I’m glad you wrote this. I had to leave my relationship of 19 years when it started getting abusive. I really hate how people blame me for it. They act like somehow I fucked up because my husband became abusive (after over nearly two decades of him being wonderful and supportive). How was I suppose to know that would happen? It was something new. There’s this assumption that a certain percentage of men are just abusers and as women we need to accept that and just wise up and be able to recognize abusers and not pick them. It takes the responsibility off of the abuser, ignores that women are often abusers too, and denies the nature of abuse, which can develop as well as always be there.

It can be very hard to leave, especially if the abusers is controlling. Mine tried to get me fired by harassing my job after I left. If he could have, he would have harassed the people I found to stay with, which for many women leaves them with less options for places to stay. He also harassed my parents, with the goal of cutting them off as part of my support network. In the most vulnerable times, I found people looking down on me, for having to start over, it’s not always easy, and honestly not always possible. But I am so happy with my new life.

I lost 85% of my stuff, and it’s mostly fine. However after I moved into my new, more permanent place, I was putting my stuff away, when I realized I never got my glass canister I used to hold tea. It’s such a simple dumb thing, I got it at a thrift store years ago and barely noticed it. But somehow, after all that happened, it was the thing I missed the most. I was so mad, and desperate to replace it. I had no idea why it was so important to me. It was like the one solid staple that I depended on and didn’t know it, and with its loss went my sense of normal.

Yeah I bought a new one, and agonized for months over which one to buy, but none were quite like that old one. I moved on, and am just fine with my new tea canister, but never expected such a simple thing I never paid attention to mean so much to me.
I guess you have a similar relationship to your salt shaker. I can see that. It’s something simple you use and rely every day, that somehow becomes a piece of the background and a sign you’re home and things are running as usual. The salt is there, you can cook dinner just like you always have. Sometimes those small objects become huge comforts when the world falls apart and so much trauma uproots your life.

Thanks again for writing this, it feels validating to me and what I went through.