A Victim Filled Crime

By -
Originally written April 28, 2016, Edited March 2017

Nobody will ever know the truth. The facts as they happened. It's sad, really - to know that there are versions of my life that are out there, being thrown around. As if anyone could actually know the whole story. As if someone could look at my Facebook page and know who I am, or what I am like, or why I have made the decisions I have made.

I will say this - when I announced my separation, most everyone was surprised. Because, I didn't highlight the things about my life that were difficult. Who does? And this isn't just the age of Facebook.

Think about it - in the old days - when you would take pictures, print them out, and put them in a photo album, you didn't take pictures of the fights. You didn't have photos of the broken glass or the broken hearts. If you sat down in someone's living room and opened up their family album and you saw pictures of crying and screaming people on vacation, you'd think that family was crazy. No. Instead, we take pictures of the things we want to remember. We post memories of the good times. Because naturally we all want to be happy. We have hope that the good times will outnumber the bad times and that we will all live happily ever after.

So, how could anyone look at my life over the past year and think that he/she knows who I am? How can anyone determine what kind of person I am based off of pictures he/she sees or things he/she has heard? How bold and immature of someone to think he/she has any clue.

Sure, I write - I have this blog. And I put some of it out there. But even this - this is just a portion of who I am. It is not everything. Trust me, I have so much more.

And if anyone thinks that, by looking at my Facebook page and reading my blog, that he/she actually has any idea of who I am - he/she is a fool.
Some warnings come with signs. And some are
left to be discovered the hard way. (Crowder's
Mountain, NC- One of my happy places.)

But maybe he/she needs to make me who he/she thinks I am. It shouldn't hurt me. It shouldn't. But the reality is, if you knew the truth. If you saw the pictures on my phone or read the conversations in my email. If you were a fly on the wall of my life, you'd understand.

I'm not who you say I am.

I'm not who you want me to be.

So, go ahead and cut me down. Call me names. Accuse me of being the person you need me to be. But all the time spent blaming me for what happened, there is a reality that is being ignored.

And in the meantime, I have my memories. I know the truth. I have all of the evidence that I need to support my position - not a position of innocence - I never said that. But certainly not the manipulative predator I am made out to be.

I also, am a victim.

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