LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“I remember always being alone in my room, barbies in hand, my parents screaming profanities at each other. ‘Where is all the money? How could you have spent it all?!’ My dad had an expensive drug habit that kept him awake for work. As a child, I learned that money meant I was invisible.”
“Things started to take a darker turn. I wasn’t allowed to go outside alone. He spread lies to my friends and family. When I gave birth, he wouldn’t let me see my child. He called 911 saying I was a danger to the baby. He got full custody.”
“Every single day, I feel resentment, sadness, frustration. I reminisce about my lost freedom. The days I would wake up with energy, pull out my to-do list, and get everything done. The days when I could hop in the car and run a quick errand, take a nap, or shower whenever I wanted. The days I could set BIG goals and actually attain them.”
“My heart stopped. It took the firefighters an unreasonably long to arrive (light years in mom panic mode). My son’s hairdresser came racing to the scene. And then there was a random mom who stopped and stayed with me. My husband made it in record time across town.”
“This all seemed too good to be true. I kept my guard up. When I went to his Facebook page to check his relationship status, I found something else. I sat up in bed and stopped breathing. I stared at my phone. ‘No,’ I cried. The words came out of my mouth as though someone else was saying them.”
“I found some elaborate way to share the news with my husband. The handcrafted note around our dog’s neck read, ‘Surprise! You’re going to be a father!’ Then a few weeks later, surprise you’re not. By the 3rd pregnancy, there was no special announcement. I didn’t buy a single item, not even a bib. How could I?”
“I didn’t have a car seat for my nephew. I couldn’t leave. I called everyone I knew. My sister came home and said, ‘You need to go NOW.’ When I arrived, I saw a security guard outside the front doors of the ER. I walked up. My head was spinning.”
“I couldn’t leave the kids alone with him. He couldn’t drive. No pick-ups, no drop-offs. Resentment built between us. We were told our children had a 50% chance of getting it too. All we could do was wait, and watch, and worry. It was too much to comprehend.”
“I didn’t know what to expect. I thought, ‘Where am I sleeping? Should my kids come visit? Can I get fresh air?’ I remember feeling like a lab rat. The doors were locked and I needed to be buzzed in and out. One day when eating, I felt a presence. It was him.”
“His arms wrapped around me and he started pulling me into an unlocked maintenance room. This man thought he killed me, but he failed. How do you explain to your kids, ‘Mommy is coming home, but I don’t look like myself?'”