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I Fought, and I Won
Many of you already know my story, that I’m a survivor of family violence. But what I haven’t shared until now is just how close I came to losing everything.
Trauma doesn’t just live in the past. It lingers. It echoes. It waits for moments to resurface, in letters you don’t want to open, legal threats that knock the breath out of you, and the deep, bone-tired fear that I might lose everything.
I had to fight for my home. Not just metaphorically, but literally. The place I’ve poured myself into. The walls that have held my tears, my healing, and my quiet strength.
It was almost taken from me.
And let me tell you: the fear of losing your sanctuary after everything you’ve already survived? It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff, dizzy, furious, terrified, but too stubborn to let go.
So, I fought.
Not just for bricks and roof beams.
But for my right to exist peacefully.
For my right to feel safe.
For my right to live a life that isn’t constantly in defense mode.
And I won.
Legally, spiritually, emotionally, I won.
I kept my home.
I protected my dignity.
And in the process, I took back parts of myself that trauma had stolen without asking.
It wasn’t glamorous. There were no balloons or victory laps. There were courtrooms and paperwork and long, lonely nights. But this win is mine, bruised, hard-earned, and deeply sacred.
Healing, as I keep learning, isn’t just about inner peace. Sometimes it’s about standing up, exhausted but unwavering, and saying: “No more!”
To anyone out there still in the thick of it, still battling, still scraping together pieces of themselves, please know this:
You are not behind.
You are not weak.
You are not broken.
You are becoming!
This space, this blog, this creative work, it continues to be part of my healing. Thank you for walking alongside me. For reading. For caring. For being part of a quiet revolution of hope and truth.
We don’t just survive.
We rise.
With all my heart,
Chris ♥
