By Survivor Sally <\/p>\n\n\n\n
**The following is written by a survivor of domestic violence and abuse, recounting their story. Descriptions and details may be too graphic for some. Names have been changed to protect all involved.**<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My story, like many others, is one of pain, resilience, and redemption. I share it so that someone else\u2014someone living through the same nightmare\u2014knows it is not your fault and that you can survive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I became pregnant, my father kicked me out, leaving me pregnant, homeless, and desperate. My ex-boyfriend Johnny appeared and said he would marry me and raise my baby. I believed his promise of love and security. But on our wedding night, everything changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He slapped me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I told him no one\u2014not even my own father\u2014had ever hit me, and I wouldn\u2019t tolerate it. But I stayed. I believed his apology. I believed his words more than his actions. That was the beginning of the cycle of abuse\u2014violence, apologies, and promises that never lasted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Over the next several years, the abuse worsened. Drugs and alcohol fueled his rage. I tried to keep myself sober for the sake of my unborn child, but the violence became constant. He would beat me and force me to cover bruises so no one would see.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When our baby girl was born, I thought things might change. Instead, they got worse. He drank again and came home angry. One night, just after I\u2019d come home from the hospital, he forced himself on me. I said no\u2014again and again\u2014but he didn\u2019t stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
People like to say a husband can\u2019t rape his wife. That is a lie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I ended up pregnant again. My body hurt, my spirit broke, but I decided to keep my baby. By the end of that year, I gave birth to another little girl. I thought contraception would keep me safe\u2014if not from him, then at least from another pregnancy\u2014but nothing could protect me from his violence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Johnny\u2019s drinking and cocaine use never stopped. When he wasn\u2019t using, he was angry. When he was high, he was cruel. I turned to drugs myself\u2014not to party, but to survive. Being high dulled the pain, physically and emotionally.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But it came at a cost. I started losing pieces of myself. My daughters and I lived in fear until one night when he beat me so brutally that there was blood pooling around us. My four-year-old ran across the street for help. That was the night the police caught him\u2014and the night I finally ran for my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Escaping didn\u2019t mean the pain ended. I carried it inside me for years. I spent 22 years struggling with addiction, trying to numb the pain, the guilt, the hatred I felt toward myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Eventually, I met another man. He wasn\u2019t abusive; he helped me take care of my girls. But I still hadn\u2019t healed. It wasn\u2019t until I turned back to God that real change began. I finally learned that healing meant forgiving myself, not the man who broke me, but the woman who thought she wasn\u2019t worth saving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Through faith, I found freedom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Domestic violence is a cycle. It begins with apologies, promises, and false hope\u2014but unless the abuser gets sober and truly changes, the violence continues. The \u201choneymoon phase\u201d always ends in fear and pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If you\u2019re living in that cycle now, please\u2014get out while you can. There are people who care, who can help you find safety and peace. You do not have to face this alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n