I’m Tiffany Durlak, and this is the tale of how I killed abuse and revealed a kind of love I never believed was possible for both myself and my children.
I was full of pride of the independence I had earned for myself while living alone in a small flat in New York. I met a charming man who said all the right things at a work occasions.
I held him right away because I was dying to feel wanted and loved.
Things quickly flew out of control. He moved quickly, busy my personal space, cut me off from friends and family, and coldly controlled me. I turn out to be pregnant with my son in three months.
I was pregnant when he first beaten me. I was pushed first, then hit, choked, and even stabbed. Beyond the bruises, there were deeper scars from the demonstrative abuse.
I gave birth to twin girls on the same day as my son’s birthday, two years after he was born. That common date turned into a representation of courage and stubbornness.
A few months after the twins were born, I finally left my abusive husband. I decided that I might as well do it alone since he was hardly there besides, and I did just that.
I became a single mother with two newborns and a toddler. I cried silently many nights, wondering how I would survive. But I had a determination because my kids thought I was fantastic.
I worked on myself and took some time to recover. I needed to love myself before I wanted to enter into a relationship. I was working at a social behavior school at the time, and I secretly protected feelings for a coworker named Brian.
Eventually, we were put in the same classroom and struck up a conversation, even though I didn’t think he would ever look my way.
When I eventually asked him out, I made the decision to tell him everything about my past during our first date. I thought he would leave, but he stayed.
After my kids went to bed, Brian and I started hanging out. He looked me in the eyes and said, “I want you,” after I clued-up him that I was incompetent to have any more children because I had my tubes tied. Nothing changes as a result.
He eventually met the children, and they connected right away. Similar family names, similar birthdays, and a sense of rightness were just a few of the delicate clues that suggested fate was at play.
Brian gave us a sense of security and his love was sincere. He took on the role of a father figure to the children, particularly after their biological father abruptly left them.
We were married in March 2018 after Brian proposed on Christmas Eve 2016. He vowed to the children as well as to me at the wedding. It was the most emotional time of my life.
After we got married, one of our idea was for Brian to adopt the kids legally. After a expanded legal battle that involved finding my abuser and dismissing his rights, we hired a videographer to document the adoption day. However, the adoption was finalized on January 10, 2019.
In a formal sense, Brian became their father. I couldn’t contain my tears of gratitude when the judge commended Brian for taking the initiative. At last, we were a whole family.
It has been a long and painful journey, but it has also been lovely and loving. “You love my mom and you make her laugh and also you don’t shout at her,” my son Noah, who recalls the abuse, once said to Brian. It was all useful because of that one sentence.
We are living examples of the existence of love, healing, and second chances. Together with my kids, I discovered the kind of love that I have been told in my past that I would never get to experience it.
