I was once a woman.

A free woman.

A happy woman.

A live each day, love my life, embrace my future, woman.

 

I was once a Lover.

A hopeless lover.

A consumed lover.

A swept away with passion, can’t believe my good fortune, believing in magic, lover.

 

Then I became sorry.

Sorry I misspoke,

Sorry I misunderstood.

Sorry I couldn’t be quiet enough, smart enough, worthy enough.

 

I was once a Victim.

A tear stained, bruised and begging victim.

A lying, concealing, withdrawn victim.

A story weaving, excuse making, dreaming of change victim.

 

I was once a Victim.

A disillusioned, hoping for change victim.

A tremulous, wrong in my own skin victim.

Certain each time would be the last, but fearing it would really be the last of me.

 

I was once a Victim.

A weary and broken down victim.

A weak and hesitant victim.

A shell of my former self, a barren and desolate victim.

 

I became a Fighter.

A timid fighter.

A losing fighter.

A weak and failing fighter, no-one would bet on me, I’m not even betting on myself.

 

I became a Fighter.

A determined fighter.

A stronger fighter.

A backbone growing, never going back, you don’t control me, fighter.

 

I am now a Survivor.

A fledgling survivor.

A determined survivor.

A lead as many as I can, never give up never look back, you don’t define me, survivor.

 

For I was once a Woman.

A free woman.

A happy woman.

A live each day, love my life, embrace my future, woman.

I STILL AM.

 

Although this story is not truly my own, it is the story of so many women I love and have loved. You may not think this is your story either, but if there is even a seed of doubt that it may be…Get out. Get away. Get help. Make a change. You ARE strong enough and you deserve SO MUCH MORE.

 

In loving dedication of my beautiful grandmother Norma Momenee who existed her entire life at the hands of various abusers. In loving memory of Joy Carpenter whose beautiful legacy as a mother and woman is being spread among my community as we mourn her loss. In loving memory of all the other mothers, daughters, sisters, that have been lost at the hands of a loved one. And in regretful memory of those that will still be to come. Let’s bring about change.

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