Life goes by

  Ever since my ex was shipped off to rehab in June, I’ve finally been able to save money—money I never could before. He was a constant black hole of needing cash for this, needing cash for that. But that’s not even the point of this post. The point is: I’m proud of myself. In the first couple of months after everything changed, I got a new job. I quickly realized it paid better than my previous one and, just as importantly, gave me consistent hours and consistent days. I started tracking everything and noticed I was averaging about 22 hours a week—just under 50 hours per paycheck. With my hourly rate, even after child support deductions, I was bringing in solid income. But I still struggled to save. Not because I didn’t make enough—but because I had never really had money of my own before. That led to impulse spending, and no matter how hard I tried, my savings never grew. So I made a change. Since I already had a Chime account, I started splitting 25% of every paychec...

                                      Content Warning This post discusses emotional abuse, coercive control, manipulation, and cult-like dynamics within Intimate relationships. It includes references to surveillance, loss of autonomy, and psychological harm. Readers discretion is advised, especially for survivors of domestic violence, religious abuse, or high-control relationships.  ——————————————————————— The more distance I get, the clearer it becomes: this isn’t leadership, and it sure as hell isn’t polyamory. Its control dressed up as spirituality and mystery. He calls himself poly, yet every woman around him is forbidden from dating anyone but him. He demands access to their phones, their social media, their private conversations. No privacy. No autonomy. Obedience disguised as “loyalty.” And then there’s the pattern—every girlfriend looks the same. Same hair. Same build. ...

  In the whirlwind of everything I’ve been through with my husband, I’ve had to face a lot of unexpected twists. But one of the strangest has been watching someone who once stood by my side—someone who witnessed what I survived—suddenly turn around and rewrite the story. So here’s the truth, laid out for anyone who needs to hear it: sometimes the people who once held your hand can become the people who twist the knife. Chrissy was there when I left. She helped me reach out to the hotline, offered support, and promised to keep in touch. But now she’s dating the very man who hurt me, and she’s calling me disloyal for speaking the truth. It’s a strange, painful kind of betrayal when someone flips like that. But I’m not writing this for sympathy—I’m writing it to make it clear that no matter how someone else tries to rewrite your story, your truth still stands. So here it is: I’m not going to be silenced, and I’m not going to be shamed for speaking up. Loyalty isn’t about staying q...

  For a long time, my life revolved around defending myself. Defending my choices. Defending my past. Defending my safety. Defending the truth of what I lived through. Survival sometimes feels like one long explanation — constantly proving what happened, constantly correcting the lies, constantly trying to stay ahead of someone else’s narrative. When you’ve been hurt by someone who twists the truth, your instinct becomes survival through clarity. You hold every receipt, screenshot, memory, and moment of fear like armor. But lately… something in me has shifted. I don’t want my whole identity to be “a survivor who’s always justifying her story.” I want to become the woman who owns her story and then uses it to light the path for others. Not because I owe it to anyone. But because I made it out — and that means something. I’m Ready to Be More Than What Hurt Me I’ve survived many things in my life, but there is no denying that my husband was the worst thing I eve...