Just Jo

It's a fair question, one that doesn't have a simple answer.  If my marriage was so awful, and my ex-husband abusive, why on earth did I stay?  I stayed for lots of reasons.  I stayed because I was afraid - of the unknown, of starting over, of being alone. I stayed because I wanted children. I stayed because I didn't want to admit failure. I stayed because "God hates divorce." I stayed because I made my bed, and now I had to lie in it. I stayed because everyone has problems, and no one's marriage is perfect. I stayed because I am stubborn. I stayed because relationships take work. I stayed because I thought I could save him. I stayed because I couldn't imagine my life any differently. I stayed because my children deserved to know their father. I stayed because I was scared of supporting them on my own. I stayed for a thousand reasons, but most of all I stayed because I believed him.  I believed him when he told me that no one el

Fear. That feeling, deep in the pit of your stomach, that something isn’t right. It’s a survival mechanism, an evolutionary trait meant to keep us safe and to spur us into action when necessary. Sometimes, though, fear can be paralyzing. Instead of fight or flight, fear can keep us stuck, trapped in the situation that makes us feel unsafe. I’m well versed in fear. If I’m honest with myself, fear has motivated many of my adult life decisions. Fear of the unknown, fear of starting over, fear of never having children, and then fear of being the sole caregiver for said children, all kept me in a marriage that made me miserable for far too long. Lately, though, my fear has shifted. I’ve conquered many of the fears that kept me immobile for so long. I’ve opened up about my journey, and my shame. Because I AM ashamed. I am angry, at myself, that I let fears of possibilities (never certainties) control my decisions for so long. Now, though, I’m living with a different fear - a very real on