This week I turned another year closer to 30. The old me would be panicking right now at the thought of taking another step closer to the end of my twenties. Instead, today was probably one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. Simple. Honest. Real.
When I reflect on everything I have been through in the last six months, turning another year older doesn’t seem so bad. You know why? Because I survived. I faced calculated and deliberate emotional abuse and finally developed enough strength to walk away.
Six months ago I entered into a relationship with a man 11 years older than me. At the time, he seemed like the perfect guy. He was sweet, kind, thoughtful, and attentive. To say he was charming would be an understatement.
Everyone loved him- he was funny, energetic, and charismatic. He had a way of commanding attention in a room. People were drawn to him, especially women. 🚩
He appeared to hang the moon. I quickly became the recipient of beautiful and sometimes over the top bouquets. 🚩Declarations of love, right? Who else comes home to find a large, heavy floral arrangement other than someone deeply loved and admired?
Over the top displays of “love and admiration” should be approached as cautiously as a King Coba would be. If it seems too good to be true, it is.
Mumford and Sons, James Taylor, Adele, and Atlanta Symphony concerts- more displays of love… I had become the lovestruck girl who wondered around life with blinders on ignoring the red flags waving in my face!
I got up every morning, read the “good morning. I hope you slept well…” texts, put on my blinders, and attempted to ignore the fact that something just didn’t add up.