From the age of five to nineteen, I carried a secret fear that one of my parents would die at the hands of the other.

Not your typical childhood concern, is it?

I grew up a witness to domestic violence. I think that pretty much eliminates my childhood from the “typical” category.

No wonder I fell in love with him.

I say this to myself a lot, often followed by a long, drawn-out “duhhhhhh.”

And why?

Because whenever I’m tuned out, dismissed, or disrespected by someone, I immediately recall how amazing it felt to be, well... NOT tuned out, dismissed, or disrespected. I go back in time, to those past moments when someone made me feel,,,

They hurt you.

Badly.

And they never apologized.

But because you’re soft-hearted, understanding, sweet (on a good day), and were taught by Sister Mary Margaret and Father Monahan that “... they know not what they do,” you forgave them.