Because sometimes the hardest stories lead us to the biggest blessings. *trigger warning* *domestic abuse*

I don’t open this part of my life often—mostly because it was one of the darkest stretches of my journey. But as I’ve learned through parenting, teaching, and healing, there’s power in vulnerability. And sometimes, sharing the hard chapters gives someone else the courage to keep going through theirs.

A Rough Start

I had a medically challenging childhood (more on that another day), and my young adult years didn’t come with much relief. Just before I turned 16, my family moved from California to New Mexico. A few years later, I moved to Oklahoma to attend Oklahoma Christian University and enrolled in their early childhood education program.

During my sophomore year, I married someone I had known for years from New Mexico. We grew up in the same youth group and kept in touch when I went away to college. We got married when I was 20, and I truly believed I was stepping into a future built on shared faith and familiarity.

But six months into our marriage, everything changed.

What It Looked Like Behind Closed Doors

We were living in the marriage dorms at Oklahoma Christian. At first, things just felt tense. He became controlling, dismissive, and critical. But slowly, the emotional abuse escalated into physical violence. It always started small—followed by tears, apologies, and promises that it would never happen again. The cycle would reset… until it didn’t.

Things got worse. He’d disappear for hours, come home angry or aloof, and I never knew what mood I’d be facing. I had no family in Oklahoma and no real support system of my own. And like many abusers, he kept his cruelty hidden behind charm. He smiled in public, brought me flowers at work, and told lies behind my back to make himself look like the victim. I stayed silent. I was afraid no one would believe me—and honestly, I wasn’t sure how to even begin to ask for help.

I stayed married for almost three years. But in truth, I mentally checked out long before that.

The Day Everything Changed

In August of 2011, I stepped into my very first classroom as a new teacher—bright-eyed, hopeful, and completely overwhelmed. Like any first-year educator, I was juggling lesson plans, bulletin boards, behavior charts, and late-night grading sessions. But underneath the surface, I was carrying something much heavier.

I was living in survival mode.

Each day, I put on a brave face and showed up for my students, but behind the scenes, my world was unraveling. At home, I was stuck in an abusive marriage. And at school, he kept the mask on—dropping off flowers or bringing me lunch so that everyone thought he was the sweetest husband.

He knew exactly how to keep up appearances.

No one saw the broken pieces I was hiding. No one knew that the woman teaching ABCs and tying tiny shoelaces was barely holding herself together. Until one day… I just couldn’t anymore.

The night before had been awful, and that morning I walked into school barely able to function. I broke down and finally confided in another teacher. She didn’t hesitate; but said something to the effect of “I am not Jesus”y” enough but I know who is”. She took me straight to the PE teacher —someone I barely knew beyond quick hellos during kindergarten drop-off.

Her name was Dee.

My Safe Place to Land

Dee listened. No judgment, no questions that made me shrink—just quiet compassion and strength, and belief. And then she said the words that still make me tear up today:

“You can come stay with me.”

Her oldest son now lived in Texas, and she had an extra room. I told her I had no money and couldn’t pay rent, well honestly couldn’t pay for anything. She looked me in the eye and said, “I’m not asking for anything. I’m offering you safety.”

That same day, she called her younger son and members of her church youth group. While my husband was at work, we packed up everything that belonged to me and moved it out. Trucks, boxes, and grace. I left behind the life I thought I had to endure—and stepped into something new.

A Family I Never Expected

Dee didn’t just give me a place to sleep. She gave me an extra family.

Her whole household welcomed me in like I had always belonged. I became a daughter, a sister and later an aunt. And that’s who I’ve been ever since. It’s been 13 years now, and I still call and consider them my family—because they are.

No, I wouldn’t want to relive that chapter. But I also wouldn’t change where it led me.

If You’re in a Storm…

If you’re walking through your own storm—unsure how you’ll get through, too afraid to look for the light—please hear me: God is still writing your story. Even in the silence. Even in the heartbreak. He’s working behind the scenes in ways you can’t imagine yet. And there are safe places and people waiting to walk beside you.

If you ever need someone to simply listen, I’m here. No judgment. Just another woman who’s been there. Feel free to reach out—your story matters, and you don’t have to carry it alone.

Below are some resources that may help if you or someone you love is facing domestic abuse:

Local Women’s Shelters
You can search your city + “domestic violence shelter” or call the hotline for help finding safe places near you.

National Domestic Violence Hotline
📞 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
🌐 www.thehotline.org
Free. Confidential. 24/7. Available in more than 200 languages.

StrongHearts Native Helpline (for Native American and Alaska Native communities)
📞 1-844-7NATIVE (1-844-762-8483)
🌐 www.strongheartshelpline.org

You are worthy of safety. You are worthy of peace. And you are worthy of love that never makes you afraid.