One morning, my boyfriend of nine years began yelling at my daughter, and I, who had been told to stay out of all matters between them, couldn’t stand it anymore. I insisted that he stop that instant or we were through. He wouldn’t, didn’t think he had to, and actually thought that he had the right. It was my boiling point. It was too much and I didn’t want my daughter to suffer anymore. I made a decision on the spot to leave, to move out and take my children with me.
In a very short amount of time, I had packed, arranged for movers, and was gone. My older daughter went along with it, but she was angry about the disruption. But I couldn’t leave her behind. We’ve been out of that living arrangement for more than a year, and we’ve been through even more than I ever thought, and there have been many revelations.
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