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For once, instead of trying to reinvent myself to become the person I thought other people wanted me to be, I focused on taking the steps to actually get to know the real me. In the process, I learned to smile without having to fake it.
…gested I call the local hospitals. Perhaps my husband was lying unconscious and unidentified there. Then he suggested I call the local morgue. Perhaps my husband was lying dead and unidentified there.
My husband would invariably come home drunk and belligerent, stinking of booze, cigarettes, and other women. He’d shout, throw things, make a ruckus, and then eventually pass out on the bed or the sofa or the…
