She told him her boundaries.
And he violated her while she slept.
When she told Alice, I could see the anguish on her face, but she was matter-of-fact.
Detached.
Dissociating, her therapist had said.
Dissociation.
Of course.How else do you survive something so horrifying?
She shouldn’t have to survive this. She shouldn’t have to justify her rage, her pain. And yet she does, over and over, explaining it to herself as much as to the world.
And then there’s Phil.
Phil, the eternal enabler, the flying monkey to Timmy’s narcissistic games.
When Margaux told Alice about his response—‘it doesn’t sound like rape to me’—I wanted to put my fist through the nearest wall, as well as Phil’s skull.
How dare he?
How dare he dismiss her trauma—her reality—to defend his pathetic excuse for a son?
That man is as much a part of the problem as Timmy is.Maybe more.
Timmy learned how to be a monster from someone, and it’s clear now where it started.
But Margaux? She’s stronger than either of them will ever understand. That either of them ever could hope to be.
She’s seeing the patterns now. The gaslighting, the blame-shifting, the cycles of abuse. Her research into narcissistic abuse and DARVO is helping her untangle the web he’s spun around her.
It’s like watching someone wake up from a nightmare and realize they’ve been shackled all along.
When she told Alice she went to get the TRO, I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time—relief. She’s taking steps to protect herself, to draw a line in the sand that Timmy can’t cross.
It’s not easy—none of this is—but she’s doing it.
And I couldn’t be prouder.
The system, though? It’s infuriatingly slow.
Watching her navigate the red tape and the endless hoops she has to jump through just to protect herself makes me want to scream.
The fact that she had to beg for a TRO—that she had to sit in that courthouse recounting her trauma while knowing it might not be enough—is maddening.
And then the police, dismissing her describing Timmy’srapingher, because she’d had a drink?
Unacceptable.
What the hell kind of system punishes survivors for trying to cope?
But she’s not giving up. She’s not letting the system—or Timmy—win.
And that’s the thing about Margaux. No matter how many times she gets knocked down, she gets back up, stronger and more determined than before.
The way she’s been communicating with Timmy—calm, clear, direct—is a thing of beauty. I read the emails she sent him, and I couldn’t stop smiling.