My husband is amazing.
I mean I always knew that. For reals. He would hafta be in order to marry a finicky girl like me. But last night, something happened. Something intense, terrifying (for me), and very much needed.
Ya see... I'm not perfect. Nor am I the girl that I portray. I am a victim of abuse and I never realized how much of that I was holding onto. I am no longer a struggling victim of abuse... I am surviving, striving, and dammit, I will succeed and not let it control my life and my every thought. Of course, I will be aware of it. I will constantly hafta work at it. I'm not saying that it's magically going to be gone for forever without work.
But now, I have hope that someday, I'll be able to say- full of confidence- that I did not let it beat me. I am a woman of hope, faith, and love... and I will show that to everyone I meet, and no longer am I a woman of fear, unbelief, and hurt. I. AM. STRONG.
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