My Survivor Story

This morning I read Ginger Zee’s personal experience on domestic abuse and it struck a chord with me in more ways than one. 

Twelve years ago, I ended my engagement with my abusive, narcissistic psychopath ex. It was an emotional and verbally abusive relationship. There was an incident where I feared for my life and knew I had to get out and end things once and for all. 

After ending my engagement, he stalked me & my daughter. He’d drive in our neighborhood to see what we were doing at random times of the day and night (mind you, he lived a good 30 minutes away from my condo). 

Quite some time after the break-up, he stalked the new guy I was dating. 

To avoid his unwanted text messages and voice mails (he’d call me and leave recordings of him out at night clubs to make me jealous) we changed our phone numbers so that he’d stop harassing us. I looked into a restraining order but that wouldn’t be enough. 

Even before Gabby Petito’s case, I have been thinking about my own experience and how after twelve years, it’s time to tell my story. There’s more, a whole lot more that I can touch on but for now, this is a start. 

While we lived an enviable life (living in a prestigious part of OC, driving expensive luxury cars, going on lavish vacations, etc…) there was a lot that people don’t see that goes on behind the closed doors in the gated community…it’s easy for others to judge you and think that “it can’t be that bad!!” Yes, it was “that bad!!” so bad that I moved my daughter and I out of his house while he was vacationing with his kids in Chicago, what does that tell you?!?!

I’m grateful I had the support of my family and friends to get out! I know that many don’t have this same opportunity. If you are in an abusive relationship, please know that you have options…call the cops, a pastor, counselor, friend….you are NOT ALONE!!

**Copied from Ginger Zee** 

We also know that not everyone in an abusive situation has the support or education to ask for help. They likely don’t believe they deserve it.

Psychological abuse is often a precursor to physical and sexual abuse.

If someone had shown me these questions back then, I could have also answered yes and more. I feel so fortunate to have gotten out. Please tell someone if you are answering yes to any of this or more:

Does your partner:
• Threaten to harm you, your children, your family and/or your pets?
• Tell you are worthless and that no one else will ever love you?
• Isolate you from your friends and/or family?
• Control your behavior and monitor your movements and whereabouts? • Tell you that you are crazy?
• Demean you in public or in private?
• Constantly criticize you?
• Blame you for everything that goes wrong?
• Stalk you?
• Cause you to feel guilt over things that are not your fault?
• Threaten to take away your children

If so, your partner may be abusing you. For help, contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800- 799-SAFE (7233), or visit to access professional help. 

One Day at a Time 21 Years Later; My Survivor Story

November 14th 2019 


I have been a survivor of domestic abuse for almost 22 years! I dealt with physical and emotional abuse from my ex-husband, who started hitting on me once we were officially married in 1995 when I was 24 years old.

This person used me as a punching bag for a hobby. What made things worse was that I had no help from family members or the authorities! The police laughed at me and when it came time for court visits, my ex would threaten me to not enter the court room. The cases would get thrown out because of this!

I was able to obtain a protection order, which meant nothing to my abuser and he violated it several times. I dealt with the abuse for 3 years and suffered many physical, mental, and emotional wounds. I was able to finally get away from my abuser once he committed a crime that the police deemed to be illegal enough for him to be arrested. He was given 12 years in prison for breaking the law and that didn’t include hitting on me. He was never convicted of spousal abuse.

In my case no matter where I went my ex-husband would come looking for me so, leaving wasn’t an option. I finally divorced him and once it was final he left me alone. I survived, but I still suffer from many issues! I’m taking things one day at a time 21 years later.

My Survivor Story

October 24th, 2019

I have come here to write my story after a quick burst panic attack. I need to get this out of my system.

I grew up in a very religious family. Went to church twice a week, preached the “good news”, went to religious conventions every couple of months. At one of these religious conventions I met my soon to be husband. I was 17 at the time.

We were head over heals for each other, I thought he was perfect in every way. In our religion, dating is taken very seriously. You only date with the view to get married, and you cannot be in the same room without a chaperone.

So, at 19 I was married, he was only a few years older.

Everything was amazing, until it wasn’t. It was very gradual. He had a particular fetish that I wasn’t comfortable with. He also enjoyed filming it and taking photos to look at after. I remember crying afterwards out of humiliation. But he said it was my biblical duty as a wife to ensure that his needs are met. He would show me scriptures and manipulate me into believing it. At one point I would always make the excuse that my tummy hurt or I had a headache, which he would get moody and start nagging. I would always give in. At the end of the day, I do blame myself, I allowed myself to be put in these situations. In situations where I was humiliated, hurt and left in danger. Often I was left tied alone for hours while he went to church, or the shops. I feel anxious and shaky right now just thinking about it, the feeling of the numbing pain in my wrists, hands and feet as the circulation cut off. I remember one time the pain was so great that I passed out for about 20 minutes, I can’t explain the panic I felt when I woke up alone in that situation. I used to ask him to leave it a bit looser but he didn’t want to because it wasn’t real enough.

But I loved him and it made me happy to make him happy. I thought it was worth the suffering because that is what a good wife does for the husband she loves.

Within 6 months of our marriage I started feeling anxious and depressed, I started getting suicidal thoughts. My GP prescribed me with antidepressants.

It got worse when the the emotional and verbal abuse started. I was now not good enough. He often told me that he felt left out when he saw other women. He wished he could be with them instead. He often belittled me because I didn’t earn enough. He often told me that I was too short. He told me that he didn’t want to have children with me because he would feel sorry for them if they were my height. Mind you I am a fairly average height.

All these things were said continually and gradually intensified, they were always said in a calm rational voice, not in any arguments. I would naturally get quite upset. I felt unappreciated, I felt used, I felt belittled.

Whenever I got upset with the things he was saying and the things he was doing to me, he would call me crazy. I believed him.

During this time, I had intense thoughts about suicide almost everyday. One day I went to the shops, purchased a knife and sat under a bridge in a secluded park for a good couple of hours. I wanted to die. But was too scared of the pain. Eventually I went home where I got an earful from him again, I regretted not taking my life.

After a little while, I came up with a full proof plan. It would be a pain free and peaceful death. Now that I had the plan, I started choosing my date.

This is when I realised, I don’t want to die. A week later while my husband had gone to church, I packed all I could and left. I never felt so much relief.

We are now happily divorced.

Overall, I don’t regret the experience. I built myself from the ground up and I have learnt to be a stronger person. I have learnt to rely on myself. I will never allow myself to be put in a situation where I don’t feel comfortable or valued as a human being.

I am a Survivor

July 7th, 2019

My story starts out as everyone’s, he was sweet kind, bought me a car, helped me with things around the house. I noticed some signs, one was other girls texting him about coming over but I thought we just started dating let it go, so I would ask him and he said “why are you doing this?” I respond “I’m sorry I should not have even looked at your phone.”

I was always saying sorry, I was always thinking well maybe if I didn’t ask you so many questions you wouldn’t have yelled at me. Days went on things would be going well then he would switch and say “Why the fuck are you here?” “You are so crazy no one likes you!”

Then I started to think I am crazy some days but it’s because of the things you tell me, but maybe I shouldn’t react that way. Your right I have no one around anymore it is me. Then the hits would start coming in, first it was a push or pulling of the hair. Then one night he threw me down, kicked me, spit in my face saying “You are a worthless cunt!” Then he punches me in the head and then chokes me. I’m crying in pain yelling, he then comes grabs me hands me an ice pack and cuddles me and says “Well if you wouldn’t have gotten mad and started yelling, or acting crazy I wouldn’t have to set you straight.”

You know, you are right maybe I did over react again, maybe you just didn’t want to do something with me and I should not have asked you any questions. Months pass and you tell me I’m Mental, I have no friends, no one will love me again, you are gaining weight, you are eating a lot. The words just go threw my head and I think well he is right.

Then another argument happens and this time I try to fight back I throw things, I am screaming at how much I hate him and why do you treat me like this. Next thing I’m laying on the floor holding my face crying, can’t even speak and all you say is “you fucking done now, get the fuck out” I start walking to the door with my phone this time I am calling you in.

I go to work with bruises, you broke my hand once, and I lie about what is going on, you lie and say that I’m crazy. So no one will believe me when I say you hit me because they have seen me argue with you. But they don’t know you start it, you poke at me when we’re around friends then when I react you get mad and hit me and say stop doing this you have no friends because of this.

It’s been awhile we are on a date you were going to leave I asked for my keys so I could drive home. I wanted my keys! I didn’t yell or anything I was so calm. I see a couple walk by the disappear in the dark, next thing you attacked me in PUBLIC! You punched my head again so many times, you already hurt my jaw from before and you make my head worse again.

You choke me, I can’t breath you try to gag me with your fingers saying “shut up stop fucking screaming what is wrong with you? are you that mental?” I can’t answer I can’t speak but I yell help! This time I’m saved this time I call the cops, this time people seen you attack me! You get out and I come to see you, you start with your mental abuse towards me so I throw a small box of mine and say “you have fucked with my head long enough” I have hit my mental breakdown point.

He comes at me throws me down, punches me and walks away saying “you just want me in jail that’s why you do this you want me to have nothing because your jealous of me and that I have a life and friends” this time I don’t take blame! It’s not me, I have had friends they became distant because i wouldn’t do anything, I would cover things up for you. You never meet my friends but I meet yours. It was always with your friends and not mine. So I always had friends but it was easier to show your friends who I wasn’t then try to show my real friends that I’m so crazy because they know the truth.

You tell your friends lies so it’s easy, the police think I lie because you sweet talk them and as soon as they leave you take my phone, you hit me and say next time won’t be a next time I’ll have you gone before you can even grab your phone you worthless cunt.

I stayed 3 years because I loved him, I still loved him! I’m now obsessed over him, and I’m really doing things I have never did to someone because you have me so mentally unstable thinking I can’t do anything on my own so I beg to come back even though I didn’t do anything you attacked me you hit me you abused me. But I’m begging for you not to leave? But I’m not begging I deserve to love myself again and be happy and have my life back.

You will not take my life, I am going to better without you.

A Survivor’s Story

October 1, 2019

It started off as any typical abusive relationship: prince charming – handsome, tall and funny, bombarded me with affection, gifts and attention until by the time the red flags started to pop up, it was too late. I was in love and totally ignored them. Finding out his relationship with his ex-wife got to the point where they were taking pictures of their bruises, wasn’t enough for me to make me run.

I am a 30-year-old woman who spent the last 3 years of her life in an on-off abusive relationship. I won’t list all the things that happened but instead how I managed to get out and not go back for the 100th time.

Unless it is physical abuse, it is hard to recognise that you are being abused. You are in love, he makes you think it’s all your fault, your self-esteem is virtually gone and you try to make him happy no matter what but somehow nothing works. People don’t see the bruises on your soul, on your heart. They just think you are snappy, rude and distant for no other reason than character fault. By this point you barely have any friends left thanks to all the emotional blackmail and jealousy.

After a holiday that went terribly wrong and just confirmed my suspicion that my physical safety might be in danger next to him, I turned to Dr. Google. Started to fill out questionnaires, read all the warning signs, blogs – I was shocked. As I found out, I was abused and I didn’t know it.

Realizing that it is happening to you is half the success. I started to educate myself on this matter. YouTube, Ted talks, movies, books, statistics, whatever I found. I made it my second full time job.

I ended up having a separate folder in my phone for screenshots, I had Sally Challen’s picture as my screensaver so when I looked at my phone I could imagine her saying “get out before it’s too late”.

I was lucky enough to have two friends who didn’t get offended by my disappearance but understood what I went through and listened and listened and had the patience to deal with my meltdowns over again. I owe them my sanity.

Every time a nice memory popped up in my head, I said to myself “it was just love bomb. It was to make you stick around for the abuse.”

On a monthly basis I started to write a diary of how I mentally, physically feel. As the months were passing, reading back now I can see how I got better and better. How I went from emotionally numb and barely able to eat to smiling for no reason. The lack of constant explosions, the lack of feeling like being on a war line in a hyper alert state made me bounce off the walls from happiness. Suddenly I had all this energy. My phone pinged and my heart didn’t sink, waiting for him to sarcastically say “oh, someone is popular today”.

Another important thing was to let go the anger and hate. I try not to look at it as he robbed me off of 3 years. He is not evil just ill. The chances of him having a healthy, happy relationship are slimmer than I will ever get. I try to see it as a valuable lesson. As a person, after all this – I feel like I’m much stronger and wiser than I was when I met him. Standing up for myself gave me a self-respect that I lacked. I am also glad to know about all this for the sake of people in my life, I feel like now I can read the signs I didn’t know existed before and my knowledge of it might come handy to someone else in the future.

My next step is – finding out why I go for the “bad guys”. We all have a type. My type has always been the loudmouthed, opinionated, risk taker who people usually call “the toxic alpha”. Quoting Mary J Blige, “Bad boys aint no good, Good boys aint no fun” – I’m not saying is true but certainly what applies in my case. The bad guys been fun. That impulsive high energy channelled in the right direction is exciting and makes your adrenaline hit the sky.

Am I drawn to danger? Do I have some issues I don’t know about and have to work on to not end up in the same situation? Is it possible to find a guy who makes my eyes roll back from pleasure instead of boredom and he won’t scream my head off one hour later for missing the right floor with the elevator? I know really nice people that say they always end up in the friend zone and I am guilty of doing that. They always end up fixing my laptop and being a shoulder to cry on. I know they are the good ones but I just don’t have the same attraction for them – this is going to be the homework of my life.

If you are stuck in an abusive or toxic relationship – please do believe me, the grass really is greener on this side. I know you are scared to leave but right now is this the life you really want to live? I know it’s a nightmare and the honeymoon phase make it so addictive but once you got out, you will laugh and cry in the same time. You will find yourself in place you forgot existed. It’s not your fault. Don’t let anyone steal your sunshine.

Brutal Love

September 21st 2019 

I sit alone in my perfectly organized house, immaculate due to an abundance of idle time. I glance at the clock which reads 3am I force myself to get up off the couch. I rinse my ice cream bowl. I wonder to myself what mood will he be in if he chooses to return from this bender on this morning. I start my bedtime routine by going upstairs and washing my face, getting into pajamas and tucking myself into bed. My only company, our loyal dog Waylen who nestles on my feet at the base of the bed. I feel anxious, worried he is dead. But then part of me feels relieved because I don’t have to deal with anything crazy this morning before work.

As I drift off to sleep I am awoken by the muffled sound of a loud exhaust through the dense falling snow. I get up and run to the bedroom window. I see Andy’s truck. Oh no! Trent’s home. I rush downstairs while wrapping my heavy fleece rob around myself. I put on my ugg boots so I can walk onto the front porch.

I stand by in dismay as Andy gets out of his truck. I don’t see anyone in the passenger seat. Then Andy comes around the back of his truck and drops the tailgate. He tugs at something to dislodge it from the deep snow on the bed of his truck. A body comes sliding off the truck and lands with a thud in the snowbank at the end of my driveway. I recognize Trent’s lifeless body. Andy looks at me with a long drawn face. “He’s all yours, I can’t take anymore tonight.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” I yearn for answers. Trent has been gone for over 24 hours and I have had no contact. I had sent a million text messages with no response.

Andy replies “We’ve been at hunting camp. He got into an argument with another guy at camp. So I decided I would offer him a ride home. But in the truck he started pointing his loaded gun out the window and threatening to shoot into random houses as we drove by. Then I wrestled him into the back of the truck which wasn’t much of a fight. His gun is in my truck I’m taking it with me. Tell him he can call me in the morning for it. When he’s sober.”

I look at Trent’s frozen body. His lips are purple. “What am I supposed to do with him? I can’t leave him here and I sure as hell can’t carry him in the house.”

“I will get him in the house. Then I’m done.” Andy states. He then grabs him by the ankles as if he were a dead deer being dragged ready for hanging and butchering. Trent’s body leaves a trail through the fresh fallen snow. Andy doesn’t even hesitate when he reaches the front steps swiftly he drags Trent’s body his head bouncing off each step. He pulls him far enough into the entry way to close the door.

“Andy, I need more information. Who did he get into the fight with? Why was he trying to hurt innocent people on the drive home?”

Andy simply asks “You got a joint?” I quickly retrieve one. We sit together and smoke while Trent’s body thaws on the floor. As he slowly exhales a big cloud of smoke he looks at me with his giant dark eyes and says “I’m just so exhausted. I will tell you more tomorrow. I need to get home to bed.” As Andy pulls away I watch his truck lights disappear in the thick falling snow. Then I kneel down beside Trent and lay my head on his chest. He is breathing and his heart is beating. I decide it’s best to leave him where he lies for the night.

I once again climb into my comfy bed with Waylen at my side. When suddenly I am awoken to a hard cold object pressing on my forehead. I gasp. I open my eyes and there is Trent standing beside our bed with a riffle between my eyes. I slide to the other side of the bed as I sit up. He then points the gun at Waylen and says “I will kill him, then you and then myself.”

My mind starts racing. Where did he get the gun? Andy said he took his gun with him. Then I remember there was another behind the freezer in the laundry room. Fuck. Why is he so mad? Waylen is crouching in fear and shivering. The only thing I know to do is to be normal. So I say “Are you hungry? Can I make you something to eat?”

He screams like there is a demon inside of him. “Fuuuuuck you, you will never understand me!”

“I want to try so please just let me make you something to eat and we can talk about it.” I then get out of bed and head downstairs to the kitchen. He follows close on my heels with the gun tucked under his forearm. He is so drunk he needs to lean against the wall as he stubbles down the stairs. I fumble around the kitchen trying to prepare a grilled cheese but I’m shaking so bad and my mind is spinning. He stands in the doorway to the kitchen swaying trying to focus his eyes. I decide this is my moment I lunge toward him to grab the gun. I get a firm hold with both hands and being twisting and pulling. I rip it free. I run for the front door and throw it into the deep snow.

“You stupid bitch” he slurs. He then tries to push me aside to retrieve the gun. I run ahead of him and try to bury it in the snow. I am in my pajamas and the snow is so cold it burns my finger tips as I vigorously continue to dig. Suddenly I feel the weight of his body on top of me. He presses my face into the freezing snow. It feels like needles are ripping away my skin. Then I feel his fingers dig into my side as he flip me onto my back. He pins my hands down over my head and his face is inches from mine. “Come on honey, let’s go to bed, I want to hold your sexy body.” His breath reeks of alcohol. He gets off me and takes my hand to help me up out of the snow. I take his hand grateful he has stopped trying to find the gun.

We climb into our bed and he spoons me from behind. He falls asleep quickly and I feel his breath on the back of my neck and it sends shivers down my spine with every exhale. I can’t even close my eyes. I just wait for an hour till I have to get up for work.

My alarm sounds at 6am. I get up like any other day and shower, do my hair, do my make-up. I check on him before I leave and he is peacefully snoring under the covers in our bed. As I drive into the clear morning after the storm I blare my music in my shit box 1986 Jetta and I begin to cry. Tears which carry so much pain. Pained not from the traumatic experience of the night before. But rather pained because this is not the first time an incident like this has happened but this is the worst experience thus far. I cry because I know this is the beginning of the end. I cry because I know I must muster up unimaginable strength. I cry because I’m scared of what’s to come if I don’t. And worst of all I cry because I love him.