Dear God, why didn’t I see what was always there?
It was there, I just didn’t see it, or perhaps I saw it, but I looked away.
What happened to me, God?
Why did I look away?

I looked away and my husband was sleeping with his secretary.
I looked away and the medicine cabinet was full of prescription drugs.
I looked away and I was trapped with obligations to pay for property, cars,
and things I didn’t even want.

I looked away and I was paying all the bills.
I looked away and I lost the will to go back to school.
I looked away and the years I could have spent with my baby were gone.
I looked away and my father was dead before we could have a real
conversation.

I looked away and my bedroom was full of pornography.
I looked away and I was drinking so I could bear to have sex.
I looked away and I had forgotten how to kiss, worse,
I had forgotten how to love.
I looked away and my self respect had all leaked out.

I looked away, dear God, and when I looked back I saw a decade of
weekends spent doing things I didn’t enjoy, with people I didn’t like.
I looked away, and when I looked back, I had spent ten years doing work
I didn’t love.
I looked away, and when I looked back, I was raising my child to give in.
I looked away, and when I looked back, I had become a liar, lying to myself
about my feelings, lying to my husband with empty smiles,
lying to my son with silence.

I looked away, dear God.
You didn’t turn my head.
My boss didn’t turn my head.
My ex-husband didn’t turn my head.
He may have enticed me and cajoled me, but he didn’t put
my head in his hands and force me to turn.
I looked away.

When that didn’t protect me sufficiently, I closed my eyes.
When that didn’t protect me, I covered my ears.
When that wasn’t enough, I closed the door,
crawled under the covers, and pulled the pillow over my head.
But in the dark, dear God, I saw the truth.
And the truth is: I looked away.