“I love you”, Randy said as he hugged me tight. “Our home is a safe space for you.”
I thought about that sentence for a long time. Other than when I was growing up, anywhere I lived was never a safe space for me. I’ve dated guys that cheated on me, manipulated me, and the worst was when I was married. It didn’t take long before I realized that he wasn’t my safe space, but when you have small children, you can’t just pack up and leave. I was called derogatory names for years. (Worthless, selfish, b*tch, a bad mom, etc) Nothing was good enough for him. It got to the point where when I heard his key in the lock, my stomach would drop, and I would get nauseous. I never knew which version of husband I would get that day. Would I have cleaned well enough? Did I make the right dinner? Were the kids’ toys cleaned up? I learned quickly what would set him off right away, but most of the time it didn’t matter. If one thing was right, then five things were wrong. I rarely looked forward to him coming home, because that meant that I would spend most of the evening walking on eggshells wondering what he would say to hurt me next. Thank god he worked two jobs. The less time I was anxious and stressed, the better.
We finally divorced, he put me out onto the street (literally, I was sleeping on a friend’s couch for a while because I had nowhere to go) I didn’t have the kids (because I had nowhere to go, I couldn’t exactly bring them with me. That’s one of the only regrets I have in life.) and I spent the next 7 1/2 years bouncing around from friend’s house to friend’s house to live. It took me quite a few years to learn that it wasn’t my fault he was like that; it was him. His personality. He’ll never change.
In October of 2019, I met someone who would completely blow every past relationship of mine out of the water. While we were talking and in the “getting to know you stage”, I told him that I love Christmas lights. Driving around with hot chocolate, listening to Christmas music and finding houses with the best lights is a holiday favorite of mine. He said, “We should go to Bentleyville sometime.” I had never even heard of it, so in typical Tina fashion, I shrugged and said, “Sure.”, not thinking it would actually happen, because people say stuff like that all the time. We picked a day, and drove up to Duluth. I was NOT prepared for the ginormous display of lights, and this guy who thought so much of me in less than two months of dating that he drove me almost three hours just to see some lights. I was looking up at the display, and I started getting emotional and choked up. He’ll never let me live that down. “Remember the first time we went to Bentleyville, and you cried?” ð Vividly. ð
Still, I tried my hardest to push him away. I mean, don’t all relationships eventually end? I won’t get hurt as much that way. We had struggles, as all couples do, but fast forward four years, and we’re living our best lives together. My stomach doesn’t drop when he gets home. I go outside and meet him to give him hugs and kisses because after he’s been gone for 6 days, we actually miss each other ðĪŠ We cook together, do laundry together, and have fun. We’ve taken many trips to Duluth, went to Vegas and then drove to LA for a baseball game. We’ve spent days antiquing, going to thrift stores, having bonfires, watching football games, going to many baseball games, and counting Corvettes. We spend time with all of our kids (I can’t wait until Emily gets the chance to meet everyone!), each other’s siblings, and other family members.
All I know is, I never knew that safe spaces existed until I had one. ð
