I thought I was happily married until November 1983. We were at a wedding and my husband broke my jaw. Of course we split. July 18, 1993 ended almost 11 years of misery with another guy. I couldn't have friends. Couldn't look around going down Main Street, couldn't act like I was having a good time. It ended that July day. He raped me that day.  I went to the police station to report it the next day. In case it happened again, at least it was reported.

Good people do get hurt.  And the bad people keep hurting them.  That is how I put it: I just never really felt good inside.  My ex-boyfriend would tell me wicked bad things about myself so I would feel useless and have no confidence at all.  A friend would come see me at work and say, “want to go out tonight?” And I would say, “No [he] won't let me.” And she’d give me a look, but she didn’t know: when I did go out, and then got home, he would beat on me and rip my clothes off. So I decided I would just rather stay home instead of getting that. I stopped going out at all.

I started going to Caring Unlimited in 2009.  We had a great time being there in the support group.  Things happened; just life. After a while I stopped going.

Here I am again trying to find myself; the me that got lost because of the men I chose. I was the good one. I kept telling myself that but still not believing it.  And when I look in the mirror… my friends would tell me I am beautiful, but they’re my friends saying that. I want to see that beauty in myself again. I want to open my heart up again.

This story was submitted and is published anonymously as part of Caring Unlimited’s 8th Annual Survivor Stories Project; a program of Domestic Violence Awareness Month 2020.