1. You shouldn’t ever count on a relationship to fulfill you or make you happy. That’s your job, and nobody will ever be able to do it better than you can.

2. You should be careful and slow with relationships you might start after leaving him, because you’ll have a habit of tolerating abuse and not setting boundaries, and that can draw some pretty bad flies to you.

Aside from all that, I wanted to step in here as the You From the Future to tell you something about this scenario:

I say: ” Darling, do you know what happened to my rug?” he replies: “Ah, yes, I’m sorry sweetie, I put it out with the rubbish because you’d said the dog had been sick on it. I thought you wanted to get rid of it.” To which I would have replied: “Oh. Okay but I wish you’d asked me first. I’d managed to clean it up and it might have come in handy one day but never mind.” To which he would have said: “yes, you’re right. I should have asked but you weren’t here to ask. I was going to tell you too but it slipped my mind. I’m sorry sweetie. Can I make it up to you?” to which I would have said “crack open the white later and pour me a glass.”

Leaving him will make this scenario a reality.

When I first began to think of leaving my husband, all I could look forward to was a relief of the abuse. I didn’t have the skills or imagination or self-esteem at that point to think of anything else. Then, slowly, I began to think of the way things *could* be. I thought, I could choose a boyfriend who was good to me. I could have sex that felt good. I could set standards of my lovers. I could choose not to spend a day with a boyfriend because I wanted to be alone. I could not date a man who wouldn’t accept this, who would call me constantly, whining, begging, angry. I could break up with any man who did this to me. I could, in fact, make an arbitrary stand of all my lovers, I could say, “I do not want to date anybody who doesn’t buy me a surprise present once in a while, just because,” and that was my right, and I probably *could* find somebody who would do that.

I developed this very silly fantasy in my head that I carried around, not telling anybody because I felt it was so embarrassing, but it meant something to me. I imagined my new apartment, unfurnished, lying on the floor in pajamas with the window open, eating fresh fruit and getting pleasantly drunk on wine with some guy I’d met at a cafe. I realized, I can have that. That can be real. I didn’t meet any guy at a cafe, but I did meet a guy, and I did have that, rolling around on the floor eating fruit and talking about books. I had that, and breakfast in bed, and cuddling, and presents just because, and somebody who loved to hear my laughter, loved to hear me talk. Wanting all these things had been embarrassing before, because my husband had mocked me for wanting them (not because I wanted them, I realized, but because he was so broken he couldn’t provide them). Not until I was out did I realize they weren’t embarrassing things to want; they were normal, good, and more than that, now completely *essential.* I will never again settle for less.

These are the things you can gain by leaving abuse. You can have a pleasant conversation with a husband who will apologize for a mistake, pour you a glass of wine, and kiss you on the cheek.

*You can have that*