After seven years, my surname never changed. Two years into the relationship, I realized more was expected of me than anyone else in the household(see above list and take into account my facetious nature). Not only did I hold down a full time job as the VP of Operations for a small, international business the first 5 of the aforementioned years, I attended college and received a Master’s Degree in English.
Imagine this: An insecure girl of 24; a bull-headed girl-scout(with a boy-scouts education); An old soul with a heart of gold–thrust into the throngs of motherhood with an up-and-coming alcoholic by her side.
While in school, I was too overwhelmed to notice how neglected and mentally abusive things were getting at home. Yet I persisted.
I was a DAMN GOOD WIFE and MOTHER.
We were engaged for 4 years, prior to my escape. I don’t know if there are new dents in truck doors; I don’t know if there are new pictures, covering fist-sized holes-in-walls; I don’t know why I startle, when I’m asked to check “single” or “divorced”.