Because sometimes the only way out is through the wreckage your courage creates.

Imagine a beautiful little family, handsome hardworking husband, attractive charismatic wife, two well behaved and attractive children. They live in a quaint little home on a tree lined street in a quiet neighborhood. From outside it all looks idyllic. But behind closed doors something else entirely exists.

Abuse.

One day after a particularly brutal attack, the wife sits on the perfectly waxed wood floor in the kitchen with tears streaming down her face but her expression is blank. She feels numb. She can trace the entire process in her head. The attack, the tearful apology, the forgiveness, the love bomb and then it starts over.

Then something bubbles up inside of her. Something that feels like determination and anger rolled into one. This is the last straw she concludes. With almost no feeling at all she picks up the phone and calls 911.

Half an hour later the husband is in handcuffs in the front yard with red and blue lights flashing off his face, contorted with fury.

“I hope you’re happy,” he spits. “If I go to jail, I’ll lose my job. Then what? You can’t take care of yourself or the kids. You’ll lose everything—and they’ll hate you for it.”

Then, everything he says comes true. She and her children must move into a shelter for their protection. The kids no longer have their safe rooms and their things about them. They go to school embarrassed and distraught. They just want to go home, for things to be how they used to be. Their reality is shattered. The delusion is exposed.

Her kids are, in fact, angry with her. This is all her fault. “Dad told me how much he loves you! He is trying his best!” They say. She goes to touch her daughters shoulder one night as she did homework and she cringes and recoils at her touch.

When you think about it, they are not wrong.

Your first reaction might be, “NO, of course it isn’t her fault.”

Let’s look at the facts. As long as she kept quiet nothing changed. If she had not called the police, he would not have been arrested, lost his job, and they all would have stayed in their carefully crafted illusion. Kids tucked in their beds, nothing would have changed.

We all have choices. She made a choice. She chose not to take it anymore. That single act of defiance set the dominoes in motion.

I had to make a similar choice at one point. My husband never hit me or got arrested. His abuse was hidden – so well hidden even I did not recognize it for what it was. I had been slowly acclimated to it. My life seemed normal. My kids still see it as normal. They were raised with it so they don’t understand how destructive emotional and mental abuse are. My choice set in motion a domino effect that ended much the way my fictional story ended. I lost everything.

My home, my financial security, my hometown, my children’s respect, my family as I knew it. BUT I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR THE CHOICE I MADE.

It IS my fault because I set things in motion.

I said “NO MORE”. I had too much self respect to let it continue once there was no hope.

I’m strong enough to take the blame for what he is too weak to own. Responsibility.

If you are ever in a position where you have to make a choice that you fear will destroy everything and be blamed by those you love the most – Accept it with pride.

You are not responsible. But, you are strong enough to carry the blame that comes with freedom from abuse.