Coming to Your Own Rescue

When I was a little girl, I ready stories like Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty, damsels in distress who were rescued when a knight in shining armor came rushing in to rescue them. As I entered my adult life, I found the concepts of those stories influencing my decisions. They set the tone for how I handled situations that caused me suffering.

I stayed in an emotionally abusive relationship for twenty years waiting for a force outside myself to change my reality. I watched it deteriorate from just emotional abuse to including physical abuse while I pined away for my knight to come riding in on a white stallion to rescue me.

At some point in that relationship, something shifted for me and I moved from victim waiting for rescue to an empowered woman who claimed her own victory.

A few weeks ago a friend and I, who have both experienced those shifts, were exploring those transitions. Both of us have seen ourselves make the shift, but as we were discussing it, we weren't sure what triggered that transition.

In the days since she and I talked, I have spent a good deal of time thinking about my own experience, trying to understand the process. And while I know the list isn't exhaustive, I thought I'd share it with you and hope you might share what you've found helpful in your own journeys to a state of triumph.

Stand in My Truth

Before I could even contemplate coming to my own rescue, I first had to be honest with myself about how I felt and what I wanted. I had to own it.

I remember a few years before I left my abusive relationship, how the thought, "I want a divorce," would pop into my head. And I would quickly squelch it. It wasn't until I owned those feelings, that I could start to shift into seeking a better life.

Willing to Risk

I have a large mural hanging in my living room. It shows a rickety bridge – aged wooden slats held together by worn rope; a rope railing along each of the sides with holes big enough that if the bridge tipped, you could fall through. The fog is so thick you can’t even see what is below and there appears to be no end to the bridge. As you reach the middle of the bridge, however, you can start to see the outline of a mighty oak tree flourishing on the other side.

For me, this picture is representative of my journey. The dangerous, miserable situation I called home, felt comfortable. Taking action called me to move from status quo to an uncertain, unknown future. The path I would have to follow was rickety. It swayed and tipped and it wouldn't have taken much for me to lose my balance. Before I could continue, before I could start to see the possibilities that lay before me, I had to get to a place where I was willing to take the risk.

Watching the patterns of abuse increase in frequency and intensity prompted me to take my first step on to that wobbly bridge. Having my son beg me to take him anywhere so he could escape the stressful environment of our home when his father was home drove me to take several more steps. And finally, when my son told me he had confided in the school counselor, I found myself figuring out how I would get the two of us to the other side of the bridge.

See the Bigger Picture

There were many points in this process, I considered going back. This change was so big and so unnerving, it would have been convenient to give up. Connecting my actions to a the bigger picture reinforced my decision and helped keep me putting one foot in front of the other. 

I my situation, I didn't want to jeopardize my son's well being. I didn't want harm coming to him. And on top of those concerns, I started to notice significant, positive changes in him. Before we had left, he had major nightmares almost every night. It wasn't too long after we had moved out, his nightmares had all but ceased. By the end of our first year on our own, his confidence had grown and his fears had diminished. I didn't want to risk undoing these gains.

It has been almost four years since I started this journey. And while it has been challenging. I'm so glad I chose to cross that bridge in my life and move into a space where my son and I could thrive.