Moving the line.

My Ex called me yesterday.

I did not pick up at first. I finished what I was doing.

This is a behavior I taught myself as I learned the idea of boundaries. That this person, who inevitably brings a whirlwind into my life, doesn’t get my time or energy until I say so.

He called to explain that he is in a lot of trouble and to ask for a favor. He needed to ask and know: “Did I ever hit you?”

He has not ever hit me. That would have made things so clear. We lived in the muddled colors and shadows of behaviors I could not name.

Abuse was suppose to be physical. I should have bruises. I had not one mark you could see.

He told me he threw a wallet. He shouted he’ll burn his house down. He grabbed a phone from her hands.

His fear and pain and anger and shame swirled so big and large that he granted himself permission to share it, spread it, and make choices dictated by it. He does not know how to make peace.

I wrote about the time I had to duck (https://lettersfordaughters.com/2019/09/17/pb-j/). About how I never wanted our daughter to ever have to experience that. Never mind twice.

I am processing the fact that this stranger my daughter spent time with had to duck, too. No glass shattered there. No sticky goo on the wall as a reminder.

What reminders do their walls hold? Does the house have marks that bodies don’t? Did his question, levied to prove a certain point, mean that he did cross the line he swears he would never and leave mark on skin?

I don’t know. I wasn’t there. He wants my ghost to put it it on paper. I bore no marks the naked eye could see.

He wanted a written testimonial for his trial. He’s indicted for A&B on a family member, intimidation of a witness, and threat to commit a crime. There is restraining order. His new daughter will be fatherless in her second year of life– just like M was.

“Did I ever hit you?”

That question is loaded. It is where his question brought me less than 24 hours later:

May my daughter and this stranger’s girls live a life where they are never asked this question. May we teach them to walk away from all that I tolerated so their hard stop is not whether or not their skin is bruised. May they know, regardless of the doubt a person may plant in their ears, that you are free to leave always. You do not have to be afraid if your life will crumble. That is not a scary thing, but the thing that will bring you closer to yourself.

Love should not be held in only one hand while the other holds secrets, pain, and harm. Wait for the person who loves you with both hands. May you learn this from my mistakes. May I show you all the pain the world so you recognize it. May I show you that even though it lives beside us, there is so many beautiful things that outlive and outshine the darkness. May I teach you how to make light for yourself and others when times are hard.

I wonder if my thick file, my reports, my quiet queries at police stations made it easier for her. Will her path be better because I’ve been laying mine and M’s for so long. Will all those papers and pain be shared and witnessed beside hers? Will this show the pattern so our children don’t endure it?

If my quiet life does one thing, may it somehow bring the end of us teaching each other that the line we should watch out for is, “Did he hit you?” It seems to be a thing that needs to be changed in this world. The line we should watch out for comes far before this clear cut one.

May our daughters never love a person who has to ask them, “Did I ever hit you?”

I hope. I pray. I work. I share to bring that truth into existence.