01/13/2025
Years ago, I inherited my mom’s charm bracelet after she passed. She wore it constantly, and while I don’t know if she truly loved it or just wore it because we kept giving her charms, it held deep sentimental value. Around the same time, my son gave me a new charm bracelet with a single charm. It was bittersweet—his gift juxtaposed with my mom’s old, familiar piece. I decided to merge the two, creating a legacy piece that could grow over the years.
On my birthday, I asked my then-husband for a charm—something meaningful to represent his view of me. His response? “I don’t think they make charms of anvils.” We laughed, but it stung. Instead of addressing the hurt, I looked for an anvil charm to turn his dig into a joke. But when I showed him, he dismissed it. No charm, no shared joke—just another opportunity for him to be cruel.
Looking back, it wasn’t about the charm. It was about me ignoring red flags and tolerating cruelty because I wanted so badly to believe in the relationship. For years, I thought I could fix it if I tried hard enough, but the truth is, cruelty isn’t healed by love alone. Words, actions, even silence can cut deeply.
If you’re in a situation like that, I urge you:
Check yourself. Reflect on your role, not to assign blame but to grow.
Address it. Don’t allow cruelty to persist—set boundaries and take action.
I’m not a victim in my story. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve been the villain at times too. But as a child of God, I’ve learned to reflect, repent, and reform. Now, with a kind and loving husband, I live a peaceful life filled with love and growth—a chance to work on my shortcomings and honor God.
Be good to yourself, friends. Don’t accept harm, and strive to do better.
