It has been five years since the sociopath was arrested and I was set free. Five years of growth, of change, of healing.
Five years of pain and sorrow leading the way to laughter and joy, abundance and gratitude.
Five years after the ending of that debacle, I am grateful that I no longer have to think about him, or worry about him, or do things because of him, or even for him.
Five years of growing into doing for me. Living for me. Turning up for me without fear.
What a difference time makes.
As I look back to those days when my life was narrowly defined by what he wanted, he said, he needed, he dictated, I am in awe of how far I’ve come, by how much has changed.
I am in awe.
Of who I have become, who I am, how I’ve changed.
In these five years I have found my voice and claimed my right to use it proudly. Sure, I had a voice before the sociopath rode in. And, I had a voice while with him. Even before him however, I never truly knew how to use my voice. I never truly knew the unique qualities of my voice.
When I met him, he told me how sweet my voice sounded. I believed him and asked him to tell me more. And he did. Beautiful, round, plump words of affirmation that seduced me with the sound of his voice echoing my words. And then, time moved on and his words became bitter and harsh. The sound of my voice irritated him and frightened me. I grew silent. Afraid. Lost. In my silence, I lost my ability to speak up, to voice my feelings, my thoughts, my ideas. I lost my ability to recognize my very own unique voice.
Five years since the moment of his arrest, I have found my voice again.
Hear me roar.
My voice is no longer a dulcet tone sweetly singing a serenade befitting his promises of love everlasting. Of gentle words calling out for his love undying, his love forever more. My voice is no longer a plaintive ode running away from the truth of his deceit and my betrayal ringing loud and clear through every note.
Today, my voice is a mighty roar. It is power. It is strength. It is courage. It is my truth spoken in love because I have the courage to stand up for me and speak without fear of ever being judged unlovable, unwanted, unworthy.
I am worthy.
Today, my voice is a song of freedom. Pure. Clear. Powerful. My voice carries. It carries me through tough times, hard times, over rocky ground and inclement weather.
My voice is strong. My voice is the sound of me standing up for what I believe in, what I desire, what I deserve. My voice is speaking up for me and speaking out against that which I cannot stand up for without fearing ridicule or dissension. With my voice I know, disagreement does not equal rejection. With my truth spoken clearly, I no longer reject my voice or allow it to be turned off by someone else’s assertions that they hold the only truth I need to hear.
My voice is fearless. My voice is caring. My voice is loving. My voice is unique.
Long ago I lost my voice beneath the sadness of loving a man whom I did not deserve. Long ago, I buried my voice beneath the sorrow of loving a man who was untrue.
No more.
Today, I claim my right to speak up. To be heard. To be counted on and counted in. Today, I let go of searching for meaning in someone else’s words because I know my own truth. When I speak for who I am and what I believe in, I am free to live in love with all of me. Fearlessly. Effortlessly. With grace and ease.
Once upon a time, I lost my voice. Today, I speak up, passionately, courageously, fearlessly. In having moved away from those days of loathing the sound of my own voice, I know what was can never be because what was with him was only fantasy.
Today, I step fearlessly into the truth. My voice is unique. Hear me roar.
And in my voice, I invite you to claim your truth as well. Your voice is unique. Let it roar.
Dear Beverly:
Me too. Most of the time I’m up and then once in a blue, blue, blue moon I’m down. I guess it’s inevitable after reading what most people have blogged about. It triggers memories. Memories that we all have, but I am trying to put that positive spin on it as if to say “you treated us like a joke, well, guess what, we can treat you like it’s all fun and games too”. I’m trying to get to that place like “X” who? That the name sounds familiar, but you can’t quit picture the name and the face together. That’s how I want to be about all of this. I’m getting there. I’m in the mid 90 range 2 years down the road. Another less than 10% to go and I’m out over the ball park. Should have done what my dad told me to do in my teens, about my life not being like baseball, it’s not 3 strikes and you are out. How could I even make the call if he didn’t show any psycho qualities. He built a better mouse trap. Not acting like one.. It does break my heart though … knowing that he can never love.
I had to grow a set of balls because of my ex’s anti social behaviours. I now believe my balls are bigger than his and I am very pround of this! The start of my recovery happened when the IRS started their investigation on him. He hadn’t filed a tax return since 1978 and is up to a $300,000 balance. The Securities and Exhange Commission is investigating him and the company he worked for 10 years. Seems he was selling securities without a license. He is now out of a job and last I checked nobody was answering phones at his office and their web site account was suspended. The local county tax collector’s office went back 3 years and it seems he filed fraudulant homestead. They doubled his taxes for the last 3 years. This whack job finally got what he deserves!
Cheryl,
I celebrate the above with you. Yay!
Sometimes, if we just wait, their dirty deeds close in on them. :o)
Dear Cheryl,
I agree with Aloha, I also celebrate when someone’s P gets Justice–their just reward for their deeds.
Not all of us get that, or get it only partly, but some skate away “Scot-Free” without receiving their “reward.” At least in this life time!
I like your comment about having to “grow a set of balls”–LOL back when I was working the larger pair of steers my sons and my friends used to tease me that I had a “set of four brass balls” because I had mounted large (golf ball sized) brass balls on the tips of the steer’s horns when we did parades and exhibitions. (I didn’t leave them on all the time as they would have rubbed them off on trees)
There seems to be a societal difference of opinon in how women act vs men.
In a man it is “assertiveness” and in a woman it is “aggressiveness.”
In a man it is “standing up for himself” and in a woman it is “being demanding”
Etc etc.
Yea, I’ve got BRASS BALLS and I’m proud of them!! Wanna See’em, I’ll show’em to you! I’ll back up if I can, but if you push me into a hole and keep pushing, I’ll come out like a mad mamma badger, all teeth and toenails.
Okay, this almost made me cry! Amen!
Beautifully written!
Something very ironic hit me about this one. The very first thing that my ex spath ever said to me was, “Wow! You have such a lively voice!”
I was slacking off on my “one article per day” rule, but I’ve got back into it the past few days. Glad I have, too! I need to keep this information flowing into my mind on a constant basis so that it sinks deep and sticks, transforms my thoughts and helps me grow/heal.
RAWR!
I think it’s more than 1 in 25. These people are rampant.
Panther, I didn’t get if you were ONLY reading one article per day or Only letting yourself read one (and no more) articles per day….there were about 700 articles the last time I had a number on them but that has been quite a while back, so with new articles coming out nearly every day now for a while, no telling how many there are now—a thousand? But most can be read in two or three minutes, but you need time to PONDER on them as well. So if you can manage the time, I encourage you to read several articles per day as well as the current new ones.
———–trying to get the posts to show up. The blog is buggy this morning.
Hi Ox. Actually, it was “one a day” minimum. I usually read 5-10 per day, but on occasion I miss day or two because I’m more wrapped up in the comments section talking to people. A couple times I got busy with work.
But I think 1 per day should be the bare minimum, I meant.
Yes, I intend to finish the entire blog and then keep up with reading as new ones arrive.
Panther I have tried to read EVERY article on here at least once, and did it systematically…but every once in a while someone will dig up and repost on the recent list one of the old ones I have not seen. The very old articles I think are particularly good and I can’t say I have seen any that aren’t good here at all, but some are 12s on a scale of 1-10. LOL