The moment I began to realise that he didn’t really love me was when I left the vicarage with two broken ribs. The breakthrough that I needed to report him came when I heard that he had set up a young church group, and I saw a photo of him with a group of kids, some of whom were the younger sisters of my high school friends.
Reporting him was difficult, as I felt guilty because he had given me opportunities to improve some areas of my life and had supported me in that. I felt alone when the majority of the people at that church stopped talking to me (including the mothers and grandmothers of those young children), wishing that I had just kept silent.
At first this depressed me. But I had another breakthrough in therapy when I understood that the people who had stayed with me were the ones who truly loved me, and whilst it was ok to mourn the loss of the relationships I no longer had, they didn’t truly care for me anyway. It’s better to let those kinds of people go, and enjoy the relationships of the fewer in number but the greater in strength and caringness.
Responding to the Daily Prompt Breakthrough