A letter to Mr. X

Dear Mr. X,

Greetings from the great State of Free Will. I’m sorry… did that sound like I was rubbing it in your face? It did? Good.

Really though, this letter isn’t meant to hurt you. This letter’s intended purpose isn’t meant to cause any response in you at all, actually. It’s for me. And it’s about time.

So often you told me I wasn’t good enough, skinny enough, pretty enough… or just plain enough for you. Which is what, I’m sure, you attempted to use to console your soul as you were doing the things you did to me. I was focusing on the wrong words for so long that I felt I deserved most of what you gave me. The words I focused on were “for you”. I concentrated on “for you” for so long that I forgot about the words ‘for me’.  What was good for me? Was your constant negativity toward my physical appearance good for me? Were the names you called me good for me? Were the fists and back hands to my face good for me? Or the blood that dropped from my nose, lips, and head good for me? What about the bruises no one could see under the layers of clothing I wore? Or how about the deep emotional bruises your words left long after the marks were gone from my skin? My guess… is you didn’t think about “for me”. I’m probably right.

I ignored the other women, the late nights, the alcohol, and the nightly agony you put me through. I couldn’t ignore the embarrassment and shame I felt when someone noticed a bruise. Their accusing eyes searching my face for the answer I would not give. They knew. I knew they knew… but my silence remained. Faithful, I was, to the promises you forced me to keep in your slobbering, slurring, and torture filled nights. Faithful, I was to you.  Faithful to me, you were not.

I also could not ignore the eyes of my children. Their eyes questioning and learning. Is this how a momma is to be treated? Each day I continue to pray to our Heavenly Father their young minds did not take notes. I pray that by your removal they will learn from me and not from you. They are beautiful. The only beauty and good in you… you gave to me. Thank you for them.  They are safe.

Your head was bowed low when the judge asked you to admit your actions. Yellow and Orange were never good colors on you.  The silver chains, though, fit you well. Two 1 – 15’s and four 0-5’s. Do you think that’s fair? I sat back, freedom and loved ones by my side, to hear the pounding of the hammer as the judge read your sentence out loud. I heard whispers saying “robbery”, “injustice” , and “an eye for an eye is what he deserves”. I don’t wish you harm and I never will. I like to think I’m better than you. And you just aren’t good enough, strong enough, or just plain enough… for me. For me.  

Sincerely,

The Single Momma

P.S. Please give my best to Bubba in cell C Maximum Security, who I’m sure, you’ve made great friends with.