I believe sharing one’s story can motivate others to find strength and courage. Even though I feel anxious writing this, I am taking a deep breath and telling my truth. I’ve come a long way from the simple girl I once was.
All the red flags were there, but I ignored them because I saw potential. I thought my love could change him, but you cannot change a narcissist. The love, kindness, and heart I gave were exactly why he pointed me. He played on all my good qualities and tried to break me. I came close to letting him. I took on the role of a wife without ever being proposed to, catering to him, cooking, cleaning, caring for my children, and embracing in care for myself whenever I could. I was never appreciated. Constantly insulted, belittled, and discarded.
He would build me up only to knock me down. One tactic was loving bombing, taking us to dinner, the movies, or shopping, making the day feel perfect… until he ruined it. A slight perceived attitude in the car could trigger accusations. If I didn’t answer a question the way he wanted, I was supposedly thankful.
Gaslighting, manipulation, confusion these were everyday tools he used to control me. “Discarding” meant ignoring me, obsessing me, dismissing calls and texts. My children and I eventually found relief when he left for work, because we could finally breathe and be ourselves. Walking on shells around him became the norm, and I had to teach my kids to behave carefully just to avoid conflict.
One memory stands out painfully: Amaiya, my youngest, hit her sister. He forced her to apologize by holding her upside down, terrified, until she complied. I grabbed her and confronted him, saying, “Don’t you ever touch Amaiya like that again, you bully!” Even Madi, my other daughter, cried in fear and clung to her sister.
Intimacy became a burden. I felt cheap, obligated, and exhausted. I wanted to disappear, betraying myself each time. Once, he returned drunk, and when I tried to avoid him, he forced himself on me. I held my pain inside and said “NO,” even when he asked if pinching my shoulder hurt.
Through years of psychological, verbal, and sometimes physical abuse, my children suffered alongside me. When I was pregnant with Amaiya, he shoved me out of the car. I fell, thankfully unhurt, and he called me names as he drove away. I thought I could handle him, how foolish that was.
I felt struct in a fog of confusion, heartbreak, and betrayal. It was a war in my mind, a constant struggle to break free from the control he had over me. But I never gave up. I joined support groups, attended therapy, and focused on self-care and self-love.
With my family’s help, I eventually left Orlando, Florida, taking my children to New York City to start over. We stayed with my mother for a year, then entered the housing system. During this time, I gave birth to my son and received a diagnosis of Polycystic Kidney Disease. I made the mistake of letting him back into our lives, but the abuse returned. After six months, I removed him for good. Six months later, I was approved for an apartment of our own.
I haven’t reached my happily ever after yet, but God has provided a preserve for me and my children. Life still brings challenges, a new diagnosis, an attack on a family member, but I now have full custody, a two-year protection order, and legal protections in place.
I may have had moments of weakness, but I am awake now. I strive to empower, inspire, and support others dealing with domestic abuse. I offer my friendship, knowledge, and support, and I will stay motivated and strong for others while facing my own tests.
