Home At Last

I moved about 3 weeks ago and I have never felt better. For all of my life, I lived in abusive situations, first from my parents and then from my ex spouse. Every day was a balancing act of trying not to upset or anger anyone simply with my existence.

When I was little and upset, I would often repeat the phrase, “I want to go home.” My parents always got offended by that. But I never felt like the place I grew up in was my home. Home, to me, was a place I could be myself, where I felt safe. I never felt like that with my parents. I always felt like a burden or like being autistic was severely wrong.

I never felt like I was at home around my ex spouse, either. They took horrible advantage of me, but it was better than my parents, so I thought that was ok. One of my spouse’s favorite activities was causing me to have an autistic meltdown, and then screaming at me while I was on the floor, crying and non verbal. I was beyond burnt out with having to watch everything that came out of my mouth in case it was the “wrong” thing to say and would cause another screaming episode. Not exactly the picture of home sweet home.

Finally, I was rescued by my knight on a red Huffy. He showed me how I should be treated. Funnily enough, it involves respect. For the first time in my life, I am able to walk into my living domicile and not feel like I’m being threatened. I am able to put my guard down for the first time in my life and it feels absolutely marvelous. I have been able to cook, write, knit, and generally just experience my life. It took quite a few years, but I’m home at last.


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