Life, I Swear by Chloe Dulce Louvouezo

Author:Chloe Dulce Louvouezo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Design
Published: 2021-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

Photograph by MF.Jonez from Marsh Kove Media

When the procedure was over, two nurses walked me back to the waiting room, one of my arms draped over each of their shoulders. Our seats were empty; Guy had left. The toes of my shoes dragged on the dusty gravel as the nurses carried me outside, where he sat in the dark in his car. He barely lifted a finger as they positioned me in the front seat and closed the door behind me. For the next thirty minutes of the ride home, he berated me with slurs and vulgarity. He filled the car with words that disparaged, desperate to assign blame for not keeping the pregnancy because it was easier than accepting that I didn’t want to water another one of his rotten seeds. He no longer had me hooked, and his lack of control and supremacy over me left him unhinged. But the anesthesia crippled me, and I didn’t have the strength or consciousness to refute. I reclined my seat and stared at the passing trees as his shouting rang echoes in the car and drowned out the radio. He returned me home in pieces—heart and body shattered.

It took me years to recover from that day and that relationship. The entanglement of codependency and abuse created a compromising relationship with myself. The trauma I carried with me from it lay dormant until more of my whole self was needed to nurture the prospect of new budding relationships and friendships. I hadn’t recognized it as trauma until escapism and distrust became patterns that distracted me from sitting deeply with the impact the shame had on my esteem. I needed to name my trauma and bring meaning to it in order to recognize my own self-worth. I needed to see past the parts of my story that I wasn’t proud of in order to make amends with the young woman that environment fostered. I needed to forgive myself for being a product of my insecurities and of the longing for love I once had. I needed to wrap myself around she who was once shattered, until my own warmth mended my wounds.

I needed to see past the parts of my story that I wasn’t proud of in order to make amends with the young woman that environment fostered.

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