Finding a place to call my own home was a dream come true. I loved every minute of the house hunt. It made me realize how confident I am in knowing what I want and how to effectively communicate it. When my therapist asked, ‘Why is this important to you?’ I didn’t have to think hard to answer, ‘I’ve never had a space I could feel safe in, a stable home that I could call mine or truly belong to. This will be the first space I can truly call my home. It’s not about materialism; for me, it signifies a safe space where I belong.’

Kevin was supportive, yet he had reservations about me buying a home by myself. He felt like he couldn’t contribute to the process, but I genuinely appreciated his presence and opinions. The moment we stepped into the house, we could envision living a good life in it. I could already picture where everything would go, and above all, it was in a community that felt just right. So, despite the 45-minute drive from my apartment, I knew it was the right home to move for.

Moving was hectic, but we made it here and made it our own. We found great spots for Iris to hang out and a spot for Nacho & Cheese (our chinchillas we adopted together) in their cage. Everything went smoothly until our HVAC system stopped working a week after we moved in. The home inspection had shown it would stop working soon, but I thought it would be at least a few months after I bought the house. Thankfully, due to the home warranty, I had to pay very little to get it fixed.

Kevin was still unemployed, and although he started getting a few calls from recruiters, they wouldn’t lead anywhere. I could see his frustration. I suggested he find a job in another field while continuing his full-time job search. I nudged him into finding part-time jobs or some way to keep himself busy instead of being on video games religiously. It had always been a complaint of mine that his video game time seemed to take precedence over the time we spent together. And even when we were together, he’d be on his phone scrolling through Facebook or watching videos of video game players. I started feeling like I wasn’t a priority, and that my ideas weren’t valued.

On the other hand, I started doing much better in the new home. I even had fewer trauma nightmares since we moved in. It really felt like my subconscious started to believe I was safe. I started making friends in the community, and things were going well for me. However, our relationship started going downhill. Both of us seemed to have reached a point where we could no longer support each other during our lowest moments. When I got triggered, instead of support, he resorted to belittling me and labeling my behaviors, walking away and saying, ‘It’s not my problem.’ It was very hurtful.

When he had a relapse, I could no longer support him. Instead, I started pointing out the things he hadn’t done that could have prevented it from getting that far. I started feeling like I was taking on too much responsibility. Paying for everything for over six months was a big deal. When we started fighting and he became aggressive, I started standing up for myself (feeling safe in the house was a huge factor). Since neither of us stepped back, the fights became bigger.

One day, while I was speaking to him about something that upset me, he took my moving finger and started bending it backward, causing me pain, and I screamed. It shook him out of his aggression, and he started apologizing for his behavior. But I didn’t feel safe with him for a while after that. Another day, while I was cooking in the middle of a fight, he grabbed the ladle from my hand and twisted my arm to take it from me. I don’t know what stopped me from letting go of the ladle, but I held onto it long enough for my hands to start hurting. I had a huge moment of shock: ‘What is happening right now? This is physical aggression at its core.’ I dropped the ladle and walked away.

Our couples counselor brought it to his attention that if I were to get hurt, he could be in jail for abuse. He also suggested that I walk away anytime I see him becoming aggressive or tense. He asked us to work together, not against each other, and to give each other space when one asks for it, with the understanding that we would hang out again at a given time.

As time went on, I started having serious doubts about our relationship. He stopped supporting me when I needed comforting, and I stopped suggesting anything to help improve his job search or his situation as I felt dismissed. We stopped doing the little things that made each other feel cared for.

I wanted to change it all. I believed some time away from home could do us some good. He agreed, so I went ahead and made reservations in a very scenic town we were going to drive down to. However, things didn’t go as planned, and my hope for making things better would only last a little while.