I love checking my TimeHop and seeing the differences made over the years, however small they may be. Maybe it’s a new job, a new favorite music artist, a new friend, but always a difference, nonetheless. However, today’s posts on TimeHop weren’t what I was used to seeing and immediately upon seeing them, my stomach dropped. I can remember the particular day these two pictures were taken. Seeing them and the memories that come back make my heart hurt. I was in an abusive relationship. As I’m sitting here, having just typed that sentence and staring at it, there is a feeling and a rush of emotions I can’t quite explain. Back then, a year ago, the pictures I’m seeing now were results of fights that were part of a daily routine. It was normal.

Growing up, as a girl, we are educated on the signs of someone who is abusive; we are warned of what to expect if we get into a relationship with those people, how easy it is to get “stuck” in the relationship, the “good days” after an altercation, why and how we should and can get away and how sadly, if we don’t leave soon enough, it can tragically end. And then, after all of these talks and lessons, we think to ourselves, “I will never be that girl.” Admit it, you’ve said it. I know I have.

And then I was that girl. All of those years I swore I never would be, and then I was. During the relationship, mostly abuse and cheating, everyone was always telling me to leave him, leave him, leave him -- begging me to, actually. But I was in love. The relationship, the abuse, lasted two whole years. There were good times, followed by bad; bad always followed the good. But I stayed. No matter how bad the bad was, I stayed. And then, one day, I woke up and wasn’t in love with him anymore; I was disgusted by everything he had done to me and how long I’d put up with it. I had finally had enough. It was hard; after all, for almost two years I was told daily how no one would ever love me, I'd never find anyone who would “put up with me,” that I was unlovable. But I left anyway.

Here I am, almost eight months after moving nine hours from where he was (we had been broken up before this, but we lived in the same town); waking up on a Friday morning, watching the sunrise, with a day full of things I enjoy, in a beautiful town surrounded by good friends, no bruises on my body, no one threatening me, and happy.

I hesitated writing this for everyone to read because while it was all happening, I didn't advertise it, and thought this would hurt my family to know what I went through, what I was put through. But, I wrote it. I wrote this in hopes that if one person in some sort of abusive relationship reads it, they will know there's life after the abuse, and it's a beautiful one, too. I'm yelling at you from the top of my lungs: it is worth it to leave. Do it. Be selfish. It’s OK to rid yourself of toxic people, no matter how badly they make you feel about it. Because, as much as those pictures pain me to see, I am so happy they were a year ago and not life today.