Years ago, I parked the car.
It seems so innocent -so seemingly insignificant.
I went the wrong way... you know the arrows they paint on the parking lot asphalt? I ignored them. I giggled and ignored them. It was a typical Alicia thing to do. Alicia never follows the arrows.
In essence, if the arrow dictate what we SHOULD do, Alicia will probably giggle and go the other way which is why I never read Twilight.
Or Harry Potter.
But I digress...
My husband happened to be with me. He was irritated. As his irritation mounted, my giggling became nervous. As his irritation crossed the line to anger, my giggling quit.
I wasn't fitting perfectly into the parking spot because I had come in from the wrong direction. I was having to reverse, pull forward, reverse, pull forward...
In all honesty, if I had been with one of my girl friends, we would have laughed about it. And I could sense that in my gut. This was such a silly thing -such a laughable thing.
Why was he getting angry?
"It's not a big deal," I said, "You don't need to act like a jerk."
He got out of the car before I had finished parking, slammed the door and stormed off toward the store.
I didn't understand. I started to feel shame, guilt, fear.
When I caught up with him, I asked him what was wrong.
"I don't appreciated being called a jerk," he was still very angry. I began to cave.
"I didn't call you a jerk... I said you were acting like one. There's a difference. I don't think you're a jerk. You're a good man. I would never call YOU a jerk...Are you mad at me?"
I then went on to prove my love for him, which love I was sure would be enough to pull him out and away from porn.
It never did.
I think about that car parking incident from time to time.
My husband doesn't realize how controlling he can be. I don't think he conscientiously TRIES to control. But I can see it. I realize it, and I don't want any part of it anymore.
I want to go against the arrows.
I want him to trust me to run the house, the laundry, and the kids MY way when I'm in charge. I don't want to cower under pressure when I can tell he disapproves of my ways.
His ways, to him, are THE ways.
He's like math. One answer for every problem.
I'm like English. There's more than million ways to write the same sentence, and chances are I'm going to test them all out and use the one that strikes my fancy the mostest.
I'm tired of fearing my husband.
For the past few days, I was absolutely stark-raving ANGRY about this. Also: me being stark-raving angry is pretty unimpressive.
I gave the anger the place it needed and even went so far as to misuse it against my husband, something I rarely do because I'm too scared.
So in a way, raising my voice to him was a sort of sign and token that I'm shaking off my fear of my husband. And I'm not angry anymore. Not today.
Today I breathed.
Today I took a detox bath.
Today I listened to my detox bath music.
Today I rubbed essential oils all over my temples and neck and chest and wrists.
Today I'll ride horses with my kids while my husband is out of town. I'll eat homemade cinnamon rolls and I'll laugh and I'll do whatever it takes to keep the presence of angels 'round about me.
Heaven knows they chase the Dementors away.
Okay, so I watched the MOVIES... I just didn't read the books ;)