Conditional Love

Conditional Love does not equal Real Love

Conditional Love != Real Love

I was only loved by you conditionally. I had to forget my family. I had to turn my children away. I had to serve you and you alone. Then, I received little bits of something I labelled as love.

The moment I desired to be part of a family with my beloved children, you turned into a violent monster. Screaming, raging, name-calling, destroying our souls. What kind of monster are you? You don’t love me. You never did. I was so sick before I couldn’t see this truth, but now I do.

When we met, I believed you were the One! In my severe codependency, I actually believed you loved me. I believed you cared about my well-being. For my peace of mind, I required a family. I required that the damage done between my children and I be repaired. Not left to simmer, get infected, become poison. You wouldn’t allow me to heal the deepest wound a woman can have. The shattered bond between mama and child.

This makes me feel so sad. My friendship was absolutely betrayed. Just like the friendships of the past. You played the role so well. You became a monster like my father. A man who desired his wife to hate her children. So sick. So very sick. You cruelly broke my heart.

Though I heard the cruel words and felt the cruel blows, I didn’t believe you hated us. I mistakenly believed you loved me, and my dear family. That day in the truck when the evil you spewed rolled off your tongue so freely made me realize just how much you hate me. This is not love. Not ever.

Why am I choosing relationships with men who are capable of child abuse? Oh God, remove this character defect from me, I humbly pray. That in the future, if anyone becomes close to me again, help me practice discernment and only allow healthy and whole people in my world. Someone actively living a life of Recovery, working the Steps, reading the Literature, reaching out to others. This is the type of being I wish to attract into my world.



I want to learn to live

How did you become my father?

When I met you and we fell in love, I was so sure you were the man for me.

I believed you would never hurt me.

You told me sweet lies and I believed you were my friend, a real soul mate.

But you weren’t.

Not really.

The betrayal hurts me so much.

The evil words you spoke to me play over and over in my mind.

I keep seeing you over my head, drilling into my soul what a horrid person you believed me to be.

You knew how much it hurt I lost my family and you beat me down time and again because of it.

You put your hands around my throat to prevent me from coming to see my kids.

You punched my brain over and over when I needed a family.

All I wanted was a happy family.

I believed our dreams were the same.

But they weren’t.

You were not my friend. You were not my soul mate. You were not my true love. You were not a real husband.

Now I know why I always felt separate, kept apart.

It’s because we weren’t really a family.

We weren’t really a husband and his precious wife.

What we were was abuser and victim.

Though I make a poor victim.

I fight back, getting me hurt more than if I would just learn to submit.

But I can’t! I just can’t submit!

I am a Canadian woman and I have rights.

I have a right to learn to live.

I have a right to overcome a life (48 years) of domestic violence.

I want to learn to live.

God, teach me how to live.