Remembering

I went for so long without purpose, without any reason for my existence that when I finally had an image of my own it felt unusual.
It was a welcomed change. I gave birth to children, cooked, cleaned and was my husbands on command sexual partner (lover). I saw the possibilities of who and what I could be in my sons eyes as he was growing up. As a stay at home mom we spent much time together so therefore we had an opportunity to learn so much from each other. I loved reading so I taught him to read. He could read and spell anything by the age of three. When his father beat me and I buried myself in misery I looked forward to us being alone because I knew my son one bring me out of it. My children are still the reason I am here. As a survivor of abuse I always need to feel grounded or connected otherwise I fail at surviving. I have no formal training of any kind. Everything I know is rooted from experience. I write from my gut and sometimes from my heart. The two are not connected, they can't be. The heart remembers the pain and the gut is the reminder.