It Was Twelve Years Ago

Twelve years ago this week, give or take, I packed a bag and walked out on my husband. I almost couldn’t find a place to stay but eventually stayed in a hotel for a week.

We  had decided to separate the week before and I had an apartment to go to although it wasn’t ready (hence the hotel).

But what made me pack a bag and walk out at 10 pm on a Friday evening was that I came home to a furious man that, in the midst of our argument, called me a fucking cunt.

He was never very kind to me. He called me chubsie ubsie throughout our relationship .  I practically exercised myself to death to be a size 4. He found something else to be unhappy about with me when I reached that “goal”.

I finally found the strength to leave and was getting my ducks in a row to make that happen. Having a well paying job smoothed the fears. (Those without the financial means to leave but do  it anyway are my heroes.)

Calling me a fucking cunt effectively  rent our marriage in two. As if the other slights weren’t enough, that phrase drove home that my husband, a man I loved, had no respect for me.

It was the one thing that kept me from caving and going back to him each time he asked me to come home. (Later on there was more to keep me away but those things were icing on the divorce cake.)

Today I saw this article on Twitter by Glennon Doyle Melton and it gave me the bravery to come out and say loudly that if any man ever calls you a cunt – RUN AWAY. It is not a word that can be said with a wink and a nod. It is not a word that IMO can be embraced by women and taken back from men. It is a word that should be eradicated from our collective vocabulary. And men that use it need to be schooled in its hurtful disrespect of women.


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