I told

I told someone what they did.

I told that the people who were supposed to love me, scared me.
I told that the people who were supposed to teach me, lied.
I told that the people who were supposed to protect me, hurt me.
And they called those scary, painful lies love.
And they told me that if I told, other people would take me away and abuse me.
I believed them.
I didn't tell.

Until I did.

And I learned that love wasn't confusing.
Love didn't hurt.
Love was peace and trust and safety.

And it made me wonder: who else is loving me in a way that scares me? who else is loving me in a way that hurts? who else is confusing me with lies? And it made me want to get away from anyone even close to resembling that.

It made me want to get away from myself and my memories.

EMDR is helping.
Marital counseling is up next.

I'll never post this because it's too vulnerable. But part of me wants to anyway.