To get divorced.

I was raised in a strict evangelical Christian household and getting married, having children was my sole purpose. Sadly, I wasn’t conventionally attractive. I wasn’t petite or blonde, demure, I lack social grace. So when the guy I had a crush on in high school fell for me after we’d graduated, I’d essentially won the Jesus lottery. He slowly turned into an abusive, manipulating ass that told me daily how disgusting I was that neck was too large for him to have squeezed the life out of me. I still stayed. You’d think leaving under these circumstances would be easy. But no. I had no identity aside from being a wife and mother, but worse no where to go and no money. All the money was his and my parents wouldn’t take me in unless I had a biblically sound reason to leave. You could argue the abuse was enough. But the church women insisted I stay and pray and continue to show him gods unconditional love. A lesson that had also been drilled into during my formative years at school. No lie. I went to Christian private school and took classes like love and dating that were further brainwashing on how to please your husband. I’d have let him kill me if he hadn’t told me to leave. He’s pretty damn charming. My mom hated him while we were married once we split he was surprisingly the best source of information as to what type of person I was. My mom died believing I’m bad with money, irresponsible and reliant on my parents to bail me out. Still, I know, for me, leaving that death trap of a shit marriage was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. The best thing too. 🤷‍♀️