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We filed the necessary reports. Margaret even agreed to testify, acknowledging the patterns she had ignored for years.
Today, I’m writing this from a small apartment I pay for myself. The bruise has faded, and though the emotional scars take longer, I feel stronger than I ever expected.
And I am certain of one thing:
Leaving was the first step toward reclaiming my life.
To anyone reading this, I want to ask a sincere question:
If you were in my place—after that first slap, that first betrayal—what would you have done?
Sometimes all someone needs to take the first step is knowing they’re not alone.
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