This morning, I was feeling nostalgic, scrolling through some old Facebook profile pictures of my own. I noticed there were a few weeks where I had a new profile picture every few days. Then I remembered, those photos, I only have because of something I can’t remember doing.
Apparently, I emailed a lot of photos to a friend for safe keeping. Brent made me delete all evidence of modelling photos and photos from any event that another man may have come within ten feet of me. As though the day I met him was the day my life began, as though I didn’t have a past.
The day that friend came to me and asked if I wanted all my photos, I didn’t even know what they were talking about. It was at least a few months after I’d left him. I had blocked so much of his control from my mind that I didn’t realise my fight response had kicked in so early in my life with him.