It started way before I even thought of being in a relationship. It was with the one man that was supposed to show me what love was and how to love, but instead I watched him beat my mother, then turn on me. I learned to fight like a man and no matter day or night I was always on edge as to how my Dad was going to behave when he got home.

No kid should go through this and my mother should have Never stayed. My dad beat (fist) us, cussed us, called us pigs and no good for nothing, and even held a gun to us as we sat on the bed looking down the barrel. He would leave us on the side of the road after drinking and driving us around. He once dragged me across the side street by my hair getting road rash all over my stomach and legs, when the police arrived I ran to them with open arms, he grabbed me like a criminal my parents said I was out of control, the cop said I smell alcohol on you! Really? That was my drunk dad he always smelt like this. The cop threatened to take me to juvie. What did I do? | was being abused I even told teachers and NOTHING! My grandmother's boyfriend harassed me always asking if I had hair on "my pussy" or had my titties grown? Why, why the fuck did my parents or Grandma allow this. Years later I didn't realize, I would pick those same kind of men. I dated a guy who was ok to me but I began to see signs- he cheated, he held a key into my side telling me I would not tell his mom something bad he had done. I got out of that relationship I was strong. I was NOT going to make the life my mom did.

Then I met my first husband, definitely a rebound and honestly not even my type. I learned fast there was issues, beginning with him sucking his thumb. He joined the Army so I figured I'd stick it out a bit. The police were looking for him 2 weeks in, but let those chargers go, because he had joined the army. He went awall when I left him and tried killing our dog. He got a medical discharge for mental issues. He never hit me or verbally abused me but he was definitely not all there. My dad called him Charles Manson, I got away and he stalked me for months then I'm pretty sure he found another all in all. I would learn years later that he killed his wife and then took his own life.

After him was my kid's dad. A love I never knew. He swept me off my feet but it wasn't long and I was pregnant, and that's when he started cheating. I have no clue why I didn't leave then but I was determined to keep my baby's daddy. The first abuse started after I had moved in. I had 2 handfuls of groceries so I was knocking on door and it woke him up, so he proceeded to call me a no good bitch and he shoved me. I was still strong so I packed my bags and left. He begged me to stay and even cried, so I stayed.

He cheated through my whole pregnancy with my oldest, with woman online in other states and his ex. I was so mad I actually caught them in bed together. She would shop with him for my kid and I was mad. Soon I gave him an alternative so he left her and stepped up his abuse game. He would hit me then cry about it. The night before our wedding he beat me so bad I wore 10x10 bruises down my sides where he had kicked me because I was laying in the floor saying I was hot and it pissed him off. He always cried afterwards and so that was something I had never seen (a man cry) so I thought well he is sad about it. Once we argued one night, he broke a broom pan over my leg and the next morning when I woke up and went to the bathroom, out of nowhere he hit me. I ran out the door just as a cop drove by and I actually had the nerve to flag him down. Most of the time I would threaten to call the cops but I would always change my mind. He got out and promised to do better, he went to counseling and anger management and things were ok for a couple years but then it all started again once I had the twins. I was over it, no help from him and his abuse was increasing, and so what better way to cope? Yup Cocaine. I started using with him and noticed -oh great we can talk and get along, only that just worked for a few party nights and then the abuse came back even worse. The cocaine habit turned to crack smoking and then that turned into Me getting choked so bad I could feel my eyeballs popping out. I was now addicted and he worked to pay for my habit. He also started spending bill money to get some crack before work and was pulling money out the bank and denying it. The beatings and name calling got closer and closer and it was just a daily routine. He would tear up my house, scream at the kids, and lock them in their room with a bungie cord holding the door shut with our bedroom doorknob. One day as he tried pushing me through our 2 story bedroom window my son walked in the room crying as my husband yelled at him to get the fuck out. I knew at that moment I was done. I could not stay for my own benefit anymore. No matter how hooked on drugs, I knew my kids meant more, so l started a plan to leave. A few days later he ate a bottle of his antidepressants that he never took properly and did drugs. He beat on me, chewed up the pills in front of me and went to the room and locked himself in there. Knowing now had I called the police, he would have been arrested and maybe gotten help, but at the point I didn't care if he died or not so I sat there all day just hoping he would not wake up, but he did. We had a roommate at this point and the next morning my husband told us both to get out. Before now, any other time Id ignore this request, but I knew this was my out, so I packed my clothes and left.

Even after leaving and moving into my own place he beat me, he stalked me, he ran my name through the mud. He told lie after lie and did whatever possible to make me look bad- from calling the police in the middle of the night on school nights to wake my kids out of bed for well checks, to sending magazines to my house, putting sugar in the gas, slashing tires, pushing our roommate's truck through the porch. Once I was kissing the kids in his back seat and he took off with me hanging out his back door dragging my bare feet across the asphalt. Another time, he was coming to get the kids and I asked him for child support so he proceeded to shove me through my front door right into my kids! It was a world of complete hell that I couldn't escape and up until 1 year ago I still had to deal with his torture. After we separated our roommate and I got together. If it wasn't for this man I'd probably be dead or kid less. He told me if I didn't get off the drugs he was going to get my kids taken away and he was out. I quit- no rehab or anything. My kids were what I lived for. As time went on I also noticed signs with my new partner. I also know his child hood with losing his mom when he was 12 he found her on the floor dead, his dad was abusive, and so were other family members. He never got the help he needed and ended up in the system rather than getting counseling and help. He had bad things happen to him in lockup so now the people in his life have to deal with a manipulative, bipolar, narcissistic man. So I understand why he was that way and I was ok with his behaviors. This too went on for 10 years until it escalated to him and me separating but still seeing each other. Then it turned into shoves and hits then I in return gave him black eyes, 3 different ones in a matter of 2 months (all in self-defense). The next fight landed us both in jail because nobody witness it. It was he said she said and they let the judge sort it out. He punched me repeatedly in my bad knee, he spit on me, he kicked my shins but mainly he broke my heart. After the worst weekend of my life being beat by the man I loved like I had loved no other and then sitting in a dirty bloody cell because he put his hands on me.

But we pushed through, got out, dropped charges and still dated. Then he started making moves on someone that's supposed to be my friend. He took the vehicle and moved in with her leaving me in a place where I have no family to fend for myself and mind you NO child support. Guess what I did it I survived alone for 6 months paying my bills. It took forever but as I was healing and hanging with a guy getting him out of my mind enjoying time alone learning to love me and enjoying my kids. Then one day he called, he asked to talk said he missed us his heart hurt. We slowly gained a friendship again and he swore he would never hit me again.

Now that was 5 years ago and he has kept good on his word but it's taken a lot of patience and hard dedicated work. Do we fight, of course we do. Do I feel as bad as I use to after- no way! After all these years and 60 thousand dollars in child back support the kids dad has also done a lot of changing and his new wife now gets to enjoy the better him after years in prison. People do change, but not all of My story continues. I'm lucky for that as some woman have not escaped this. I hold my head high and I and my partner taught my daughter to never rely on a man and always look for the signs and be a strong independent woman. And she is. She likes boys, but is in no way focused on getting a boyfriend. She walks strong and will never settle if a man wants her, he will have to prove himself.

I'm a single mom of a beautiful 7 year old daughter. I've been separated for 2 years. It took moving 1000 miles away to get away from my husband, the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. He is charming and charismatic. I had no idea at 22 what I had gotten myself into. I never knew how manipulative a person could be. There were so many red flags but when I fell for this man, I mean I fell hard. I didn't know how bad it would be at 11 years forward. I never thought he'd go as far as he did. I made excuses, I decided early, on this man was my family, you don't turn your back on family. When he grabbed me the first time I thought oh it’s nothing, had I known this was a beginning of a long abusive relationship. I never would have thought I'd have a knife to my throat as I held our 3 month old baby. I never thought that the man of my dreams would one day hate everything about me. If he hit me as much as he verbally abused me, I think in some way at least my body would match my mind, body, and soul more often. My husband was 10 years older than me. I thought that meant something at 22 years old but boy was I wrong. I'm a positive, bubbly, happy person. This man killed everything I loved about me and I'm lucky I made it out. It's funny I don't even hate him now, which I guess after what he has done, a lot of people would, but I can't. The worst part is I let him. He was so controlling. The anxiety just from worrying if a man friend requested me, I knew from being younger is then when he hurts me to the point I can't go back. When I say go back I mean, where he lost his temper to the point that he took it to far and seriously injure me or kill me. By the end I had people aware at work that if I didn't show up one day without calling, something happened to me and he did it without a doubt. When my 5 year old told me when mommies are bad, mommies get hit. It was an epiphany that I needed to leave. I realized I was raising her to be pushed, wine thrown in her face, crutches stolen from me so I couldn't walk to the bathroom, just to control me with a broken foot. I was raising her to be ME. I stayed for ME. I left for HER. You teach your children with your actions and I couldn't watch her go through this. Its 2 years since he tried to kill himself since I left him. 2 years since I got the strength to be done. My family was shocked when they found out how bad it got. I kept it to myself. My biggest regret is what it's done to my beautiful little girl who worships her daddy. I believed him when he told me no one else would put up with me. I believed him when he said I was nothing without him. Finding out how wrong he was has empowered me to share my story. To all people, you can get out even after 11 and half years. That you are worth it. Loving myself and putting myself first has been the best gift I could ever give myself.

When I was 16 years old I fell in love for the first time. I get embarrassed easily so all the "I get butterflies in my stomach" and "My heart skips a beat when I see you" were never really my thing.

As someone who was adopted at birth and had to learn later in life that the man who is labeled as my birth dad was a rapist. Half of my DNA and genes are "evil" or that's what I always thought. Because of this, the thought of having a boyfriend and/or spending my life with one singular person who would see my body never gave me the excitement it gave those around me.

However, when I was 16 this one boy changed everything. I was given an assigned seat in my science class and this boy and I would talk all of the time. He started calling me and we would talk on the phone for hours. In December of 2016 (4 months after meeting him) he kissed me for the first time. I have never felt so much love radiate throughout my body as he slowly moved his lips away from mine.

The next few months were GREAT-perfect even. We continued our flirtatious relationship and strong friendship for the next few months. In June of 2017 he ghosted me for a little. I was super hurt and angry and swore l'd never talk to him again- but after 10 days he texted me "I love you" and for the first time, l admitted that I loved him. Not to him, but to myself. Things were good for the next few months. We talked every single second of everyday and spoke on the phone through the night.

In October of 2017 | gave up my virginity to him. This was a big deal to me because of a previous ongoing sexual assault that happened to me when I was little and a big deal that I freely was being so vulnerable and giving someone a piece of me l never thought I could.

After we had sex, a lot of things changed. He became super controlling, mean, and aggressive.

For the next year he would demand to go through my phone and when I would try and fight back-he would hit me. He wouldn't let me walk away and if he saw me talking to someone of the opposite sex, he would grab me by my wrists and hold them tightly until I had tears in my eyes begging him to stop. He would pull my hair if I tried to walk away and punch me if he was angry; even if it had nothing to do with me.

November 4* 2018, we were sitting in my car and I was ending things. I couldn't do it anymore. When I went to get out, he locked the doors and started hitting me. He then told me if I really loved him, l'd do things with him "one last time" but I had heard those words before. "One last time" knowing I couldn't mentally or physically take the abuse anymore-I tried to get out of the car. I cried a lot. He then forced himself onto me and sexually assaulted me. I begged him to stop and told him I'd do anything. When it was over, I felt numb. I remember buttoning up my pants and feeling a bruise right under my belly button, having scratches on my arms, and the way he said "that wasn't so bad, was it?" And then got out of the car and never turned back.

The most fucked up part of this is even after all of that-l still loved him. He told me I was ugly, called me a piece of shit, told me the world would be better off without me, and that nobody would ever love me again. It hurt so much. I tried to find excuses and for a long time I hid what was happening- the pain I was experiencing. I thought he was the love of my life. I never thought I'd be okay again. I felt guilty for a long time. I felt like he took a piece of me that l'd never get back.

But now, as of September 2020, I like to think of myself as a survivor opposed to a victim. It's taken a long time, a lot of therapy, and finally gaining a good support system but I finally know my worth and know I did not deserve that.

I want to start by saying as LOUD as my writing will convey "IT IS NOT YOU!" There is Nothing you could do that would make you deserve abusive behavior. Abuse is about the Abuser. Once I understood that, I was able to get away. No one starts dating someone who is abusive. I cringe when someone says they should've known better. Abusers come in as the Knights or Angels in shining armor. They groom you, build you up, gain your trust, and slowly take away everyone you love so that you are totally dependent on them. It’s subtle like "I don't want you out because I worry about you when you are gone." You think it's genuine, it's not. Then it turns too "you don't need makeup, you're beautiful." These statements seem harmless but over time (for me about 6 months) if I was gone to the grocery store longer than he thought appropriate, he would call repeatedly and then accuse me of bad behavior. If I put on makeup I was going to go whoring around. If I went to my friend's house, he would ruin it by calling me every 5 minute. He eventually separated me from my family and friends before I knew it even happened. The first outburst was him throwing a glass ashtray at me. I was on the phone with my ex-husband talking about my daughter and he said "I talked to him too long." The second physical outburst was because I wanted to go to bed and he was not ready so he dragged me naked and threw me out on the front lawn. It gets worse from there.

The verbal abuse to me is more damaging than the physical. Your body can heal. I tried to leave. The night I told him, was the night he raped me. So strange to me to use that word so I thought as we were living together and sleeping in the same bed but yes now I know it was. He did not use protection and as a result, I have a beautiful child. Please understand, Rape is not always physically violent. It is and can be manipulation and the fear of what would happen if you said no. My family begged me to leave.

I couldn't. They did not understand how a strong kick your ass woman would tolerate this.

Abusers do not always pick vulnerable women.

They like the challenge of trying to break a strong women down. This in my opinion, is the most dangerous of all situations.

The last night, I almost died. He came after me, with my kids in the house, and I tried to run and he caught me at the door and slammed my head repeatedly between the jam and the door. I fought and tried to run out of the back and he caught me and again did the same. From there, I ran into the bathroom, where he kicked the door in and had my baby in his arms (so I would not fight back). He shoved me in the shower and I got up and fought my way out of the door and made it to the hallway before he threw me down and started stomping on my chest. I got lucky, rolled into the bedroom, locked the door and had a hidden home phone. I called 911.

The cops came. My pjs were shredded. I was humiliated. They wanted to call an ambulance but I refused. The officer asked me to go look at myself. I did and was horrified by the damage he had done. My final wake was at the doctors the next day. The doctor said to me "if you do not get away from him, it's not if, it is when he is going to kill you." There was not one part of my body that was not bruised. This was not the end, the getting away was the hard part. He called constantly. He called my neighbors, showed up to my house. My therapist gave me the greatest advice-"Build your fence high". I stopped answering the phone. I set it up so we had no contact. He picked my daughter up from daycare and dropped her back there. I stopped responding to his texts no matter how nasty they were. I got strong enough to realize his threats were just that and when I took his power, he moved on.

Now if you think they will be better with the next partner, no they won't. So don't give into the fantasy of them getting better. It was not you and until they want help (while they usually don't) they won't change. So for my people in abusive situations, my advice is this - Reach out, get out, and build fences. There is life after this. I know I live a beautiful life everyday with people I trusted to protect me. Protection and love is not isolation and control. I could write a book but I hope this helps whoever needs to hear it. IT'S NEVER YOUR FAULT!

One never realizes the magnitude of a steep situation until they have finally made it through the

other side. Much like being caught in the eye of a storm, one is surrounded by chaos, but the only ones who can see its destruction are those on the outside. My close friends and family have given me countless warnings of how much of myself was being siphoned from this relationship, and I always chose to ignore them. They did not understand you like I did, nor did they see what I saw in you. Again, they were on the outside looking in, and like a clueless victim, I was blinded by and with a one-sided love. Looking back, I can see how powerful the storm was. However, it was not always dark clouds and heavy rain.

Back when everything was sunshine and rainbows, I was freefalling for you. I was beyond content that I had you as my girl because of how beautiful and creative you were. My days become so much brighter after you made strides with my family and friends because you were investing in me.

Though our families never really met, they got along well. They were cheering for us and were convinced that we were going to make it. Like a fool, I did too, and that was my downfall. Never noticing what was happening in our relationship, I looked past countless red flags. They way you preyed on my weaknesses. The way you manipulated me against some of my friends. The way you got me to spend more time with you than anyone else.

Suggestions on my character slowly became comparisons to other guys. In areas where 1 couldn't spoil you, the guys you would talk about would run laps around me. I felt horrible because I did not have the money at the time to take you out as frequently. I wanted to do all these amazing things, but due to my part time job at the time, I couldn't. At first, you did not seem to mind at all, but you grew tired of it fast. You ended up treating me to a few places, but you were never happy about it. It bothered you so much that you were pouring far more into events and gifts than I was. What's horrible is that I found other ways to gift and treat you, but they were not enough. / was not enough.

Your gifts would comprise of clothes that didn't exactly fit my style. I reminded you countless times on how I was not comfortable dressing like that, and you complained that I didn't appreciate what you brought me. After that, you'd bring up how you're always buying me clothes and whatnot, and how I never bothered to return the favor. I was paying for the car that we were BOTH using so that you could get to school and work. I lent you MY car, and I found other ways to get around. I left myself stranded at times just so that you could visit a friend or grab something from home. That car, a few minor bills, and my belongings were all I could afford. That was not enough.

When it came to living together, my things never seemed to reach the light. My room slowly became your room, and my little knick-knacks become junk. My closet space grew smaller, and so did my spine. I could never speak up on my boundaries because you always snapped back at me with an attitude and used it against me for the rest of the day. "What got into you? Why are you so mad at me all of a sudden? I don't need this; I'll just pack up and go. I was having such a good day until you ruined it with your nasty attitude. I was just trying something new, and now you're mad at me." The last thing I wanted was to drive you away, so I bit my tongue more times than I could count. Because of that, I lost out so many outings with friends, family, and even outings on my own. I did less of what I wanted to do and did significantly more of what you wanted to do. That's when I started to lose myself.

As my interests were being overwritten with loud groans, I dimmed down parts of me so that you could shine. I didn't play as many video games or watch as many movies because I knew you were never into that. I knew that because whenever I'd talk about these movies or games, you were expressionless. Every word I said went in one ear and right out of the other. Deep sighs of disappointments became frequent with you, so I didn't even bother. You wanted to hear something different from me, so I tried to get into things you might like. Again, you were far more absorbed in other people's stories of success and wealth than mine.

You grew tired of my undecisive mind when it came to school because I couldn't decide on a major. I did know what I wanted to pursue, but those majors never aligned with what you wanted for me. I thought about a career in music or audio engineering, but you mentioned how those are dimes in a dozen and how it's not a respectful career. You suggested business, medicine, finance, administration, and so many other big-time careers. Don't get me wrong, those all incredibly successful fields, but none of them struck my interest. I tried medicine, discovered that I was squeamish, and chose to pursue something else. Again, that was somehow my fault for not just getting over it like your friends did

Over time, my hopes and dreams became intertwined with yours because I chose to just become whatever you wanted me to. My mind was malleable to your will, so I decided to enter the competitive and cut-throat field of marketing. I never enjoyed class or made friends with any of my classmates because I was just not passionate about the subject. I tuned it out of my mind and continued anyway, but what I couldn't tune out was this new classmate of yours. You always spoke so highly of him and how incredibly smart he was.

His name would come up across countless outings because of how many things reminded you of

him. I never thought twice about it because it seemed like you were so happy about making a new friend. I believed that the things I did for you would always eclipse those who made advances towards you, but I was unfathomably wrong. You never cared about what I've done for you, it was about what I've done for you lately. The trips to the hospital, the canceling on friends, the assist on helping you move out to another state and back, and the love your family had for me never seemed to reach the bar that this guy had set. My sacrifices became a norm to you, and your eyes were already locked on someone else.

My heart broke when you told me you had feelings for him. I chose to look past that because I

thought that I could fix this. I was under the impression that a new crush was bound to happen after being with someone for five years, so maybe it was something you would eventually get over. You persuaded me to let it ride because you did not feel a strong connection to him, just sparks. I let it ride because i was so confident that I'd come out on top, but I was an absolute fool. I can't tell you how many times my heart disintegrated when his name popped up on your phone and you'd reply with a legion of colored heart emojis. I was doing this to myself by letting this happen, and I just couldn't let go of you. I was so certain that you would grow tired of him and come back to me because he did not have what I had.

You didn't exactly give me time to heal either, because you would still ask me out to dates and

personal outings, even if you did wear his hoodies while you were with me. You hung this hope above my head so well that you never paid for anything while we were out. In fact, after we were done hanging out, you would leave to go see him. My foolish self STILL thought I had a chance, but it was already over. I wish you had just left me alone so that I could move on, but you kept baiting me out and ! kept biting. It seemed you were undecisive too, and you eventually admitted that you were. You decided to keep me around because you didn't want to start the whole process of introducing a new person to the family and reaching milestones in a relationship. "Why go through all of that over again when ! already did it with you? Its just so much time and work, so I may as well stay with you." That wasn't enough for me, but I took it anyway.

As anyone could predict, our story slammed shut. You chose to move on with him and blocked

me across all platforms. I chose to use the money I saved up for a ring towards a trip to Florida. There, even with friends, I couldn't seem to get over you. I was consistently searching high and low for my fault because I felt like I set everything into motion. You fell for someone else for a reason and so the fault had to lie with me. What other catalyst for a breakup could there be? This guy had something I didn't, so what on God's green earth could it be? After trying everything and spending long nights replaying

memories of our relationship, I discovered that the reason I couldn't find my fault was because it did not exist. You were the one who got tired of playing with a spineless puppet, so you gave up.

The way you yelled at me in public and changed your attitude like a light switch when you were in the wrong, all made sense. All the blame you placed on me and all the things you pushed me to, came together because you were trying to condition and deviate me into someone else. When you realized that I was hopeless, you decided to move onto someone with more promise. After coming to that realization with my friends and family, I had no other choice but to move on. It is among one of the hardest things I've ever had to do because I was so wrapped up in you that I forgot who I really was. 1 hated myself. It took months to find my rhythm again because you always muted it. Eventually I was smiling again, and that smile caught the eye someone who I've been with for two years now.

She appreciates every little thing that i do for her, and instead of preying on my weaknesses, she

helps me come to terms with them. She listens to all my stories and invests a lot of her time into my interests, even if she is not into them. She taught me that it is far better to be with someone who doesn't need you, but genuinely wants you. We live our lives parallel to each other's while also making time for each other. We communicate, and if I speak up on something that is bothering me, she hears me out. Before her, I had to rediscover my worth and now she reminds me every. single. day.

To my audience, if there is anything to take away from this story, its to always know your worth.

Do not stay in the same sinking boat that I was in. Know who you are, and never let anyone try to morph you into something else. Do what makes you happy and find someone who will encourage those things instead of muting them. Find someone who you want, not someone that you need. If you feel like you can't breathe without the other person and that you wouldn't know what to do if they walked out on you, know that you can always let them go. You will move on, and you will find someone who loves you for you. It takes time, but it gets easier. If you don't want anyone, that's fine too. All that matters is that you do what makes you happy, do not live for someone else. You are not a puppet; you are a person.

Sometimes abuse creeps into your life so quietly that you hardly realize what is destroying you—until escape feels impossible. Dear friend, don’t believe the lies. No matter how dark things feel, there is always hope and life yet to be found. The journey can be painful, but freedom is possible. I entered marriage with a tender heart and the hope of building a loving, Christ-centered home. Sam (I have changed his name for privacy) was kind and generous when we dated. We dated for two years before our wedding. Having grown up entrenched in purity culture, we didn’t spend the night with each other until we were married. One of the first nights of our honeymoon, Sam began to drink liquor until he was visibly inebriated. It scared me as we rarely drank while we dated. When I begged him to stop and tried to take the bottle of liquor away, he shoved me down, calling me a “bitch”. I locked myself in the bathroom and was terrified I had made a big mistake. As the days and months went on, there were good moments that made me believe everything would be okay. The alcohol binges only happened every 1-2 months, I blamed his cruel and dehumanizing words on the drinking. We were blessed over the next few years with two beautiful children. With the joy of parenting also came the pressure and stress that accompanied the weight of responsibility. As time went on, lapses between binges became shorter and shorter. The more he drank, the sharper his words became. He would lash out—mocking, criticizing, calling me names that shattered my sense of worth—and then later act as though nothing had happened. Towards the end, he would become angry and call me names even while sober. I walked on eggshells, afraid to say the wrong thing. I began to doubt my own perception of reality. Was I overreacting? Too emotional? If I could just be calmer, more understanding, maybe he wouldn’t explode. I tried harder to please, to fix, to make peace. But no amount of love or prayer could stop the cycle. There were nights of tension and tears, followed by apologies that offered momentary relief—but never change. When I tried to express how deeply the words hurt, I was told I was “crazy” or “too sensitive.” Slowly, my confidence and joy drained away. I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder as well as hypertension requiring medication to bring down my elevated blood pressure. Baffled, my doctor would say “but you’re too young for high blood pressure”. Something is wrong with me, I thought. I kept telling myself that things weren’t “bad enough” to leave. The episodes of physical abuse were rare, I could count them on one hand. And after all, he wasn’t always cruel. He could be funny, generous, and even affectionate at times. That confusion—the contrast between kindness and cruelty—is part of what kept me trapped. I worried what leaving would mean for our young children. I was afraid I could never be strong enough to be a single mom. It wasn’t until I sought help and was connected with Kristianna Poole that I finally heard the truth: what I was living through was abuse. It took me years to understand and accept that his behavior was abusive. This may sound strange to an outsider, but you slowly become accustomed to the name calling, anger, and derision. It becomes a new baseline for your relationship and changes the way you perceive yourself. I learned that verbal and emotional abuse leave wounds every bit as real as physical wounds. They are just not as easily perceived by the outside world. Leaving was terrifying. I had little money and no certainty about the future, only a deep sense that God was calling me and my children to safer pastures. Through His grace and the kindness of friends who took me in without question, I found a refuge. I prayed, “Lord, if leaving is wrong, please close the doors.” But instead, he opened them—one by one. Creating a new life hasn’t been quick or simple. It has been a slow unfolding—through tears, counseling, and relearning what love is supposed to feel like. Yet even in the pain, I have seen God’s tenderness in a thousand small ways. I’ve learned that God’s heart breaks for the oppressed. He does not call His daughters to endure harm in silence. Marriage was never meant to be a weapon of destruction, but a reflection of Christ’s selfless love—protective, patient, and kind. I still grieve my relationship with Sam, but I no longer feel worthless or hopeless. My children have told me “Mommy, you are happier now, you don’t cry all of the time anymore”. I didn’t just leave for me, I left for them, for OUR future. To teach my sweet children it is not normal to be torn down by your partner again and again. To show them that this world so poorly reflects His love for us and He longs to bring us to a place of peace. When I first left Sam, I had an incredible feeling of walking out of the clouds into the sun. As I have journeyed forward, clouds have stirred up in the sky. Sometimes I walk through clouds of anxiety, fear of the future, and grief. But now, when I look ahead I no longer see a dark and gloomy path, I see light and freedom. God is good, and He sees every hidden tear, every whisper. You are not alone, let people help you. Take one step. There is light ahead, and you are worth the journey. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

I was a lowly immigrant who came from nothing and only made something of myself because I married him. That was one of the last blows he delivered to me in court during our divorce trial. The only shock I received from this statement was it being his first time he intentionally insulted my otherness in a public setting in the face of other people. I was used to him asking me as his wife in front of our kids; did my people catch fish with spears and with our teeth. I remember him asking if Trinidadians still walked around with our shirts off and breasts hanging out. Afterwards he would react surprised when the kids didn’t seem to respect me. He would tell them that I was Ms. Celie from The Color Purple. He would say, they should be glad that I stuck around for their mistreatment. I would think to myself ‘ “I guess that makes him mister” ‘. I would try to convince myself that he would never go as far as Mr. Would in that movie because he loved me as much as he said he did. I remember him crying on our wedding day. He had to have meant it. Fast forward to the summer of 2023 and I had found myself in what felt like a horrible lifetime movie of my own. I was in a Crisis intervention class pursuing my masters and was becoming educated about the different forms of domestic violence. I became more and more worried. I was finding myself between the pages of my text books. Realizing that I had been abused in multiple ways made me feel foolish. I married an advocate thinking that he knew what I had been through in my life before him and he would protect me no matter what. I had helped him raise 4 other kids during his parenting time. I considered myself to be an ally to abused women. Only to find out that I was truly in denial, suffering from long term ptsd, I had a severe amount of repressed memories after extensive gas lighting, intimidation, lovebombing. Later, I realized this was a true cycle of abuse. I became petrified after several escalating incidences of power, control, and violence. I got the courage to run when I was finally able to admit with the help of nurses, doctors, advocates and psychologists that I was sexually assaulted by my ex. I felt ashamed, stupid, confusion, guilty, responsible, afraid for my life. I felt stuck. Who would believe that the wife who barely showed her face was at home putting ice on blue and purple legs? Who would believe that my made up face was hit or that I had a knee to my neck the night before coming outside to greet our neighbors? It was a confusing, hurtful, rollercoaster learning to live with him as a stepmother to his children, mother to our surviving twin boy and trying to become the perfect wife. Why would he refuse to let me leave the house so many times? Why would someone who loves me use sensory overload to intimidate me?The sound of a garage door used to lock my vehicle in made it easy for him to predict and control my fearful behavior. Why would someone who loved me and our son tell me he hated me one day and that he couldn’t see life without me the next? After attempting to tell his family members what I was going through I know that I was not going to have help. They could not see this man as someone who truly needed help. How would they ever believe that he raped me, then apologized for my bleeding, and a month later deny that it happened? They only saw a good man. My abusers sister really drove to my home after I finally got the guts to address some of the abuse I’d experienced at her brother's hands. She refused the tour because it just wouldn’t have been fair to him, she said. Fast forward to the next couple of months after I finally got the courage to run, I found myself a part of a system where my painful story needed to be told over and over again but the laws and procedures made sure that our pain was pushed to the side time after time. After getting one restraining order; I had to rehash my story over and over again. Explaining how I had been staying safe from people tampering with my vehicle, stalking my home, intimidating me in front of my son, reporting my movements to my ex, monitoring devices left on my keys and vehicle, in my home and digital locks being opened while I was in my home. It was a nightmare. I am grateful to have had a connection with Be The Light and Kristiana. You picked up the phone on August 30th 2023 and never let a call go unanswered since. I was able to gain the courage to admit what a dangerous person I was living with. When I left, a lot more power and control was thrown in my direction; I had the support of her strong stance to catch me. Thank you for being an advocate and a friend. I am encouraging everyone here today to give your support to the Be The Light Foundation. There are so many more women out there just waiting to get out of darkness.