The woman who went up that mountain and the woman who walked down it were not the same person, and I have made my peace with that, though it took time.

The woman who went up was gentle, and trusting, and had spent nine years making excuses for a man who did not deserve a single one of them.

She apologized reflexively.

She softened her own needs so they would not inconvenience anyone.

She had been slowly taught, over years, to doubt her own perceptions in favor of her husband’s confident version of reality, and she had learned the lesson well.

I do not despise that woman.