
I love my husband.
Jared says I have been less afraid of him this year; that I am making progress.
He says for years in the 2010s to the early 2020s I flinched, as in actually jumped, whenever Jared reached out to touch me.
Jared says it hurt, but he knew it was not him I was reacting to: it was ghosts of the past.
The body keeps score.
And even now, my nervous system is highly wired and worn out.
But I do love my husband, and I am learning to trust the love that he has shown me consistently for 22 years now.
Trust is hard.
Trusting men is harder.
The body keeps score and even with 22 years of careful and tender care, there are confusing outbursts occasionally. It’s hard to remember that my husband is not the enemy sometimes.
And when my nervous system feels short-circuited due to high alert, the best thing I can do is bury my head in Jared’s chest and let him tell me, without me saying a word, “You are safe.”
In fact, when I am at my most distressed, Jared takes off his shirt to hold me, telling me I need the contact of his warm skin.
Jared says, “You are safe,” at the most unexpected times.
The situation is delicate enough that Jared’s incredible employer lets me hang out with him at work whenever it’s practical.
Right now, I am drafting this post from the hallway of the press box while Jared is working with the broadcast kids for the Halloween football game tonight.
Lots of afternoons, when I have been unable to drag myself out of the bed due to despondency, Jared will say, “Come see me,” and when I manage to get cleaned up and out of the house, I just go hang out at his office.
Jared is truly my safe place.
How I got so lucky when that man with the online profile “Maxtheape” sent me a message in early July 2003, I will never know.
I remain convinced that Jared Price saved my life.


