Why am I finally talking about the abusive marriage I’ve been in for ten years? 

You know, every time before I post another one of these posts, I get scared. Scared to ruin my perfect bubble. Scared that tell the actual truth and that if I do, not only will you not believe me, but if you do believe me, will you resent me for keeping it from you? 

I mean, I don’t know just know that I started telling the truth out of self preservation. I was starting to feel a little like it was me, hi— I’m the problem— and let me be clear— you don’t get pinned down to the floor and strangled until you lose consciousness by being a quiet girl who keeps her opinion to herself. But then when this happened, I realized that keeping this to myself was the reason nobody had known enough to help me. 

Friends suspected here and there. They took care of me when they could. Made sure I had a soft place to land, etc. but I was able to compartmentalize things and honestly that worked best because it means I didn’t have to drop this entire burden on anyone. 

And that’s a really hard part. It feels so big that when I do drop a burden on someone, it feels really, really one sided in the friendship. 

And to all those friends that didn’t care about the lopsidedness, and want me to keep dropping these big old burden bombs on them, honestly I’m sorry and I freaking love you. 

But still I don’t want to burden you more than I have to. 

I’m a big girl. I got this. 

I think. 

I’m going to keep talking. 

The biggest, most powerful thing you can do for me right now? 

Listen. Believe me, and hear me. That is what I need right now. That is what I needed from my support system. Please.