11 years ago, my life changed drastically. For the better.
11 years ago, I did something I thought I’d never be able to.
11 years ago, I miraculously had enough courage to leave my abusive relationship. I did this in a way some may call “cowardly” (through a letter sent to him in jail), but I call “accessible”.
11 years ago, I was 17.
Today, I owe everything to the girl I was in March 2013.
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Each year, I acknowledge this day, March 11th, as the day my abuser didn’t win. As the day I chose myself, and everything changed for me. The truth is, I’m not sure if the 11th is the exact day I sent my ex that letter. The memories are fuzzy at best, (thanks, trauma), but I know it was around this date when I ended things. And back in 2018, when I was deep in cptsd and healing work, I had a dream where I was informed that “311 is my angel number.” From then on, 3/11 has been the day I choose to celebrate the fact that I’m still here.
Trauma anniversaries are complex. Over the years, I’ve learned not to expect 3/11 to be a perfect day of happiness and gratitude. Instead, I like to approach it as a day I dedicate to my inner teenage self, who was complicated, brilliant, terrified, traumatized, and hopeful. Instead of confining her, and myself, to a day that must be joyous, I let her guide the day according to her feelings and desires.
It’s usually a combination of joy, anger, grief, and pride, and today seems to be no different.
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