PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE

I Opened the Door for a Narcissist and the Games Have Begun

If only I had listened to my gut

Photo by Corey Young on Unsplash

I watched her as she studied the notes she made about my case. Her pinky finger tapped on the grand, wooden desk. I knew what she was going to say before she said it.

“You need to reach out to his family and ask for his contact details. You have to do everything possible to find him and ask his permission.”

I left the lawyer’s office and headed to my car. Once safely inside, my face sank slowly into my hands. Minutes ticked by as I mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do.

There was no choice, I had to open the door. The door I’d worked so hard to close and seal shut with everything in my arsenal. The door that, if opened a fraction, would be kicked off its hinges.

I hadn’t spoken to my ex-husband for nine months. I had no idea where he was and had lost all contact with him. For that reason, among others, I wanted to change our daughter’s last name before she started school. I wanted her to share a name with me and the rest of my family, everyone she loves, and not carry around the name of the abusive father, who abandoned her.