Awareness & Healing: A Mother’s Journey Back to Herself

 I’ve spent a long time trying to figure out how to talk about what I survived without turning it into a spectacle or giving anyone room to twist my words. What I can share — safely, truthfully — is my journey, the pieces of my life that shaped me into the mom I am today, and the strength I didn’t know I had until surviving became my only option.

Before I left my marriage, the relationship had already become deeply unsafe. There were patterns of fear, control, and harm that grew gradually, almost quietly, until one day they weren’t quiet anymore. I didn’t recognize the danger at first. Love can make you believe you owe someone patience, loyalty, or endurance even when you’re breaking.

For a period of time, we were homeless, living in a tent in the woods. Those nights were some of the hardest, yet strangely, some of the clearest. When things escalated and I was hurting — physically or emotionally — I would look up through the branches at the sky. Sometimes it was stars, sometimes clouds drifting across the moon. And in those moments, I’d think, “If this is the last thing I see… at least it’s beautiful.”

Not because I wanted anything to end — but because my mind was trying to create peace where there wasn’t any.

At one point, I posted a picture of the night sky on my public TikTok and captioned it with that exact thought. I wasn’t trying to send a message. I wasn’t crying out for help. But my biological mother was quietly following my posts, watching me closely because she was scared she might lose me. She read between the lines and realized how unsafe things had become without me ever having to say the words out loud.

Eventually, things escalated to the point where I had to leave. Leaving meant hospitals, forensic exams, and time in an inpatient facility before my family could bring me home. It was only after I reached safety that I learned I was pregnant. That baby — now seven months old — became my purpose, my anchor, and one of the biggest blessings of my life.

After I left, there were legal consequences for the other party involved, and since then they have not remained in one place long enough for basic procedures, like finalizing a divorce, to move forward. It has kept me in a strange limbo — free emotionally, physically, and mentally, but still waiting for the paperwork to catch up.

Sometimes people ask how I ended up with custody if I was supposedly “the problem.” And the simple truth is: life tends to reveal where the real stability is. I don’t need to explain or defend myself against stories told by people who were never there. My day-to-day life — raising my child, maintaining a home, staying safe — speaks louder than anything anyone else can say.

I survived something that could have ended me. And even now, even with distance and peace and safety, I still feel the lingering shadows of what I went through — especially knowing some of the final steps can’t be completed until the other person stops disappearing.

But I’m here. I’m healing. I’m a mom who tries every day to be strong, even when the past tries to pull me back. And I hope sharing this helps someone else feel seen or gives another survivor a little bit of courage to take their next step.

Because no matter what was done to me, I’m still standing. I’m still loving. I’m still choosing peace for my child and myself.

And that, more than anything, is my victory