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It was a Monday and I was three weeks removed from the relationship with the serial cheater I had
fallen head-over-heels in love with and I was feeling good. Just in case you didn’t read my testimony
about the break-up that turned into a breakthrough for me, I recommend that you check it out here
before continuing.
Even though I still cried a lot, I had also made a lot of progress. I’m not going to lie. There were days
I wanted to answer my ex’s phone calls so badly, even after he did me wrong. And when he had the
nerve to come by my Sweet Ma’s house one afternoon looking for me, I wanted to run outside and
tell him how much I missed him. But my grandmother wasn’t having that.
I had never heard this short, silver-haired woman’s voice sound so strong and convincing as when
she told him (while holding a broom, mind you), “You better never come back ‘round here!”
He never came back either.
But still, my heart was completely tied to the man who shamelessly did me dirty. I missed his voice,
scent, touch, and laugh.
I missed everything about him.
I missed us.
But Sweet Ma made me read Galatians 5:1 constantly that said, “Stand fast therefore in the liberty by
which Christ has made us free, and do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage.” In the Bible
the Jewish law was their bondage, but my ex was mine.
“If God set you free child, stay free,” Sweet Ma would say with piercing eyes. “The Lord brought you
out for a reason.” She was right and I knew it, yet that didn’t make my “detox” from him any easier.
This particular day was worse than others. I was just sinking in a pit of despair and feeling sick to my
stomach. I was queasy. In fact, I had been feeling lousy for about a week and a half, but I thought the
nausea was just symptomatic of the funk I was in. I wasn’t really eating or sleeping, so I chalked it up
to being heart sick, malnourished, and sleep-deprived more than anything else.
I had no idea I was pregnant until it hit me hit me that my cycle had skipped and it wasn’t like me to
be late. So I went to the drug store to buy an E.P.T. I hoped and prayed it was a false positive.
What irony!
Here I was trying to get him out of my system while carrying a part of him in my stomach. It felt like
a cruel joke. But after I went to the gynecologist and got my official results through blood work, it
was no laughing matter. There was no denying it. I was pregnant for sure—12 weeks along to be
exact. I remember one of the questionnaires I had to fill out at the prenatal clinic asked me, “Are you
happy about this pregnancy?” Another question was, “Is the child’s father in your life?” People must
have thought I was crazy sitting in the waiting area crying with that clip board in my hand.
I thought my life was over and this stupid paper was asking me if I was happy! I was literally about to
spaz, okay?
I didn’t know how to tell Mr. You-Know-Who, but Sweet Ma told me, “You didn’t make that baby
alone and he has a right to know.” With shaky hands I dialed his number and shared the news. His
reply was “How do I know it’s mine?”
Feeling crushed and angry that he had the nerve to say something like that to me knowing I was
faithful (He was the cheater!), I was crying and yelling at the same time. I don’t know what I said and
I’m sure I sounded like a crazy person. The conversation ended with him being so unfeeling and
telling me he wasn’t ready to be a father.
“So you need to do what you gotta do,” he said. Immediately, I knew what that meant. He wanted me
to abort the baby, but that wasn’t even an option for me. I was taught from early on that all life is a
blessing from God.
But that blessing would never have a chance to be born. About a month later, I started bleeding and
cramping really badly. I had a miscarriage, which was scary and painful, both emotionally and
physically. My Sweet Ma called him when I was rushed to the hospital and he never even bothered to
come by to see me.
All that time I spent with him, giving my treasure away, playing wifey, being there for him, and he
acted like he didn’t even know me. I remember curling up in the bed at the hospital after losing so
much blood and sobbing.
How could I have been so naïve and clueless?
Right there, in the midst of the greatest loneliness and sadness I had ever felt, for the first time after
walking away physically, I walked away in my heart. That chapter was closed. And the piece of
myself I had lost while being his everything was taken back. I emerged from the hospital a new
woman.
God had allowed me to see his true colors, again. Even though I didn’t like what I had to go through,
that painful situation set me free. The hold that man once had over me was loosed, and I was changed
for the better.
I know God didn’t cause any of the sorrow and heartache I went through—that was my doing—but he
did use the series of events to release me from the grip of bondage. And I never went back.
If you’ve been freed from a toxic relationship, you don’t have to go back either. In the words of my
Sweet Ma, “The Lord brought you out for a reason.”
Stay out. It won’t always be easy, but take it from a woman who has been there, the pain will stop.
The Lord will fill the void in your heart and set you on the right path. He’ll take your mistakes and
make them a testimony of triumph. I’m a witness!
Trust God to heal your heart, and join me on this exciting journey as a set-free, single, saved, and
satisfied woman!
Enjoyed this article? Tell the writer by leaving a comment here or sending an email to
ashley.peterson@eewmagazine.com.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Ashley Peterson is a staff writer for EEW Magazine. Her goal is to share her personal stories, discuss
current issues related to single women, and help them lead a single, saved, and satisfied like the way
God intends.
fallen head-over-heels in love with and I was feeling good. Just in case you didn’t read my testimony
about the break-up that turned into a breakthrough for me, I recommend that you check it out here
before continuing.
Even though I still cried a lot, I had also made a lot of progress. I’m not going to lie. There were days
I wanted to answer my ex’s phone calls so badly, even after he did me wrong. And when he had the
nerve to come by my Sweet Ma’s house one afternoon looking for me, I wanted to run outside and
tell him how much I missed him. But my grandmother wasn’t having that.
I had never heard this short, silver-haired woman’s voice sound so strong and convincing as when
she told him (while holding a broom, mind you), “You better never come back ‘round here!”
He never came back either.
But still, my heart was completely tied to the man who shamelessly did me dirty. I missed his voice,
scent, touch, and laugh.
I missed everything about him.
I missed us.
But Sweet Ma made me read Galatians 5:1 constantly that said, “Stand fast therefore in the liberty by
which Christ has made us free, and do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage.” In the Bible
the Jewish law was their bondage, but my ex was mine.
“If God set you free child, stay free,” Sweet Ma would say with piercing eyes. “The Lord brought you
out for a reason.” She was right and I knew it, yet that didn’t make my “detox” from him any easier.
This particular day was worse than others. I was just sinking in a pit of despair and feeling sick to my
stomach. I was queasy. In fact, I had been feeling lousy for about a week and a half, but I thought the
nausea was just symptomatic of the funk I was in. I wasn’t really eating or sleeping, so I chalked it up
to being heart sick, malnourished, and sleep-deprived more than anything else.
I had no idea I was pregnant until it hit me hit me that my cycle had skipped and it wasn’t like me to
be late. So I went to the drug store to buy an E.P.T. I hoped and prayed it was a false positive.
What irony!
Here I was trying to get him out of my system while carrying a part of him in my stomach. It felt like
a cruel joke. But after I went to the gynecologist and got my official results through blood work, it
was no laughing matter. There was no denying it. I was pregnant for sure—12 weeks along to be
exact. I remember one of the questionnaires I had to fill out at the prenatal clinic asked me, “Are you
happy about this pregnancy?” Another question was, “Is the child’s father in your life?” People must
have thought I was crazy sitting in the waiting area crying with that clip board in my hand.
I thought my life was over and this stupid paper was asking me if I was happy! I was literally about to
spaz, okay?
I didn’t know how to tell Mr. You-Know-Who, but Sweet Ma told me, “You didn’t make that baby
alone and he has a right to know.” With shaky hands I dialed his number and shared the news. His
reply was “How do I know it’s mine?”
Feeling crushed and angry that he had the nerve to say something like that to me knowing I was
faithful (He was the cheater!), I was crying and yelling at the same time. I don’t know what I said and
I’m sure I sounded like a crazy person. The conversation ended with him being so unfeeling and
telling me he wasn’t ready to be a father.
“So you need to do what you gotta do,” he said. Immediately, I knew what that meant. He wanted me
to abort the baby, but that wasn’t even an option for me. I was taught from early on that all life is a
blessing from God.
But that blessing would never have a chance to be born. About a month later, I started bleeding and
cramping really badly. I had a miscarriage, which was scary and painful, both emotionally and
physically. My Sweet Ma called him when I was rushed to the hospital and he never even bothered to
come by to see me.
All that time I spent with him, giving my treasure away, playing wifey, being there for him, and he
acted like he didn’t even know me. I remember curling up in the bed at the hospital after losing so
much blood and sobbing.
How could I have been so naïve and clueless?
Right there, in the midst of the greatest loneliness and sadness I had ever felt, for the first time after
walking away physically, I walked away in my heart. That chapter was closed. And the piece of
myself I had lost while being his everything was taken back. I emerged from the hospital a new
woman.
God had allowed me to see his true colors, again. Even though I didn’t like what I had to go through,
that painful situation set me free. The hold that man once had over me was loosed, and I was changed
for the better.
I know God didn’t cause any of the sorrow and heartache I went through—that was my doing—but he
did use the series of events to release me from the grip of bondage. And I never went back.
If you’ve been freed from a toxic relationship, you don’t have to go back either. In the words of my
Sweet Ma, “The Lord brought you out for a reason.”
Stay out. It won’t always be easy, but take it from a woman who has been there, the pain will stop.
The Lord will fill the void in your heart and set you on the right path. He’ll take your mistakes and
make them a testimony of triumph. I’m a witness!
Trust God to heal your heart, and join me on this exciting journey as a set-free, single, saved, and
satisfied woman!
Enjoyed this article? Tell the writer by leaving a comment here or sending an email to
ashley.peterson@eewmagazine.com.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Ashley Peterson is a staff writer for EEW Magazine. Her goal is to share her personal stories, discuss
current issues related to single women, and help them lead a single, saved, and satisfied like the way
God intends.
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FEBRUARY 27-MARCH 12 EEW MAGAZINE