10/11/2025
Eleven weeks ago, I walked out of my house with nothing but my dog and a garbage bag of clothes. I didn't even take my phone charger because I was too scared he'd wake up and stop me from leaving.
For the first month, we stayed in my car. Me and this sweet boy who'd been my only source of comfort through three years of hell. I'd never lived alone before. Went straight from my parents' house to marriage at 22, and he made sure I believed I couldn't survive without him.
But look at us now.
This little apartment isn't much, but it's MINE. Every single piece of furniture I bought myself, set up myself, arranged exactly how I wanted. Nobody yells at me for putting pictures on the walls or tells me the couch is in the wrong spot.
The coffee table came from a garage sale for $20. The couch was a Facebook marketplace find. Those paper lanterns? I ordered them from a creative seller on the Tedooo app because I wanted something cheerful and colorful, and she made them in exactly the shades I asked for. Same with most of the art.
And yes, I have a Christmas tree in January. He never "allowed" me to decorate for holidays because it was "too much mess and money." So now I'm keeping this tree up all year long just because I can. My tree, my rules.
Some nights I still wake up in a panic, forgetting where I am. But then I see my dog sprawled out on OUR couch in OUR living room, completely relaxed for the first time in years, and I remember we're safe now.
I've started selling some handmade crafts on Tedooo to help with expenses, and it turns out I'm actually good at creating things when nobody's telling me I'm wasting time.
Freedom looks different for everyone. For me, it looks like a tiny apartment where nobody questions my Christmas tree choices.
