Real-life. “I've lived with a tyrannical husband my whole life”: When I decided to get a divorce, my children were against it

When my kids were little, I promised myself I would survive.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking at the photo frames on the shelf. In each one of them was us – smiling, perfect on the outside. But inside this house everything looked different. For thirty years I was the wife of a tyrant.

“You won't talk to him like that, you understand?!” – his voice still echoed in my head. Daily humiliation, control, psychological violence – that was my reality. Sometimes his hand even trembled. –It's your fault! You always ruin everything!” – he shouted. And I believed. I believed that maybe I could change something, maybe I could deserve love.

When my children were little, I promised myself that I would survive. For them. I thought they didn't notice. But they saw. They heard. We just never talked about it out loud.

When I decided to get a divorce, I thought it would be the start of a new life. But then I heard something that froze my blood.

„Mom, what are you doing? Dad always worked hard for this house!– my son said.

„He loves you, he always says it!– the daughter repeated. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. How could they not understand that? I had protected them my whole life, and now they were on his side.

“You really can't see it?!” – I asked with tears in my eyes. – How he treated me? How he abused me mentally and physically?!” But they just looked down.

The son said quietly: –Every family has problems. People live like that. Maybe you're exaggerating?”
My daughter looked at me reproachfully: –You can't do that! Divorce is a disgrace. What will the neighbors say? What will we tell our friends?”

I felt the ground slipping from under my feet. I was standing alone against the people for whom I had devoted my entire life. „Children, I can't live like this anymore– I said in a trembling voice. „Is your opinion more important than my life?”

My husband stood in the corner, smiling with satisfaction. „You see, Zosia? Even your own children are against you” – he said with a sneer. That was the moment I realized I couldn't count on anyone but myself.

That evening I packed a few things. “If you don't understand me, too bad,– I said to the children who were standing in the doorway. “But you will understand someday. And I hope you won't condemn me then.”

I closed the door behind me, feeling pain and relief at the same time. There, behind those walls, were years of fear and humiliation. There was uncertainty ahead of me, but for the first time in many years I felt a breath of freedom.

I knew that this was just the beginning of my fight. But in the end I was fighting for myself.

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