The Monster Within

"Why do women cry?" he questioned with false brovado in his voice.

"Why does anyone cry? Everyone has their reasons, but I don't know her or what you guys were talking about so I cannot offer my opinion." I suggested.

"Women cry when they are cheating or hiding something," he was very sure of himself with this statement.

I scoffed, not at all surprised by his response, because, he always thought that I was the same way whenever I cried. I was always, "guilty" or "hiding something" or both. When I had a miscarriage, I killed the baby; when I was raped, I was asking for it. When he chased me through his apartment and slammed the door with the thunder of his fist near my face, I provoked him.

It was in this moment, this phone call when he was talking about another woman, that I truly realized what he is: a monster.

I do not know how or why he ended up this way, but I know what a monster looks like. He's handsome, charming and makes you feel like the only one in the room, but that's just the beginning. Slowly but surely his insecurites come through; in the way he asks who you are talking to or where you are at all hours of the day. In the way he calls in the middle of the night, to make sure that you are home and not out "doing something stupid." In the way he makes you feel so small and insignificant and the way he plays the victim.

That is the worst part. How is everything my fault? How do I need to change this much? why can't I talk to my family, my friends? And why does no one love me but him?

Everyone has their flaws, and everyone makes mistakes, and I have certainly had my share. I am not perfect and I have been a monster myself. I have lied, cheated, and had outbursts because I was unaware of all that was happening. And then I met him, and I changed all of that. I was a new woman. I found my power within; like a surge of adrenaline, fighting against my inner monsters and this outer one.

When you finally find your strength and your worth, you will no longer be pushed around. And guess what? It does not matter that he thinks that you are the monster, because, the true monsters, skulk in the daylight, preying on the weak. But you, are not weak. He is. He is weak. And you, you are strong.

Real monsters, do not realize they're monsters, and they certainly don't realize who they are messing with.