For those who don’t know the background of this story, I posted a few months ago about my abusive piece of poo father, adding that despite knowing he was abusive and toxic for my health, I found it hard to let go and cut him off.
Well, things have happened.
I was on holiday with my boyfriend when my father kept calling, despite me having told him I was on holiday and would not be able to talk, but would keep in touch by email. Needless to say, he didn’t respect my boundary and called twice in the space of an hour. I ignored the first call (because it was 8 am and I need my sleep), the second was missed. He sent me a text, followed by a long email in which he said that I should think twice about ignoring him and that he could cut me off in the blink of an eye with no remorse, and I would be nothing without him and have a mediocre life.
This sounds cliché, but I had a sort of epiphany: I had been listening to Lana Del Rey’s song Get Free, and the quote “I never really noticed that I had to decide/To play someone’s game/ Or live my own life” had struck a chord in me. It finally dawned on me that he would never change and never accept me or who I am. The relationship would always be about his wants and needs and entitlement, never mine. And I could both try in vain to get him to understand me and prove my love and worth to him, and let him chip away at my identity, or take the biggest leap of faith of my life. It was either losing him or losing myself. And I chose myself. (Selfish, I know.)
I wish I could say that it’s been great, but cutting off an abuser is not the end, it’s only the beginning and it’s scary as hell. I have a whole grieving process to go through, not to mention healing from everything he did, which is not a walk in the park. I am terrified of proving him right, and regretting my decision, and ending up having the mediocre life he’s predicted for me. He’s also been sending me horrible emails with death threats and whatnot, but for the first time, it doesn’t hit me the way it used to. The peace of mind from not dreading a call or an entitled whine, and having the time and energy to devote to finding my own identity without him hovering over me and taking credit for everything I do, is so worth it.
I guess freedom can never be mediocre.
