There is a pesky little box that taunts me every time I fill out paperwork. DIVORCED. When I first separated from my ex-husband, I actually had nightmares about getting stuck in a jail cell after being mistakenly arrested. I couldn’t be released because I would cry all over the forms that were supposed to prove my identity, rendering them unreadable. Or I would have to write my information over and over again because the ink would disappear. Talk about my subconscious trying to send me a message.
I was terrified that divorced would be all you see.
It has taken me 3 years to really believe that “divorced” is not my identity. It is a decision that I made, a necessary and life-saving decision. It is a label attached to me. I don’t feel authentic if too many conversations go by without me mentioning it to new friends. But it isn’t WHO I AM. Just like I am not my job. I am not my hobbies. I am not my fashion style. I am not my dietary choices.
Labels much harder to let go of are useless, boring, stupid, fat, unwanted, unworthy, unlovable… The UNs go on for a while.
It’s heartbreaking how much my ex informed my beliefs about my identity. It sucks that he had so much control of how I saw myself. And still do sometimes. He found power in making me feel all the worst things I had already wondered about myself. He had a way of constructing it to be real. And now his actions leave me with an identity that I never wanted.
I am a victim.
Abuse has a ripple effect. The waves can seem miles away and yet, drowning me – waves of depression, anxiety, CPTSD, and mistaken identity. I’ve said it before – there is no “letting go of my past.” It is my was. It is my am. It is my will be. I don’t believe that I can fully heal in this lifetime. But I am on a journey of healing. I have learned that victim is not ONE word.
I am a victim:
Brave and with fear.
Capable and in need of help.
Strong and struggling.
Worthy and flawed.
Needing to be seen and needing cover.
Full of life and lacking energy.
Victorious and battling.
Powerful and weak.
Free and tethered.
Victim is not my only identity. I may be broken in my humanity, but I am made whole in Jesus. I have many facets of identity in Him. So do you. I can’t wait to share those with you in this post!
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