Guilt No More

“Why do I feel guilty? I should be jumping for joy. I should be head over heels that I had the actual guts to stand up to Tim today. I was the only one that knew 100% that I was going to follow through with it. I guess in some fucked up way, I can thank my mother for manipulating me into those horrific, triggering, moments with Tim. I knew I had the power to overcome him. The only person that has your back, all the time, is yourself. I am proud of myself for standing up against Tim, however, I find myself feeling bad for him.”

I wrote this the night after my trial of April of last year. I’ve never had so many emotions come dwindling into my mind, body, and soul.

And the most spectacular part of it all, I felt genuinely happy. Like smile from ear to ear happy. And it was all because I finally faced my truth. I faced my abuser. And with my head held quite high I might add.

Now it wasn’t because Justice was served that day. Quite frankly, the Justice System is plain and simple, the biggest piece of shit. And it saddens me that this is how America truly is. Protecting the wrong people at all times, including violators.

Tim only received 12 months of probation, no-contact order, and a fine. Even with concrete evidence. It was, of course, his first offense, and since I wasn’t a minor, under the court of law, Tim deserves another chance at life. Absolute bullshit.

But honestly, it never mattered to me what happened that day in the courtroom. I knew the outcome wasn’t going to be what I hoped. I am just so damn overly joyed that I had the courage, the actual courage, to stand up on that witness stand and tell Tim that he no longer had the power over me.

But through all of the happiness, I found myself terribly sad for Tim. I knew in my gut that what I did was the right act, but my heart would melt at the thought of him. No matter if the love was deserved or not, Tim was still my father. And I hurt my father. The whole situation is just downright heartbreaking.

And the fucked up part of it all, I wanted to apologize to him for what I did wrong.

Fuck, hardcore manipulation at its finest.

But over time, with lots of tears in between, I realized that I was grieving my father. I was grieving the man that raised me. There were happy moments of my childhood, not every memory was quite horrible.

Sadly, Tim is just a very sick man who’s mental illness took the best of him. He’s not well, and never will be because of the others around him. Denial is the key to their so-called happiness.

And you know what, I am okay with that. That is the life my parents decided to have and I am happy they chose to move on without me. I actually have a true chance of happiness.

So to those struggling on whether to speak up, the best advice I give to you, is never lose sight of who you are and what you want. Don’t listen to the critics around you, and focus on what you need. You’re the only one that has your back 110%.

And if you’re struggling with trusting yourself, then take a step back, take a deep breathe, and remind yourself how fucking badass you truly are. You’re beyond strong and can conquer any obstacle that comes your way. I promise you. You are destined for greatness, you yourself just have to believe it first.