This is the often painful story of Gwen Plano’s relationships first with a husband whose sanity she thought she could save, and then with one who systematically abused her for twenty five years. It is a beautifully written, articulate, intelligent analysis of what happened and why it happened, why she persevered with it for as long as she did, and how eventually she was able to rely on her own strengths to take her to a much better place, physically, emotionally and spiritually.
Life had taught her to be a carer from an early age, and for carers, learning what can and cannot be done for a partner deeply damaged by their own childhood deals occasional highs and many crushing lows. “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” we say, and go on and on sacrificing our own happiness trying to satisfy the person we have committed to: because we don’t want to admit to failure; we think that if we just go on trying harder to be the person our partner says we need to be in order to satisfy them, then we will win through in the end. How many children born into such abusive relationships are inevitably scarred by them? And how many of us have such a story to tell?
Reading her account reminded me deeply how ashamed I am of my gender: for the atrocities it commits, and for the abuses so many men seem capable of inflicting on others. Violence is violence and its toll is profound. When we suffer abuse from others (of whatever kind) the questions are: what can we learn from such experiences, how do we heal the hurt and become Love, and how do we re-open a door to our soul that has been repeatedly slammed shut throughout the years?
This book tells you honestly and fluently how its writer answered those questions, and I recommend it to you without reservation.