I am having a great week. My STBEx has gone on holiday and the girls and I have the house to ourselves.  We are enjoying the freedom: the freedom to use the washing machine when we want to, the freedom to put rubbish in the bin, the freedom to sit in the living room and chat in the evenings. I am enjoying having my own room and bed (the one that was ours but then became his as he pushed me out of it – both metaphorically and physically); I am enjoying have constant access to my possessions; I am enjoying not being on edge, waiting for him and his angry moods to descend like a black cloud on our lives.  I am lighting candles, watching TV, reading my book, chatting with my daughters. They are making plans to have friends round.

We are being NORMAL.

Only for us, this isn’t normal.  This freedom is exciting, intoxicating, relaxing.

We haven’t asked for much from our family life. We only want simple things, simple things like candles, books, TV, friends, a bed to sleep in.

This week really brings it home to me how absurd my situation is. How what the girls and I want is not unreasonable like he makes it seem. It’s NORMAL.

I’m not sure I’m making sense.

I am so looking forward to my future.

A future without him.

Freedom.

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