I was living on my own in New York in a tiny apartment. Small, but it was mine. One night, my job had a mandatory event, and that’s where I met him. He came over to talk, and I gave him my number. I thought, “Why not? I’m single, I can have some fun.” I had no idea that night would change my life.
We went on a date. I paid for my meal, he paid for his. I should have seen the warning signs. But I wanted love so badly, I ignored them. He moved in fast, said all the right things, and made me feel amazing. Slowly, though, the cracks started showing. He pushed into my space, made me feel like my family and friends were a problem, and expected me to be a stepmother to his oldest son. He made me doubt myself, but I stayed.
After three months, i found that i was expecting. That’s when the abuse began. At first, it was pushing, then hitting, choking, and even stabbing me in the hand. There was emotional abuse too, the kind that sticks with you for years.
I had my son, and two years later, twin girls, on the same date as my son, October 13th. Leaving the hospital with two newborns and a toddler alone was terrifying. My abuser wasn’t around, so I realized I had to leave for good. I wanted my kids to grow up somewhere safe.
Raising three kids alone wasn’t easy. At night, I would cry, not knowing how I would make it through.
But my children needed me, and that became my strength. I focused on healing and learning to love myself. I wasn’t ready to date anyone.
Then came Brian. I had a crush on him at work but thought he would never notice me. Somehow, he did. We started talking, texting, and eventually went out for drinks. I was terrified to tell him about my past, but I did. I told him everything my abuse, my kids, my fears. I thought he would walk away. He didn’t. He stayed.
When Brian met the kids, it felt right. He fit into our lives naturally. We had so many coincidences: our sisters’ names, birthdays, family anniversaries. Brian’s love was real. He made us feel safe. When my abuser stopped seeing the kids, Brian stepped in completely. He didn’t just love me, he loved my children like they were his own.
Brian proposed on Christmas Eve 2016, and we married March 24, 2018. During our honeymoon, we talked about our goals, including him adopting the kids. The adoption day, January 10, 2019, was overwhelming. Seeing the kids happy and hearing the judge thank Brian for stepping up, it was everything I’d hoped for. Finally, we were a complete family.
Noah, my oldest, had carried so much shock. He had to protect me as a child. But with Brian, he could be a kid again. The twins budded too, surrounded by love and steadiness. Brian never gave up, never judged me for my past, not ever treated me like I had too much gear. He loved me and the kids purely.
Life hasn’t been perfect. I still have nightmares, and moments of fear. But with Brian and the kids, I have light. We added a dog to our family after my surgery, and every year we celebrate milestones, love, and our bond. Brian taught me to love myself again, to laugh without shame, and to embrace who I am.
I want anyone reading this to know: you can survive hell and still find love and happiness. Leaving is hard, but it’s possible. You are not alone. Fairy tales exist, not just in movies. I’m living that reality now in a small town in Antioch, Illinois. Open your heart, allow yourself to heal, and remember there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.
