About Me

a victim and a survivor

I love to laugh. I love good friends – the really good ones that bring a smile to your face just thinking about them. Reading is my favorite past-time – especially classic British novels. I love going to the movies and getting completely lost in someone else’s world. I love nature – especially the ocean’s pounding waves. I get super cranky without exercise every day. I am learning to accept that I am a survivor of domestic abuse in marriage and childhood sexual abuse, only by first accepting that I was a victim. Survivor and victim. Those are incredibly hard words to swallow. Above all I love God – body, blood, soul and divinity.

childhood

Much of my childhood was beautiful, simple, wild, and adventurous. I grew up very poor, on a country farm. Although hard work on our family farm was a given, I was also a fun-loving wild tomboy child – climbing trees, getting dirty, getting hurt, exploring the woods and rivers. I have seven siblings and we are still close. My parents are generous, hard-working people and I have learned much from them.

My childhood was also marked by sexual abuse and neglect. Somehow I filtered that from my memory for decades.

an unplanned pregnancy

We were extremely different and our relationship had little hope from the beginning. He was Muslim, a foreigner from an Arabic country, still learning English and his focus was on money and success. I had none of his interests and was a strong Catholic girl with no real experience in the world. But it wasn’t only our differences. He was abusive from the start. I was naive, but also easily manipulated because of the unprocessed trauma in my childhood. I was incredibly ashamed of being single and pregnant and terrified of raising a child alone. And that began 10 years of abuse at the hands of my husband – verbal, mental, emotional, physical and sexual.

from the outside my life looked good

For most of my marriage I managed to stay in denial, remain as numb as possible, and somehow look like I was thriving and successful. I graduated college at the top of my class with honors. I landed an amazing corporate IT job and swiftly moved up the ranks in a Fortune 500 company while getting a Masters degree. I followed behind my husband in traveling the world, buying expensive cars and houses, and creating an image of a beautiful happy life while our child suffered in the turmoil. My only focus was to please my husband and his was to look good to everyone. Thus we lived in a world of lies.

but I was utterly broken inside

My husband ensured I was extremely isolated with no one to reach out to. He tracked my cell phone and my whereabouts at all times. He convinced me that everyone I cared about was against him and he needed my love and loyalty because nobody else understood him or us. I believed him and cut ties, although it broke my heart.

Over the years the abuse became more than I could handle. My career eventually fell apart. I was depressed and became suicidal. I was failing at motherhood. Becasue my husband would not allow me to have any friends or family connections, I was desperately alone. I was also brainwashed with his gaslighting and saw no way out of my misery.

therapy in secret

More and more, I feared I may kill myself, leaving my precious daughter to be alone with my husband. This fear pushed me to seek counseling in secret. He eventually found out and hurt me, threatening far worse if I ever tried it again. Yet a year later I found another therapist and continued in secret. Eventually I saw the abuse for what it was and gathered enough strength and courage to divorce him. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done.

moving on but numbing the pain

Unfortunately I did not continue therapy after my divorce. Rather, to ensure I would not feel the pain, I plunged myself into a masters degree program (on top of a 60 hour/week career that I was barely holding onto and single parenting). Despite a whole lot of partying, drinking and drugs, I finished my masters degree with a 4.0, found a new husband and quickly had more children.

It has been 13 years since the divorce and for all of that time I have found ways to block the memories of what I endured, never admitting I am a domestic abuse survivor. I could not bear to think about any of it. I deeply love my husband but any times he brings up my past I quickly shut him down. He too has learned to leave it all unspoken. We love each other deeply but our marriage has been difficult at times with my denial of the past and refusal to communicate.

autoimmune disorders

Last year I was diagnosed with two autoimmune disorders plus chronic fatigue, chronic pain and a multitude of other health issues that are still a mystery. I went from being very active to being in bed more days than out of bed. My doctor was wise enough to mention that autoimmune problems are often correlated with unresolved trauma. I denied this and insisted my life is amazing!

Just the thought of tackling my past took my breath away and made my entire body shake. Yet I have beautiful children and a loving husband and I wish to be here and be healthy for them.

finding support

It took me many weeks to gather courage to simply ask an aquaintance (who is a mental health therapist) if there could truly be a connection between health problems and a “stressful past”. That was as much as I could admit to, needing to know if my past was something I must revisit. We were not close friends and she knew very little about me, but she gave me an emphatic YES! She sent me links to the research showing the connection.

We met for coffee and she asked many painful questions. It was absolute torture for me to even make eye contact much less answer questions. Being vulnerable felt unbearable, as did remembering the details after that many years. She used words like “abuse” and “trauma” that triggered awful sensations in my body.

moving past “it wasn’t that bad”

I spent the next few weeks with her words attacking my brain, still denying my past had been that bad. But the floodgates had been opened and the physical responses in my body were frightening! My panic attacks became frequent, along with flashbacks, nightmares and anxiety. My past was suddenly the ONLY thing I could think about!

Over the next few months she became one of the most valued friends I could imagine. Although I never voiced it, I often found myself feeling angry towards her, simply for stating truths I felt I could not handle. Yet she gave me such support and encouragement until I was brave enough to begin working with a trauma therapist. “We all have shadows,” she told me. “Every one of us.” I cannot thank God enough for this friend. I know without her support I would not be getting through this journey.

this blog

My therapist said I’m empathic and this can pull me into hurtful relationships. It hurts deeply when I cannot take away someone’s pain. I am learning to be aware and protect myself.

Apparently taking on others’ pain is also a protective mechanism for me – I feel others emotions instead of processing my own. Regardless, I want this blog to support someone else’s healing journey. I may not be brave enough yet to tell my story verbally to others but I I will begin with writing….

We all have secrets. We all have shadows. My journey is to own mine and write the ending to my story. May you also write your beautiful ending!