I married my first husband when I was 16. I was about 21-22 before I realized the "love" we shared was more that of master and servant than husband and wife. I would be 26 when I told him to fuck off for the last time and divorced his ass. However today there are still signs of my training. Signs that I never notice. Signs that I can't break even if I wanted to. They have become a part of me and will probably remain with me until I turn to dust. They are who I am and are unchangeable.
They become most noticeable when my husband asks for a cup of tea. He doesn't like the cup to be filled to the top, but my training DEMANDS the hot liquid be level with the top of the cup. The slightest of a fraction below is an insult to the person I hand the cup to. Even though I know my current husband PREFERS to not have his cup full, he never yells. He simply accepts the cup, says thank you and drinks. Occasionally he will simply say "make it just a half cup this time please" but it's only on rare occasions and he knows he won't get a half cup, but he asks anyways. Because maybe that time I'll be able to give him the half cup he has asked for. Except it's never half full. Although I have gotten slightly better. Now it will be slightly not to the top but not quite half way. It's taken me four years to get to the point where I can do that without my throat closing in panic or my hands shaking because "I made the tea wrong".
I don't know if I'll ever break my training. I don't know if it'll ever leave me. I was very young when it started and it has wrapped itself around me in ways I don't even realize. There are aspects of it I love and don't want to change, but even though I like the action, it still makes me shiver whenever I realize the reason WHY I MUST perform it. It isn't my love for it that drives me. It is the training.