therapy. I lost all the weight. I curtailed my own drinking. I was days away from getting my personal trainer’s certification. I was actively trying to become a better version of myself and in so doing, become a better mother, a better wife for you, for our future, and YOU threw that away. You threw us away. 

Even though I stayed. 

And the moment I no longer wanted to stay, I was the problem. Me, not you. The switch was flipped and I was the enemy, the person who was going to drain your bank account. Fourteen years, like it never happened. Like we never meant anything—all of it, a lie and the only true and beautiful thing you did, you managed to ruin that for yourself, too. 

More to come…