Opting Out

Opting Out

My husband’s aunt sent us a YouTube of Andy Stanley talking about relationships. She told me to hear it. She did a Sunday School series of his.

I mentioned to her about how S had said that daddy yelled a lot. She repeated to hear the marriage sermon. That I had opted out of everything else. This burned. I’ve sat through numerous counseling sessions where the counselor has said I’ve done everything I can do. I’ve over analyzed and over thought this. I’ve had friend after friend that has said leave. I’ve stayed, and in the process opted out of quite a few things.

I desperately wanted to move to the country. I wanted a smaller, but decent sized house (2500 or so sq ft). I wanted the kids to have plenty of area to roam on. To be able to explore the outdoors. To be able to run and play. Instead, I got a big house in the city. I opted out of the peace and solitude that the country brings when I married him.

When looking for that house, I wanted a tornado shelter. A safe room. A basement. Somewhere that would be safe when storms hit. Now that we have kids, especially three of them, this is really important to me. We can’t all fit in a little half bath. I opted out of basic safety when I married him.

Countless nights I have made the dinner and cleaned up afterwards. Instead of being able to sit down and eat myself, I’ve made sure everyone has enough food to eat, enough to drink, clean up spills, etc. I don’t have the time or energy to eat myself. In doing so, I’ve opted out of health and taking care of myself.

I remember being curled up in my bedroom, in tears. Him yelling at me. I should be lucky that someone like him has chosen to stay with someone like me. He reminded me (again) that no one would want me if I left. I remember praying that one of the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops on his yelling. I opted out of self esteem. Over and over again.

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