14 Comments

Hello Ros. I'm planning to start a Substack and browsed for a writer I could support and enjoy. Your writing touched me deeply and I want to support your passion and transparent sharing. God bless you, your boys, and your writing. I stayed in a complicated, oppressive marriage for much longer than you did, but I am enjoying life in the open air today!

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Paula, thank you so much for your open-hearted generosity. I am so glad you are also enjoying a free life now.

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Wow! This brought back memories! Are you sure we weren’t married to the same man???

I’ve just done an interview with Dominic, director of Bournemouth Writing Festival where I go on about my luck when I was starting out - all my first works produced or published - but the underlying story was the crazy nastiness of the jealous man, a so-called artist, I was foolishly married to. I’ve never been able to relive it so as to write about it. But listen, we’ve both survived! Well done, you, and much happiness and to all those women who fall foul of these pathetic bully boys. We can now fly free! 🤝

Wishing you many happy days💐

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There are just so many very similar men. When it comes to coercive control they behave just the same. Mine in IT, yours in the arts, but they could be psychological twins. I hope more young women get wise to the signs.

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It’s difficult because they somehow present themselves as really needing us which draws us in and, too late, we realise were trapped. It takes two. This doesn’t change the role they play as hunter searching for his prey.

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This gave me goosebumps, Ros. And that house he took you too couldn’t look more like a prison! I’m looking forward to meeting the warrior.

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I love a physical reaction. I know, the house! I spent a little time hunting through photos yesterday and was glad to find a picture of it. It really was very grim. We paid an architect to do an aspirational drawing of how it could be extended and improved, but he never wanted to pay for the actual work to be done, so it still looks like this (with a different front door) to this day.

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The most traumatic thing that has happened to me is the half hour it has taken to let me enter anything here.

I set out to say that in my nearly 7&½ decades nothing really dreadful or genuinely traumatic has occurred. How can I ever be a writer?

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Lucky you! Though I have no idea why it took half an hour.

Does one need to suffer to be a writer? I have no idea. Probably depends what kind of writer you want to be. It has helped get a much deeper understanding of people than I had previously but maybe if I had loving, very conscious parents, you’d get the same result.

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Wow. I felt like I was reading my life there. Except in a different hemisphere, different continent, different context.

It’s many, many years since I re-found myself (took 2 years after we split for me to recognise me, that’s nearly 40 years ago).

And I don’t call him out publicly - not in any space where my (adult) kids would see. Mostly because they suffered enough through the “trauma years”, and they do now know what he is like. They have each formed their various relationships with him.

I like the sound of your challenge. I still struggle with emotional honesty I think. Too busy protecting people 😂.

I plan to retire from the day job next year, it just gets in the way of the rest of my life, but I kinda need the money 🤣.

Brewing inside me is a plan for writing (me and the 97%)…

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My "in the nick of time" coincidence was job related. I had been in a demanding position with an even more demanding, and controlling boss, and came to realise over time that it was not doing my health any good. I opened the newspaper the next day to see an ad for what I knew would be my next job. And it was. 🙂

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I really loved this one. The way you started writing again, absolutely heroic. Determined. Something that comes to mind, as I've had similar losses and recoveries: Don't want sound patronizing, but here's my personal etch-it-on-my-

gravestone quote: 'nothing is ever wasted'

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Unfortunately, people (particularly men) have a predatory radar that senses a lack of self confidence.

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They certainly do.

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