As we approached fifteen years of marriage, he got meaner and meaner; he grew more and more critical of me. He made me feel like there was something wrong with me; like I was “less than.”
When we took the kids out to eat, he would wait for me to order, he wouldn’t say anything until the food arrived. Just as I put the fork to my mouth he would say it. “Should you really be eating that? Do you know how many calories are in that?”
Every time, and yet I didn’t expect it. When those words came out it was crushing. I would fight the tears and nibble on my salad, not touching the rest of it.
I thought there was something wrong with me. It wasn’t until much later that I realized it was him, not me.
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This is in response to a prompt on The Daily Post, to use the word “fork” for a post.
This breaks my heart because I have lived through something similar.. if this is true and not fiction, I hope you are out of this marriage.
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Yes, I’ve been out of it for some time now. Funny thing is I didn’t see it as abusive until much later when everything fell into place.
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I am so happy to hear you are out of that relationship, Corina… yeah, I didn’t think mine was either until I’d been in therapy for over a year and finally opened up to my therapist.
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Jackass!
Barbara, blogging at Life & Faith in Caneyhead
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😆
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I’m glad you’re out of it x
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