Chapter 23 - MY MISTAKES
Therapy eventually forced me past David.
Into myself.
I had known something was wrong long before I installed the red phone.
First shove:
I stayed.
First lie to urgent care:
I protected him.
First photograph:
I let him keep it.
First time Margaret said Emma should live with her if I “couldn’t handle marriage”:
I laughed.
First strange trust document:
I ignored it.
Why?
Fear.
Love.
Habit.
Money.
Embarrassment.
And one thing I hated admitting:
Pride.
I was Sarah Carlisle Bennett.
Beautiful, people said.
Educated.
Financially secure.
I believed abused women were trapped by things I did not have.
No money.
No support.
No options.
I had money.
A brother twenty minutes away.
An attorney.
A trustee.
A car.
I still stayed.
That destroyed my old arrogance.
Abuse does not require absence of exits.
It can make exits feel impossible.
Still, I had choices.
When I finally used them, I did so partly because Emma was watching.
That scared me.
One therapy session I said:
“I should have left for myself.”
Dr. Levin answered:
“You left when you could.”
“I could earlier.”
“Maybe.”
“No. I could.”
She let me own it.
Important.
Then:
“Can you be responsible for delaying without becoming responsible for his violence?”
Yes.
Hard.
Yes.
I apologized to Emma when she was seven.
Not dramatically.
“You saw things I wish you hadn’t.”
She said:
“Daddy yelling?”
“Yes.”
“Pushing?”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
“I should have gotten us somewhere safe sooner.”
Emma thought.
“But you did four.”
Eventually.
“Yes.”
She hugged me.
Not absolution.
May you like
A child’s love.
I did not ask her to forgive what she had not chosen.
