"I need a warrior woman... You're a butterfly."

"I need a warrior woman. You're a butterfly."

Of everything that was said this weekend, I think that hurt me the most. Not because being compared to a butterfly is an insult, but because after everything I've survived, it felt like my strength was being dismissed.

I AM a warrior.

I'm the woman who survived an abusive childhood, the streets, addiction, rape, a pedophile husband, a psychotic narcissist, a deadbeat alcoholic baby daddy. I'm also the woman who will celebrate sixteen years of recovery in September. I'm raising my boys while living with mental illness, chronic pain, and other health challenges that most people will never know about. I've spent years advocating for others while quietly fighting my own battles, and I've built a life and a home filled with peace from almost nothing.

And this weekend, I did one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I walked away from someone I love because their choices were hurting me.

That isn't weakness.

That isn't giving up.

That's what warriors do when they finally realize that love should never require them to sacrifice their own dignity.

The irony is, I don't think being a butterfly is an insult at all.

A butterfly doesn't stay in the cocoon forever. It outgrows the place that once protected it. It transforms. It leaves.

Maybe that's exactly what I've done.

Because somewhere along the way I also learned something about warriors.

A warrior isn't the person who stands there and absorbs blow after blow to prove how much they love someone. A warrior knows when to fight, but they also know when the battle they're fighting is costing them themselves.

Sometimes the bravest thing a warrior will ever do...

...is walk away.

And that's exactly what I did.

    🥰🫖 JRT