Strawberry Pancakes

I don’t really know how many years after the fact the importance of this morning became clear to me.

It wasn’t like I really thought about it after it happened; it was a blip in our relationship, and nothing I really paid any attention to.

I remember thinking her reaction was odd.

That’s about it.

Overly dramatic, maybe.

In the moment, it never occurred to me that she might have long lasting trauma from her previous relationship. I didn’t really know anything about domestic violence, or domestic abuse, because…

In my mind, I had rescued her from that.

It was over; she didn’t have to worry about it anymore, which meant she didn’t have to think about it anymore.

Obviously, I knew her history; hell, I’d seen her with a black eye.

It was real, and visceral, and horrible…

But, in my deluded mind, it was over.

I simply didn’t understand the lingering effects of domestic abuse.

I didn’t understand the psychological damage that remained long after the physical wounds healed.

Relationships are tough under the best of circumstances, so adding trauma to the mix makes things incredibly challenging.

For a while, I beat myself up a little over this mistake of mine; I even wondered if this was, in part, what led her to eventually cheat on me.

But, life has a way of working out.

This relationship taught me a lot of both good and bad, which I was then able to bring to my next relationship.

Two relationships later, and I was ready to be the man I needed to be in order to meet my wife.

I couldn’t have done that without the failed relationships that came before.

I don’t know if this woman ever worked through her past, and figured out how to be a kind, loving, and (most importantly) faithful partner in her own right.

I do know conventional wisdom says that an alcoholic has to hit rock bottom on their own in order to become sober.

She offered so many excuses and apologies for the one who hit her…

I hope it didn’t become a pattern she repeated.