A new look on the past

It's such a beautiful experience developing a friendship with Her.  She gets the small stories.  The wonders.  The demon voices.  We experienced different aspects of his monstrosity.  But nonetheless, survivors of the insanity of an unhealthy environment.  I am having to relive memories.  I am going back 6 years worth of memories trying to make sense of them from a different perspective.  It's cathartic and slightly depressing at times because I don't know what was real or not, if anything.  Or maybe that it was real but that part of trying to understand how a person can love me...and hurt me so much.  I couldn't understand a friend saying I was a delicate flower.  But as I stepped back to really understand what they were saying it dawned on me.  If I think too much of how delicate I really am...I might just surrender to the pain that has been stuck inside of me for so long.  And that's why it's hard to cry.  or I beat myself up for it.  I'm afraid if I just let go and cry this out I will really have to face that horror.  That horror of someone telling me almost every day how truly stupid and unworthy I was.  I'm off.  I'm ditzy.  The truth is it was easier to let him say it then explain my developmental disability has me process things at a slower or different pace.  I still process at a different pace these days but I have learned how to get through conversations and reading much better.  It's why I hunger for learning.  It's why I am fascinated by words.  And excitedly and happily accept when someone wants to have an intellectual conversation.  I feed off of that learning.  It's like recharging my soul.  One of the things I finally admitted aloud which I have been denying...even to myself.  I love him.  Not loved him.  I never stopped loving him.  He was a big part of how I grew up.  Much of the person I came to be was because he wanted this person of me and I rebelled and wouldn't show it was truly in me.  He didn't deserve to see the beautiful person I am.  I may swear and be raunchy and sometimes be the most inappropriate person. I am like this even with parents lol.  I am unapologetic for the person I have become.  Take me or leave me.  I want to be authentic me.  I am most of the time.  I temper myself because I'm an accommodating person or that the most tactful thing is not to fully reveal my authentic self.  But for the select few that get to see the raw and beautiful mess that I am...they are the lucky few.  I don't hide myself from them.  I don't have to.  I am free to be me.  And that is a beautiful feeling.  His voice fights my new voices.  My husband and one of my best friends occupy that space more.  But here and there when I dismiss the contribution I bring to the world...there he is.  His voice telling me they're lying.  That it's not possible for them to see that I am this intelligent being.  That my insight is incredible.  That men would revel in my mind...as much as my body.  I'm imagining things.  If he couldn't see it...why would these men who are accomplished and intelligent see that in me? But every day I fight that voice.  Every day I wake up and say...You're not going to win, Javier.  My best revenge is living a full life.  At this point...yes I am crying...but I don't even apologize for that.  Thanks, JB lol I need the metaphorical kick in the a$$.  This new reprogramming of my mindset will take time.  26 years of that will not go away overnight.  But I am having a new look on the past.  And I am ready to change that perspective.