At the ripe age of 25, I found myself back in my parent’s home living in my little brother’s room that used to me mine. Jobless, carless, and basically penniless. It was painful. A hard core dose of reality. And it was embarrassing.
A big round of “What the fuck just happened?” followed but I knew this was actually the better place for me to be in.
My ex-husband with his lying, cheating, and abusive ways had slowly been breaking me apart and I got out in time. Sure it sucked a lot to start from scratch but I had something powerful to help me out. I had the support of a friend. A friend who became my confidant, my best friend, eventually my boyfriend and as of April 2011, my husband.
I don’t have life figured out and will never claim to. The only thing I can claim is in knowing I made the best decision possible for myself and my son to get out of hell and start anew.
This is my story.
