Financial Abuse

If there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that there will always be periods of calm before a storm. But calm seas never made a skilled sailor, so I have mastered the art of asking myself, what is it that I need to learn in this situation, instead of having a meltdown.

You know, a meltdown might fix what’s wrong with me right now, tbh. This week has felt like trying to wrangle a thousand angry hornets back into their nest. One thing after another, after another has not gone according to plan. The icing on the cake was the car stranding me at the grocery store—again. This is the third car I’ve had in the last eight years that has left me stranded—more than once, I might add. I just can’t be bothered to give a shit. I was mad about it for 0.2 seconds and then did what I had to do, which loosely translates to spending obscene amounts of money for a tow and an embarrassing number of Ubers for appointments that could not be canceled. Healing my trauma from the financial abuse I endured has been one of THE hardest things I’ve ever had to overcome. Recognizing that it was abuse was a light bulb moment after years of being gaslit by a narcissist who delighted in our financial struggle. We don’t have a Porsche. Hell, we don’t even have a Toyota or Honda. We don’t have a stock portfolio or 401Ks. We don’t own a home in a bougie neighborhood. But you know what we do have? Each other. Lots of love. Lots of laughter. Lots of favor. Lots of freedom. We have become skilled sailors. #financialabuse #thrivingnotsurviving #healingfromtrauma