The young woman outside her first office had no idea what lay ahead.
But she had been standing upright.
Smiling.
Certain that her future belonged to her.
I wanted to find her again.
And slowly, I did.
I started seeing a therapist who helped me recognize patterns I'd once mistaken for ordinary marital conflict.
I learned how easily affection could become entangled with control.
How repeated criticism could make someone distrust their own judgment.
How fear could survive even after the person who caused it was gone.
Some days, I felt strong.
Other days, a raised voice in a supermarket made my stomach clench.
Once, I spilled red wine at a friend's birthday dinner and froze so completely that I couldn't move.
My friend Elena noticed.
She quietly took the glass from my hand.
"Hey," she said. "You're here with us."
I nodded.
She handed me a napkin.
"No one's angry."
