I Didn’t Leave Because I Was Brave. I Left Because I Had To.
People talk about leaving abusive relationships like it’s a moment of clarity. But for me, it was survival. I didn’t leave my daughter’s father because I was ready. I left because I couldn’t stay and still be a mother. I couldn’t stay and still be alive.
There was no clean break. No triumphant exit. Just a quiet decision made in the middle of chaos.
I didn’t feel brave. I felt broken. But I left. And that’s enough.
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If this post resonated, here are a few others that might meet you where you are:
Cutting Off My Mother Wasn’t the End. It Was the Beginning: For the moment when estrangement becomes survival, and the quiet clarity of choosing peace over performance.
I Don’t Know How to Repair This, But I Want To: For the tension between longing and self-protection, and the ache of wanting healing without knowing how to begin.
I’m Still Becoming, But I’m No Longer Hiding: For the quiet strength of staying gone, and the soft reclamation of identity after rupture.
You’re not alone in this. Keep exploring at your own pace.