chayfeaster044
After her former high school "sweetheart" finally accepts her wishes and leaves the apartment she can barely afford on her own, Michigan wants to say he didn't take her dignity as well. But she finds dignity is hard to define and social acceptance isn't always the backup plan, even after a cataclysmic breakup. Through a series of flashbacks she tries to piece together what went wrong, graduate, and maybe not get fired. (Yes my doggys on the cover <3)
*dialogue is triggering
My mother is pacing, sensing the hesitancy in my momentary lapse of judgement and moving in like a viper to insert her mistrust into my shared dating experience.
"There's a disconnect, in victims of abuser's heads. Victims of abuse are over ten times more likely to be abused than women who have never been victims in the first place. It's because of the disconnect in their heads."
"There's a disconnect in your head," I rebut, unable to control myself any longer.
We've made it to the parking lot now and I feel stupid for thinking my mom could bear the weight of my joy and also my checkered past. I am a victim of abuse, too. Has she already forgotten?
She's realized that I'm heading for my car, to leave her frenzied cautions. She stands desperately in front of my driver's side door as I frantically pull out my keys.
"Look up Doctor Bedera. Look up Doctor Bedera. Women attack each other because of privilege. Because privileged women experience abuse less. It's the disconnect. It's the dis-"
I've turned tail before she could get around me and her prattling is cut short. I manage to get in the passenger door of my car and lock it behind me.
I get away fearfully, turning off onto a random trailhead that might hide my car part of the way down the mountain.
I had worried when I sat in Blaze's truck that night after the accident whether my own breathlessness might affect the baby. It comforted me to imagine she was nestled in my belly getting fed from her umbilical cord despite my panic attack.