Without pouring my entire soul out, one year ago today, the last words I screamed at a very loved one were, “You owe me a massive lifetime of apologies. Until you do, go fuck yourself.”

I could hear how impactful it must have been, but I didn’t need an explanation anymore. I had set terms: apologize and until you do, go away. I didn’t say it very classy, but it was a kid screaming inside me.

At the time, my voice had only ever gotten that loud one time, that I can remember. The words were also said in anger to a loved one during an autistic moment where I felt completely abandoned. That first time, I didn’t know that kind of traumatic response even lived inside of me.

I was fortunate to process the scream I let out the first time with a trauma therapist. I was fortunate it was put into immediate perspective for me. Knowing why I rage screamed about a trauma from age 11 in my 40’s didn’t make it less likely to happen again.

Once that anger came out, I felt empowered for the first time even though I felt no control. At least I was heard and that would have to do. I had legitimate need to be protected and it seems my anger gets angriest when protection isn’t a part of love.

I must have been heard because that first person hasn’t spoken to me since I screamed for the first time. I don’t live in the attempt of wondering why. It’s futile trying to understand the communication habits of others.

The second scream that came out, my words were said with more forethought. Hard to believe. I don’t find the cuss to be overly helpful, but I haven’t regretted my second scream. I said what I should have said over a lifetime. I just accidentally said it much louder.

I was raised to submit. Submission means I continually existed to suppress some thing about or for me; Some need, some desire, some part of myself that had to be diminished, muted, restrained, disciplined, and it had to be squashed and done without being questioned. Only it wasn’t slutty clothes, it was everything. Submission was the goal.

When the bridle first comes out of submission’s mouth, apparently it likes to scream, “fuck you,” a lot. It does eventually clean up its language.

A year later, the second scream wouldn’t be so loud since I’m healing. If I could repeat one year ago today I’d say …“You may never understand why you owe me a lifetime of apologies, but since I’ve decided that you do … I’m saying goodbye. I really do love you and I now love myself enough to stop engaging. I learned how to make those Peppermint Patties, but you’re the only one I know who loves them so I only made them once. They’re in the freezer.”