My Story Of Survival, Courage, And Finding My Voice After Domestic Abuse
The day I found myself was the day my husband threw me against the wall in front of my 13-year-old son. Little did I know that this was the beginning of the end for all of us. How might you ask? How would a moment of domestic violence become the beginning of who I am today?
My 13-year-old son jumped the dining room table to put himself between his father and me that day. It was the first time he had seen his father become physically abusive, but certainly not the first time it had happened. Normally, it was verbal or financial abuse, but who acknowledges that kind of abuse?
For 18 years, I endured what I was told “I deserved” and had come to believe. My own mother told me that I deserved it, so it must be true, right? The first time he abused me was when I was pregnant with my middle child, when I found out he was cheating on me.
I went to my mom hoping to find support. Instead, I found more pain and betrayal. She informed me that she understood why he cheated, she told me that I was nothing but a (explicit) “female dog”, and I married him – so deal with it.
That is what I did. For eighteen years, I endured. I hid myself from the world, sacrificed my voice, and lost who I was in the process. I didn’t live during those years—I survived them. Until my brave 13-year-old boy showed me how to stand on my own two feet.
My son did something that I didn’t have the courage to do: stand up to the 40-something-year-old retired military man standing before him. My son shielded me; I was the one who was supposed to be the shield.
That night, with the strength of my son, I told my husband to leave. I allowed him to gather some belongings for the night, and then he was to get out.
For the next several months, we endured heartache after heartache as he verbally assaulted me daily.
– He would text message and call daily, threatening to take the kids away from me.
– He threatened me and accused me of not being at work.
– He would drive by my work and say my car wasn’t there, so where was I?
– He would ping my phone so he could track my location, and sometimes those location trackers weren’t correct as he would accuse me of being at houses I didn’t know.
He continued to financially abuse us by wiping the bank account clean. He left pennies in the bank. His threats would be financial ruin. If he couldn’t live in his house, then I wouldn’t be living there either. He didn’t care if we would be living in my car with the kids.
Through this abuse, I found myself. I found that I was stronger than I ever thought I could be. I hit rock bottom. I drained the kids’ savings accounts, thinking the courts would make him repay my court fees. They didn’t. Our divorce was quick, but the child custody arrangements went on for several years due to delays.
He didn’t want the kids. He didn’t want to pay for child support. He skipped town and left an email saying to never contact him again. Even with that, he wasn’t forced to pay all my court costs, only the bare minimum.
My tiny family has been shattered and taped back together. Each of us is finding ourselves in our own ways. However, the one way that is consistent with all of us, we depend on each other. We are a wall, we shake in the wind, but we will support each other against anything that threatens to enter.
Action Step: Music, nature, and meditation have been my salvation. My bare feet planted in the grass growing in my backyard calm me when things get tough.
The hardest lesson for each of us is that we must practice changing our mindset every day. We are worthy of love. We are abundant, and all negativity will be returned to the sender. Retraining our brains has been the hardest, but we will break the cycle; it has ended with this wall.
I am no longer the scared child who sleeps with all the lights on, but the woman who will stand up for those without a voice. I am a survivor, and I will be a voice for those who need a voice. If I give up, he wins, and I refuse to let him win.
I refuse to let my abuser win and destroy my children’s lives more than he already has. I will prove to them that there are good people in the world. I may not be able to save the world, but I can save my small portion of it.
Name: Yvonne Hull
Professional Title: Teacher
Bio: Yvonne Hull is a single mother, domestic abuse survivor, teacher, and published author on Amazon. Her work reflects resilience, faith, and finding purpose after survival.
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