Hey, Sweet Soul

Hey sweet soul. 

Yes, you. 

You, clinging to the side of the mattress praying he doesn’t touch you.

You, making dinner with tears in your eyes and emptiness in your soul.

You, with your knotted stomach, clenched jaw, and tight shoulders, all of which are knotting, clenching, and tightening more as you pull into your driveway.

You, sitting in the room having mastered the art of numbly staring off, blocking out the sound of yelling til it sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher.

You, taking the “easy” way by  agreeing to whatever she says only for it still to not be enough.

I see you.

I know you.

I’ve been you.

And here’s what I know.

I know your story doesn’t end here.

I know your heart is good, your brain is smart, and your whole self is so much stronger than you feel.

I know that it’s exhausting and terrifying to get out, to do it on your own, to reconfigure life and livelihood, to relearn who you are. But, I also know that it is nothing . . .nothing . . . compared to the soul weariness you currently feel.

I know that you don’t even know. You know you feel like shit, but you don’t know why. You know something is “off”, but you don’t know what. You know you aren’t treated well, but you don’t even know to what extent. You know he’s kinda shitty, but you don’t know he’s abusive. You know she is exhausting, but you don’t know she’s manipulative. You know you want something different, but you don’t know something different exists.

I know it’s not your fault. I know you were targeted by a cunning shell of a person. I know others will wonder why you stayed, how you didn’t see it, what was wrong with you that you attracted this evil person in the first place. I know you might wonder those things yourself. And I know that those are the wrong questions to ask. There’s nothing wrong with you. You were targeted because you’re amazing and bright and full of life. A thief doesn’t rob an empty house. There’s something wrong with him, with her, with a society that subtly blames victims, but there’s nothing wrong with you.

I know that you feel alone. I know that you’ve forgotten what real intimacy and human connection can feel like. I know that you’re accustomed to the scraps and that you’ve been conditioned not to expect more.

And I know that you are not alone. There are thousands, millions, of us out here. Those of us who’re out, those of us still in the pit, and those of us somewhere in the middle of the climb. You are not alone.

And I know you deserve better. I know you can’t know it, but it exists. Real connection. Real people with real souls with real empathy and a real desire to see you thrive.

So, sweet soul. You’ve got this. You’ll make it. I see you and I know.