A Moment of Reflection
While washing windows, a thought struck me.
Depression creeps in quietly. If I hadn’t gone through two years of therapy, I would still be floating, stuck in autopilot mode. Now, I recognise it—I see it reflected in my surroundings.
I finally understand why people who are abused, in any form, often don’t see a way out. As an outsider, I once watched my sister endure both physical and psychological abuse from her husband. I wanted her to see what I saw, to run from her situation. When words failed, I tried a different approach. I took her on trips, hoping a change of scenery would help. I bought her beautiful clothes to make sure she looked and felt powerful at work. She embraced that, it empowered her. But outside of work, she was still battling her demons.
Now, I look at myself. I am aware—I am ready to break free. But certain limitations hold me back. One thing I know for sure: I am surrounded by warriors. God is carrying me, fighting this battle on my behalf. I am tired of defending myself. I have no energy left to give. Yet, when I look at this war, I see a lion and a bird. God is the lion. I think back to how strong I was in advertising, sales, business development, and product launches. I looked the part, I delivered.
But after 2014, I started slipping away from my strengths. It all began when I discovered Gomora and Ngcoli’s relationship right under my roof, right under my nose. I ignored my intuition, dismissed the signs, and allowed doubt to take hold. The truth was there, woven into songs and subtle signals.
Stress began to chip away at me. Silence, fear of judgment, and shame consumed me. Anger festered. Sickness crept in, eating away at my very being. My chest felt heavy. I only found relief when I returned to work on contract. There, I rediscovered the joy of being alive and financially independent.
I stopped answering his calls. I struggled with how to end this chapter of my life. I wished someone would hold up a mirror and tell me that I wasn’t myself anymore. Eventually, he lost his grip on me. He felt it. He felt weak.
But this was never about him. This was my time to heal, to rebuild. I wasn’t there to settle scores. The playing field was never even, so I let him play alone. He didn’t even notice my absence. His ego blinded him. The truth is, I was never on that field with him in the first place.
Dissecting my pain, my hurt, and the lies I once believed became surreal. My home, once a place of comfort, felt like a cramped one-bedroom. My loved ones, my friends, and my family have done their best to lift my spirit. It’s not about whether the journey is easy. No one promised ease. The real question is: how?
How do I map my way forward? How do I peel away the layers until I am free? I don’t want to run from my pain I want to understand it, to face it, to conquer it. I may be at a crossroads, but I am not lost. I know exactly where I am going. I am being led by the Holy Spirit. I am grateful for the friends who encourage me after I have first encouraged myself. They make me laugh, they make me dance, they remind me to look up and see the stars.
I am not at 100% yet. My hands ache from all the physical work I have been doing. Pain courses through me, but I fight on. The devil will not take over my body, my mind, or my soul. This battle is not mine alone. During Lent, Jesus was tested in the wilderness for 40 days. He conquered the devil. My victory belongs to Him.
Every encounter in life teaches me something new. People are complex; they change constantly. Understanding a person truly understanding them is never easy. I am hurting. But even through the pain, I feel love from within. I am grateful to be living under God’s grace. I am not afraid of standing before judges or magistrates. My mother’s words echo in my mind: All people belong to God. We are all human. He created us. Never fear people.
I don’t know if I’m in the middle of a divorce or nearing the end. But I do know this: I am walking toward freedom.
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