I never changed my last name when I got married.
It's been 7 years and I still don't feel like I want to give up the representation of my autonomy when I know that I cannot trust this person to lead.
Well, let's backtrack. He leads in the ways I allow him to and in the ways he feels comfortable. But where I really need him, he is incapable. Or so I thought.
December 12th 2025, I got into a wreck that almost killed my entire family. It happened so fast, so violently, that there was nothing I could have done to change the outcome. Although, I struck the other vehicle, it wasn't inherently my fault. The other car caught a flat and didn't immediately move into the emergency lane. (Fucking idiot.) So by the time I looked up from the split second I needed to find something in the car, I was already rear-ending him trying to adjust the angle so I didn't hit them head on. That didn't work. We went careening into the neutral ground between the two sets of highway lanes. The other car was pushed into the tree line. I remember pulling my kids out of the smoking car as fast as I could. The ex insurance agent in me kicked as I'm assessing the damages and the lives that were affected. I remember looking at my husband and thinking about how slow he reacted once he realized we were all alive. That was the first thing. Then I looked at my hands that were bruised and bleeding from the airbag when I tried to keep the car steady even as the airbag was ejecting. The last thing was, "I have to call my mom to tell her about this accident. And then what?" (because she was my co-signer and was also helping us with the vehicle financially.)
Instead of him saying, "it's going to be ok, we're going to get through this, we'll figure it out baby.", he starts crying. It pissed me off so bad because all I could think of is that once again (because this wasn't my first accident in the last 4 years and the same thing essentially happened two years ago), I would have to go crawling to my mom with my tail between my legs, asking for her help, when my husband should be able to lead; in fear, in injury, financially....
I sat in the ambulance with my kids strapped in, riding to the hospital a few miles away after demanding that all of us be taken in for assessment.
My oldest son's BP was 115/127. And that's extremely high for a fucking 12 year old. My baby was so overwhelmed and scared before we left for the hospital that he immediately started retching when we exited the vehicle. I was staring at them and staring at my husband in disbelief thinking to myself, "how tf did I end up here? Do I love him this much that I've been blind to my own needs; to my kids needs? I can't do this anymore. He's got to get out of his own way long enough to see that these issues have lasted too fucking long and we need reprieve." He saw me silently sobbing into my shirt and went to touch my leg. I jerked it away from him in disgust.
Backstory: We weren't even supposed to be on the road that morning. My kids are homeschooled, I am an entrepreneur. My husband has a ride to work. The company truck and his crew come to pick him up every morning. Y'know why he told them to go ahead without him this particular morning? Because his stomach was upset and he had to shit. I shit you not. There have been so many mornings he's been late; for so much less! But yet, this morning, he tells them his wife will bring him. I was confused but like always, I put my frustration to the side to serve my husband; to be of service to him even when I'm lacking what I need in every way conceivable. My baby boy was even confused when I woke him up at 9:00am to take his Dad to work. He legit said, "Why are you waking me up?" to which I replied dryly, to take Daddy to work.
At the hospital, he kept asking if I was angry with him and I told him we would talk later. He kept pressing the issue and making a scene. So finally, I blurted out, "I want a divorce. This shouldn't have even happened. And yet again we're in a situation where I will need my Mom's help. Fuck this." The New Orleans came out of me real strong at that moment. LOL
He panicked, began to spiral; all sorts of shit. I can't even sit here and describe to you all the things that transpired between the day of the wreck and when I left 3 days later with my children and clothes in tow. I spent a week with my mom to think and figure things out but went back for X-mas because I wanted his son to spend time with him before I made up my mind on if I wanted to leave for good. Before that week his mental health started deteriorating so much so that I contemplated committing him to be sure that he was safe.
Digression: When I mentioned him needing to get out of his own way earlier in this story, I was referring to the years of repressed trauma that he was carrying. Being a wife, you see all sides of a person. Even the parts he hid so well from everyone else that has ever loved him. I've known for a while that he needed therapy and probably medication. But life is hard, I have children, I have businesses I've been trying to get off the ground so I can help him, and I'm naturally dominant; my focus has always been keeping the house afloat in the ways he wasn't capable of. Unfortunately, what he needed fell through the cracks just as much as what I needed, did. I've never weaponized his shortcomings but I have tried to advocate for him as well as myself, unsuccessfully. The crushing weight of carrying it all was starting to take a toll on my emotions and behaviour. I could feel myself anticipating his arrival home, anticipating his touch, anticipating interactions because my brain was screaming that the imbalance was no longer ignorable.
I stayed longer than Christmas. Longer than I was supposed to. For hope that I could find a typical 9-5 within a few weeks then go back to my mom's house to start working and looking for a place for my kids and I. I was still cold and unfeeling. He wanted so badly to cling to me but admitted that he knew the separation needed to happen. I thought we were on the same page.
The last week of December, his Mommee died. (She is the person that held him together while a lot of these traumas were happening to him as a little boy.) Something in him broke. The looming separation plus the additional heartbreak of losing the 2nd to last mother figure he had left after his mothers passing was too much for him to handle. A simple conversation one night while both of us were vulnerable turned into a mental breakdown on his part. I demanded him to come outside with me to get some fresh air, smoke a cigarette and talk about going to the ER for psych assessment the next day after throwing things around the apartment, crying on the floor like a child and scaring our children half to death. He listened, begged me not to commit him but I held steadfast. I stopped being angry and started thinking from the perspective of empathy. I placed myself in his shoes and realized in that moment that this was never about what he can't do, because he's shown me glimpses of the fullness of his capacity in different moments. It was about a load that was never his to carry and people close to him ignoring what he needed because he is a Black man and history says he's supposed to be stronger than that. I even started believing that for a little while.
The day after the break down came and passed. He got help and medicine but we still left for the sake of my children's emotional well-being while I figured out my next steps, whether that was to file for divorce or give him a running head start to meet me where I was already going.
I've been gone for almost a month, we've been talking and what I realized since I have been gone are these things:
The pressure is never on one person. He was drowning just as much as I was.
Anger and love can coincide. I am still skeptical of the conditions of my return but I know with what I have seen since I've been gone that he wants change for himself and only needed someone to not just see him but act as well.
Being a dominant woman is in my nature because of my experiences and he was beaten into submission as a child. Unlearning those behaviors is like yin and yang; we both need each other to unlearn what we were taught was the correct way to handle things.
If a person really loves you, distance and correction will not make them hate you; it will bring you closer and bring clarity if you truly let it.
Children need love and to know you're trying. Sometimes consistency and stability isn't always possible when the conditions have been positioned to deplete rather than to replenish. We have a long way to go to restore their trust in us but they know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we love them and that we love each other. And even though that doesn't mean we are perfect or that they will get the same 'us' all the time, we are accountable for the uncomfortable moments to them first and then ourselves.
Sometimes separation IS needed to figure out where YOU are wrong, not the other person. He was always afraid that me leaving meant I wouldn't come back and that I would see just how fucked up we were while together. It actually did the opposite. I realized I have been just as encumbered and that has affected my capacity just as much as his.
I started missing him. My youngest son's behaviour changed drastically, for the worse. His tantrums became so bad that I would become triggered and literally have to separate myself so I didn't do something or say something that could harm him. (He's autistic, has a seizure disorder and an intellectual disability.) My oldest son was angry with him and me but started to withdraw into himself; if you know my son you know he is an extrovert and the light of the room. I could not have this. I noticed the effect it was taking on my mom to amplify what she had already been dealing with all this time. I didn't need or want to add more to her plate knowing this wasn't her battle to fight; never was. And I saw that he was genuinely trying and achieving what I needed from him.
So, although my own anxiety and mind wants to make me think nothing will change and everything will be the same, I'm going back home tomorrow with a renewed sense of purpose and a willingness to allow him to fill all of my needs instead of the ones I feel he can handle. He has agreed to the same. My baby boy will get to be back in his normal environment instead of talking to his Daddy on video chat and asking for his presence daily. The oldest has admitted to missing his step father and wanting to be back in his normal environment as well.
NOW, how does this tie into kink? Well when I left the first week, I started exploring and trying to put a name to a face. Rather, I wanted to know why we went dead in the water emotionally and intimately. I was able to realize that I am dominant although I want to be submissive. I realized the conditions have to be right for me to submit. I discovered I don't like submissive men and that I'm a great teacher in every other area of my life; why not teach dominance to the man who is willing to bend over backwards to honor his vows. I am now able to identify the areas where he is already dominant and just needs the space and instruction to let that bleed over into the 24\7 power-exchange that I so deeply crave. In this month long separation, I've found my footing emotionally and intimately and I'm ready to go back to try to enact all that we have learned being away from one another.
So, tell me...do you think it's ok to go backwards? Or am I really going forward?
-Bunny