In the past year I have tested my will more than I ever thought I would. I have pushed the boundaries I had so long ago established. And for the first time since I left that horrific, nearly catastrophic nightmare of a relationship I called love, I have lived. The man who controlled every aspect of life and consumed my every thought, has dissipated into a dark blip in a small chapter of my life.
I have jumped from the tallest commercial bridge in North America, I have climbed a mountain that erupted just a few decades before, I have forgiven the unforgivable, I’ve traveled to paradise, and lived through Hell, and I have loved without fear since the day I came clean one year ago today. I have lived. There is hope in recovery.
I am not my abuser’s victim. I am not a rape victim. I am not a battered woman. I am not my PTSD. I am a solo traveler. I am a writer. I am brave. I am a fighter for the voiceless. I am a survivor.