THE BOUNCE
“You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you.” – Walt Disney
The Fall
"BITCH!" I briefly saw my leftover pecan-crusted trout fly through the air as his booming voice erupted just outside of the restaurant. I quickly turned my back and started bolting down the street, frantic to escape. It was only moments ago that we were wrapping up a nice meal at one of the most popular restaurants in town before he erupted. I walked out of the restaurant too quickly—in front of him, not behind him. This was the tipping point that set him off. As I turned to face him outside of the restaurant entrance, he hurled the leftovers in my direction and screamed. As I ran down the street, I reached into my coat pocket and clutched my car keys in between my knuckles, clenching my fist just in case he caught up to me. Was he still angry? Was he remorseful? Tears started streaming down my face as I frantically tried to figure out how to get to my car, which was located in a private garage. "This is it," I thought to myself as he chased after me, "I need to get out." My boyfriend, whom I loved so much, was the most terrifying force I have ever reckoned with in my life.
The Impact
I hit bottom at my friend’s kitchen table on a Saturday evening. We were sitting around eating pizza, and my eyes were puffy from crying the night before. The fights were getting more explosive, more violent. I was exhausted and numb at this point—I simply didn’t care about anything anymore. My friend’s husband asked if I was okay. I sensed that it was nearing my time to unravel. That moment will forever be known as ‘the ugly cry’: the shaking, the snot, the hyperventilating, the salty, sticky tears soaking into my sleeves. I told him that for the first time, I was in fear for my life. He calmly told me that he was going to drive me over to my apartment, help me pack my bags, and that I was going to stay with them until I could relocate.
It took me six long months of trying to leave before I was able to escape the abusive relationship. I was finally free, yet a shell of my former self. I felt so broken—like a rag doll that had been tossed about carelessly and was ripping at the seams. I also felt angry, but mostly with myself. How could a strong, independent, intelligent young girl find herself drowning in such a toxic relationship? Why couldn't I muster up the strength to end it the moment I detected something wasn't right? For twelve months, I felt my confidence and vibrant personality being chipped away at and constantly scrutinized. I focused on figuring out what I was doing wrong. “Why are you always so chatty with folks?” Perhaps I was a bit too friendly to strangers. “You’re too unpredictable.” Maybe my spontaneity wasn't such a good quality after all. “You’re too smart to be a consultant.” I guess my job was really just a dead-end career for folks who aren’t interested in anything more exciting. I always took pride in having several irons in the fire, but maybe he was right when he told me that I was wasting time being a busy body.
I would give myself pep talks in the shower, envisioning what my life would be like if I had freedom. I would go on that trip I was planning before it was derailed by him saying that he needed me in town that week. I would enjoy time with my girlfriends at happy hour without a barrage of phone calls and text messages. I would reconnect with my alumni club which he despised so much. I would step out of the shower feeling braver, more solid, only to melt away again the moment he entered the room.
Hitting bottom bent me out of shape. My identity—who I thought I was—was morphed and tested. I remember collapsing to my knees in my living room wanting to just fall apart. Instead, I felt an urge to absorb my agony and use it to spring back up. I made the decision to use the smack of the impact to muster the focus, energy, and fight needed to become someone I would have never driven myself to be otherwise. Like a ball hitting the ground, the impact created the energetic force to launch me in an opposite and positive direction.
Restoration
All of those pep talks in the shower provided me with a game plan. I already had created a roadmap to follow for when I was feeling weak and lost. The morning after I got out, I booked a ticket to Austin, Texas to join friends for a half marathon. It didn’t matter that I never trained. All that mattered was that I putting one foot in front of the other.
Despite sticking to my recovery roadmap, I was still angry and embarrassed that I had allowed myself to endure such a miserable experience for so long. I felt incredibly ashamed! My release valve was sharing it with others, whether it was a tearful session with my counselor or venting to girlfriends over a bottle of wine. I also turned to something that assisted me in leaving the relationship in the first place: writing. When the first red flags appeared, I starting jotting down his words and actions, what my feelings were, and what triggered it. I compiled pages and pages of notes, like I was studying for an exam. I was slowly trying to build my argument for why I needed to leave—why I owed myself something better. Over time, these coping tools helped me stop mourning my former self and focus on the horizon and where I want to be.
Through the help of friends and domestic violence professionals, I realized that my identity was never defined in the fall, but rather in my ability to rebound decisively and restore my sense of purpose. I fought back against the impact, and slowly felt myself regaining shape again. I reconnected with friends, renewed my focus on my career, and poured my energy into training for my first triathlon. I developed a routine, cleaned up my diet, and scheduled my workouts just as I would a meeting. The stronger I felt physically, the more confident I felt in other areas of my life that were shattered by an unhealthy relationship.
Elevation
I started to rise again—even higher than I was before the fall. Experiencing all of that pain and hurt provided me with an opportunity to bounce. I started to focus on the things that I excelled at, and started to jump at new opportunities to get involved with activities I was curious about. I signed up for a Mandarin language class and began to attend networking events targeting entrepreneurs. Experiencing a tangible roadblock made me realize that any reservations or hurdles that prevented me from reaching for a lofty goal were purely imagined. I was my greatest critic and allowed self-doubt seep in. After the abuse, I turned that negative self-talk on its head. Why NOT try something I’ve never done before? After being beaten down and confined for so long, I had absolutely nothing to lose. With this awareness, I’m confident in knowing that the next time I slip and feel the wind of a fall, I can prepare myself for impact and get ready to bounce to new heights.