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Escaping Abuse: A Journey from Fear to Empowerment

By Survivors Tracey

Below is a condensed version of my story. Thank you for all you to spread awareness and provide support and hope for those affected by abuse! 

There I was, staring into the mirror on an early November day in 2022 and not recognizing the woman looking back at me. That scared me to death, and it was the defining moment when I chose to plan my escape from Bill, the man I met a few years after my 30-year marriage ended, the man who was horribly abusing me.

I was exhausted and paralyzed by fear. A prisoner in my own home, in a city new to me, and subject to daily psychological abuse, threats, and stalking. Bill would inflict physical pain on me, but nothing that would leave a mark. After all, Bill was deemed a pillar in the community, so his pathological behavior had to be very well planned and hidden. No one could know there was a loaded gun under the bed. No one could know he followed me when I left the house. The man who would hold my hand while strolling through the neighborhood drawing envy, keep the vases filled with fresh flowers because I loved them, insist I fly first-class when flying home to visit my family. The successful businessman and philanthropist who valued family. This was the man who was horribly abusing me behind closed doors.

My stomach was sick, my head spinning, by body weak and worn out, my usual happy smiling face was lost. How would I plan my escape safely? Where would I go? How would I tell my family? Oh my God, I spent nearly all the money I had left relaunching my jewelry business that may no longer be viable, so what would I do professionally? I needed a home, a job, and belongings. I felt so stupid. How could this happen to me- an intelligent, educated, accomplished woman with an amazing family and friends? As I stared into the mirror, I realized this was the only time in my life when I questioned if I had the tools in my toolbelt to get myself out. I was scared to death.
I had seen the rage when Bill felt like he wasn’t in control, so I had to be very strategic planning my escape. My heart is pounding as I dial my two sons to tell them what is happening. I feel sick. “That mother fu**er, we’re coming to get you now, mom.” “Not yet”, I said…”I need you to trust me. I know this man better than anyone”. My ego would not let me ask my sons if I could crash on their couch, and I cannot go to a shelter- I am not that woman. I was dressed in shame. My heart was pounding as I dialed my mom’s number. I needed to focus and maintain a clear head. The holidays are here, and we have guests coming, so I must dig deep and fake it. I must be the holiday hostess while I’m dying inside.

The plan was in place. My son would fly out after the holidays and drive back to Chicago with me. I won’t tell Bill I’m leaving until two days before, but he senses I am not happy because I’m horrible at pretending. My clothing is getting loose and the circles under my eyes cannot be camouflaged any longer with makeup. I’m pouring too many glasses of wine.

I found the courage to ask my dear friends if I could stay with them when I got back to Chicago because my ego would not all me to ask my sons if I could crash on their couch. They welcomed me with open arms. Would they or anyone believe Bill intentionally made me fall off a boat in Lake Michigan at 10pm then stood there with a smile on his face while I bobbed up and down because the layers of clothing I was wearing soaked up so much water I felt like I had a 50 lb. weight around my ankles?

I didn’t want to tell Bill until two days before, but now he knows I’m leaving, and I have five days left. The verbal abuse and threats are overwhelming, so I start recording them. I’ll stay in the guest bedroom in the basement because there is a lock on the door. A lock he would break that night. As I dug my fingernails into my stomach while hearing his footsteps coming down the stairs, I said out loud “Dear God, help me”.

I was so filled with anxiety I could not stay there any longer, so the next morning I went to a hotel for the last three days. Two days to go and my son will be here. Bill is gone so I’m running home to pack my things before he gets back. As I pull up in front of the house, I can see his car coming from the opposite direction. My heart starts pounding. Very nicely he says “I just need a minute” so I walk into the house behind him thinking he will leave again. Two hours later he was on one knee proposing to me while sliding a ring on my finger. The same man who one day prior told me repeatedly what a piece of shit I am is now asking me to be his wife. I slowly slid the ring off my finger while the glare from the sun bounced off it. I looked Bill in the eyes and “You’ll never be enough for me” rolled off my lips. I didn’t know then that the most dangerous time in an abusive relationship is when you tell your abuser you are leaving because they feel desperate when they lose control. This time is often fatal.

Two days later my son arrived- we packed my car and hit the road. Twelve hours later and exhausted we arrived in Chicago. I could finally take a deep breath- I was finally free- I just a couple weeks to get back on my feet and I’ll be good. When I woke up the next morning, I had a dozen text messages from Bill professing his love for me. Little did I know Bill would continue to stalk me for the next 18 months. Little did I know PTSD was knocking on my door. Little did I know Bill intentionally sabotaged my new business. Little did I know my long road to recovery was just beginning. What I did know is that I was blessed to have my family and friends there for me. But I felt so desperately alone. I had no choice but to find the silver lining in my experience and turn it into something filled with hope and impact.

I am a domestic violence victor, not a survivor because I didn’t just survive the abuse, I won the battle and took my power back.
I am often asked where I found the strength to rescue myself from Bill. I honestly don’t know how to answer this question, but I know one thing for certain. God led me down this path for a reason. I am right where I am meant to be, and I am doing what I was born to do….using my voice and story to help other survivors not just get to the finish line, but step across it as victors.

Dear Fear, I am safe now. I have healed and I no longer need you. Life has and will continue to throw me off my path, but I find my way back because I know my core confidence will never be affected by life events. I am and will always be the same person I was the day I took my first breath. I am love. I am kindness. I am intelligence. I am generosity. I am creativity.

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