I was screaming at the top of my lungs in the Blazer the other day. My husband and I were getting into another of our more frequent rows, but unlike other times, this one got pretty intense. Extremely intense. It started kind of small, but quickly grew as both of us finally said what we had been bottling up for years and years…

Basically this. Only in our Blazer, sitting side by side.

He was yelling at me about something, we were both yelling — and just like that I’d had enough and no words left. And when I screamed I didn’t feel afraid or out of control. I jerked the cork out of the bottle, letting years of shaken-up contents explode and fall gushing over us both. He asked me Do you feel better now?

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Yes… I think?

You see, we are in the midst of an upheaval like never before in our marriage, and we’re learning to fight on equal footing. It’s crazy and intense and brutally, brutally, excruciatingly…


I’m standing up to him and he’s being real with me. We’re staring each other in the face and fighting it out. And we’re embracing after it’s over and done and we’re taking deep, shuddering breaths. Appalled. Amazed. Thankful.

But this post isn’t really about marriage. It’s about confidence. It’s about finding my feet strong under me, my eyes fixed instead of roving. It’s about what can happen when we’re open to change… to growing… to facing our demons and screaming in their faces, making them bow and leave.

It’s about where I never thought I’d be. It’s about seeing myself as strong for the first time in my life, and not letting anyone or anything push me down or tell me I’m less-than.

It’s about learning I’m worth the work it takes to stand on my own, to stand as equals not just with my husband but with anyone and everyone standing in front of me.

It’s about standing on my own two feet and roaring in the face of anyone who seeks to violate me, whether emotionally, spiritually, or physically. You don’t have the right to violate me. I won’t be a victim. I will stand for what’s right. Protecting myself — all of me — is worth it.

As for that fight in the truck? Well it led to a deep and meaningful counseling session with a friend, where we were broken open and more honest than we’d ever been with each other. We are worth fighting for, and we’ve got each other’s backs. And I stand arm-in-arm with him because I finally see myself as equal.

I am standing on my own two feet, a whole person. A person worth fighting for.

So can you.

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