Chapter 7 - The Things That Made Us Feel Safe
From THX Series Hub: The Narcissist’s Playbook & The Life After
A Portrait of Healing in the Smallest Moments
Author’s Note: This post reflects on everyday life after leaving an abusive relationship. It is not about drama or survival, but about the quiet, ordinary rituals that became sacred. Please read gently, and take what you need.
People ask me what healing looked like.
Not the therapy sessions. Not the legal papers. Not the breaking free.
What did it look like once we were free?
And the answer is this:
It looked like me dancing in the kitchen.
Barefoot. Off-beat. Laughing harder than I had in years—while my daughters recorded me and shouted encouragement like I was headlining Madison Square Garden.
It looked like Saturday morning brunches, stacked with pancakes and tangents, animal documentaries interrupted every five minutes by neurodivergent fact-bombing and spontaneous storytelling.
It looked like backcountry road trips with the windows down—even in winter—metal playlists cranked, our voices louder than the engine, the turns in the road syncing with the rhythm of our freedom.
It looked like late-night ice cream runs and early morning coffee pickups (quietly done while the girls slept in).
It looked like familiar Thai food. Craved Greek food. Inside jokes.
Long hugs. Thousands of “I love yous.”
It looked like this question, whispered at the right time:
“How are you doing? Do you want me to just be here with you?”
Sometimes, that was everything.
But it wasn’t just those golden moments.
It was the real life beneath them.
It was:
Homework assignments and cramming for tests.
Driving across town to make it to sports, clubs, or volunteer shifts.
Sitting on bleachers in the cold because they wanted me there.
Filling out forms. Signing permission slips.
Running to CVS at 10pm for poster board.
Volunteering for service projects because they cared about the world.
Making them dinner between Zoom calls and client deadlines.
Studying financial forecasts at 1am because I had businesses to rebuild after COVID hit us like a tidal wave.
Wiping down groceries with sanitizing wipes. Taking every symptom seriously.
Carrying the weight of every cost: tuition, rent, medical care, therapy… and still being the one they counted on to show up emotionally.
And I did.
I showed up. Over and over.
Not perfectly, but fully.
Present. Accountable. Safe.
This is what most people don’t understand about healing:
It’s not about “moving on.” It’s about moving through—with your whole self.
We didn’t heal in a straight line.
We healed in the in-between moments.
In the unglamorous acts of showing up again and again, with love and laughter, even when we were tired.
We healed in the normal.
Because for a long time, normal was the most dangerous place we knew.
And so when people ask me what healing looked like?
It looked like this:
An apartment that turned into a home.
A life filled not with perfection, but with presence.
A family rediscovering who we chose to be to one another—and to ourselves.
Reflection Prompt
What are the quiet rituals that have carried you through?
What does safety look like when no one’s watching?
Because those are the moments that matter most.
