Welcome to my corner of the internet. Where I explore the dynamics of relationships and the complexities of life from a woman’s perspective. Through my writing, I aim to express my emotions and share my journey in a world that often feels harsh and unforgiving. This blog is my outlet- an honest space where vulnerability meets creativity. I hope my stories resonate with you and offer a sense of connection. Join me as we embark on this exploration together, celebrating the beauty of resilience and the art of living fully. Thank you for being here.

From Victim to Survivor: Reclaiming My Power After Abuse

Blaming someone who abused us feels natural. We want to scream. We want to tell their new partner how awful they are, to let the whole world know what they did. We crave justice, validation, and the reassurance that someone understands our pain. We want everyone to hate them as much as we do.

But here’s the truth: none of that truly heals us.

For a fleeting moment, it might feel like power. But revenge doesn’t fix the damage they caused. It doesn’t rebuild our sense of self. It doesn’t undo the pain. Real healing doesn’t come from shouting at the world—it comes from reclaiming our energy, our voice, and our power. And sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is choose silence.

Silence is not submission. It’s strength. When we stop giving our abuser our energy and attention, we take back control. We stop letting the past consume us. We choose to move forward. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting, and it doesn’t mean condoning what happened. It means refusing to let the past define our future.

What Abuse Looks Like

Abuse isn’t always as obvious as people think. It’s not just physical violence. It can be psychological, verbal, emotional—or a combination of many things.

Sometimes, we don’t even recognize abuse until years later. Society teaches us to view abuse in black and white: Did they hit you? No? Then it must not have been abuse. But the reality is far more complex. Abuse can be subtle, insidious, and hard to identify.

It took me years to understand the trauma I carried. I didn’t want to face it. Pushing it down felt safer—easier. I buried it under layers of sarcasm, drugs, and alcohol, pretending it didn’t exist. But the things we bury don’t stay buried. They resurface in our relationships, our decisions, and even our health. They silently guide us, steering us into places we don’t belong.

The Cycle of Abuse

Once you’ve been abused, it can feel like abusers can sense it. It’s as though we carry an invisible sign that says, “Target here.”

At first, they seem perfect. They charm us, break down our walls, and convince us they’re different. They tell us they understand our pain, that they want to help. But abusers don’t empathize—they exploit.

Once they believe they’ve got us, their mask starts to slip. The lies grow bolder. The anger sharper. The manipulation clearer. We see glimpses of their true self, but we hold on to the version of them we fell for. We tell ourselves they’re just having a bad day. That they’ll change. That this isn’t who they really are.

By the time the abuse escalates, we’re trapped. Not physically, perhaps, but emotionally. They’ve broken us in places we didn’t even know could be broken, and we can’t imagine life without them.

Breaking Free

Leaving an abusive relationship is never easy. It feels impossible at first. You’re not just walking away from a person—you’re walking away from a version of yourself.

For me, the turning point came when I stopped blaming them and started looking inward. Not to excuse what they did—but to ask myself hard questions. Why did I accept this? Why didn’t I see my own worth?

I realized I had allowed people into my life who didn’t value me because I didn’t value myself. I accepted lies, manipulation, and the bare minimum because I thought it was all I deserved.

Taking accountability wasn’t about blaming myself. It was about reclaiming my power. I told myself I am enough. I am worthy of love. I deserve better. And slowly, I began to believe it.

The Work of Healing

Healing isn’t a one-time decision. It’s a daily practice. It’s waking up every morning and choosing to face your pain head-on. It’s sitting with the discomfort, the memories, and the shadows of what was, and deciding: I will not let this define me.

It’s exhausting. It’s messy. And some days, it feels impossible. But with time, it gets better. The wounds don’t disappear, but they stop controlling you. You start to see your own strength. You look in the mirror and, for the first time in a long time, you see someone worth loving.

Finding Yourself Again

Writing became my therapy. It gave me a way to take the chaos in my mind and turn it into something I could understand. For others, it might be art, music, journaling, or movement. The key isn’t what you choose—it’s that you choose something.

Find a way to connect with yourself. Not to escape, but to heal.

Through this process, my faith grew stronger. Abuse dims our light—it makes us question everything we thought was good. But I learned to trust again. Not in people, but in God, the universe, and myself. I took God’s hand and said, “Guide me, and I will follow.” And I never looked back.

To Those Still in the Darkness

If you’re reading this and still in an abusive situation—or even questioning whether it’s abuse—pause for a moment. Ask yourself: Am I truly happy? Do I feel safe and valued? Is this the life I want for myself?

Your feelings are valid. Your pain is real. And there is a way out.

If you’re feeling hopeless, please seek help. Reach out to professionals, friends, or anyone you trust. You don’t have to face this alone.

The Survivor’s Promise

Today, I stand not as a victim, but as a survivor. I reclaimed my voice, my power, and my life. Healing is possible. You are worthy. You are enough.

It won’t be easy, and it won’t happen overnight. But if you keep going—if you keep choosing yourself every day—you will heal.

Your story doesn’t end here. This is just the beginning.