This is Me

The lasting effects of domestic violence and abuse are not always black and white. As I'm learning to accept the harshness that was my reality, better understand the ways in which the abuse I endured have shaped the person I am, and am growing into the person I was meant to be - I'm realizing that this struggle is long, hard, and lonely. That the world - society - pushes against survivors as we strive to take our lives and freedoms back. We are brushed under the rug and, as I have recently experienced, not always seen or heard when we should be. Law does not protect us, or assist us in protecting our children. And many of the people we look to for support turn their heads the other way

Sweet Teas

The sweet teas sat, guiltily untouched, in their rightful cup holders. How dare they be so expensive. How dare she quietly ask him to "stop" when he started bitching about the cost ($4.85 for two larges) in a voice that made the baby startle and the drive-thru worker look at her with pity.

She should have known better.

His voice boomed, clapping like thunder in the small SUV as they drove away from Wendy's. She drove silently, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay so not to upset him even more.

Breaking My Silence: Intro

I am 36-years-old.  I am a woman. A mother. A daughter. A sister. A cousin. A niece. A grand-daughter. An aunt. A friend. A girlfriend. A co-worker. A paralegal. A student. A writer. I am a fighter. A survivor. A warrior. A beautifully broken soul. It took fourteen years, five months, and  eight days to “break” … Continue reading Breaking My Silence: Intro