I hung in my toxic marriage, in part, because I am blind and did not want to have to face a reality of me having to go back to fending for myself. I’m not close to my family, and even if I was, they live on the other side of the country. In my case, I have to work twice as hard to get hired; to be seen as a viable partner and provider; to be thought of as competent enough to parent, let alone take care of myself; and if I get pissed off, I can’t just jump in my car and hit the road. Five years later, I am financially competitive in one of the country’s most expensive markets, but the bigger accomplishment was getting the hell out. The lesser point here is things could be worse. The primary takeaway, however, is that it’s time to give yourself permission to change the narrative. Focus less on what went wrong, what you could be doing better, and more on what makes you grin, what makes you a successful writer on Medium, what makes you resonate at your core that is completely independent of any man who may or may not enter your life. Misery loves company. At some point though, it’s time to get up and let misery figure itself out. You’ve got shit to do. Just a gentle reminder that it’s time to get to it. :)