As I walked down to the beach processing another financial loss, I let the anger roar through me. I ran into the water screaming “I wash my hands of you!”, physically scrubbing my arms like a surgeon before surgery. I kicked the waves. I shouted obscenities at the ocean. The waves crashing drowned out my voice. Between each wave as the sea receded, I felt it washing away the past. Through my incoherent swearing I screamed “I hate you”. And that’s when it hit me. I didn’t hate anyone else.
It was me I had hated.
None of the swearing coming out of my mouth made sense. At all. Then through my sobbing came uncontrollable laughter from deep inside.
That was the moment that I ‘got it’.
There is only one person who can set limits for me. There is only one person who can put my needs first. There is only one person who can take responsibility for what I allowed to happen.
Because in the moment that I took responsibility for my part in my relationship was the moment it changed. Forever...
An excerpt from Made Beautiful by Scars - real women's stories
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