As counterintuitive as it may sound, the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to endure is witnessing my marriage transform from chaotic and traumatizing to something utterly different, something sacramental and holy. It’s surreal, to say the least. Talk about wandering into Wonderland and not being able to figure out the topsy-turvy landscape …
Isn’t this what nearly all individuals in traumatic relationships dream about, but so few actually achieve? My husband and I have beaten the odds, we’ve done what the secular world has told us can never happen; we’ve defeated the evil influence of abuse, we’ve embraced the Immaculate Heart of our Blessed Mother, who promised she would win souls for Christ and triumph in the final battle over marriages and families. I should be filled with joy that my husband has traveled the Road to Damascus rather than staying on the delusional Yellow Brick Road. And I am. Truly. But that doesn’t mean the transformation hasn’t been painful and without major bumps and downward slopes. It also doesn’t mean my wounds are instantly healed, that all trust has been regained, and that I can allow myself to be vulnerable to my husband’s newly discovered, self-giving love. Quite the opposite, in fact. The fence to my boundaries still remains necessarily closed. I must go slow. Even after nearly three years of healing and active change, I can’t quite trust again. And that’s ok. I’m full of grief, confusion, anger and frustration due to all I’ve endured during the course of our marriage. Now, with this positive turn of events, I feel anxious and wary of all I’m going to have to go through to do my part in restoring this bloody mess of a relationship.
0 Comments
|
AuthorI'm Jenny duBay, a domestic abuse survivor and now advocate. My degree is in Christian theology with a concentration on spiritual direction, and my vocational emphasis is on helping those who have suffered from domestic abuse to heal and reclaim their true selves. |