My last posts were angry and powerless and upset. I felt betrayed, alone, weak.
I feel different, so different now.
I have broken a pattern. I have done something so brave I want to tell everyone about it. I feel like I’m changing again- another layer of the chrysalis peeling away.
I am in America with J.
I flew to meet him, an eight hour rough-and-tumble through cotton clouds to the place he calls home. His face lit up when he saw me, his smile the anchor I have been waiting so desperately for. I ran to him, dropped my case, threw hungry arms round him and sighed in relief.
He treats me like a princess. He calls me doll, and hon, and baby. I’m not used to these Americanisms, but in his smooth drawl they rock my world. He strokes my hair, holds me if I’m frightened.
He makes me laugh so hard. He took me to meet his friends and my usual terror vanished, and I slotted right in there with them. I felt happy and peaceful, and I feel like my old self.
That girl I love who is not shattered into a million fragments of the past.
I burn when he touches me. I’ve felt that since Florida, but memories of the painful past and images of trauma used to flood my mind and prevent my natural boldness from surfacing. He understands that. Even better, I lead, I command, I control. He asks me to, he tells me I have to say if I am upset or frightened.
The first time we lay between sheets together, I cried in happiness when it was over. My body thrilled, my mind rejoiced with it. I am free of the vicious chains of abuse, and it feels like I am healing some of the deepest hurts I have suffered. He asked me if I was sure. He held me as I cried, and told me I didn’t need to apologise for crying. He knew I needed the comfort and he gave it to me.
I am safe here.
He is my knight in shining armour, this brave man. Despite his own demons, he helps me tackle mine.