October: Breaking the Silence and Rising Together

October marks the beginning of National Domestic Violence Awareness Month. It's an awareness month that makes me pause with a mix of emotions—sadness for the countless women (and men) still trapped in silence, gratitude for the fact that I found my way out, and determination to keep using my voice to make sure others know they are not alone.

Domestic violence has many faces. For me, it wasn’t black eyes or broken bones. In fact, much of my abuse couldn’t be seen at all but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. It was the cutting words, the "looks," the silent treatment that lasted for days, the constant gaslighting that made me question my own reality, and the subtle but relentless erosion of my self-worth. Those invisible bruises ran deep, and for years I believed the lie that if others couldn’t see them, maybe they weren’t real, but they were and they left scars lasting longer than any physical wound.

Abuse Behind Closed Doors

One of the hardest parts of abuse is how invisible it can look to the outside world. From the outside, my life looked great—smiling photos at events, holidays with carefully chosen outfits, social media posts that showed what looked like a “happy family and/blended family.” Behind closed doors, though, I was constantly walking on eggshells, trying to anticipate his moods, protecting my children from the tension, and manage my own unraveling sense of self.

That’s the cruel truth about abuse—it convinces you to keep the secret. It makes you doubt your instincts. It whispers that no one will believe you, especially when he tells you he should have listened to everyone when they warned him to "run" when we met. It tells you that speaking up will only make things worse and for a long time, I believed those lies.

The Breaking Point

There wasn’t just one moment when I decided I had to leave because it's a cycle. It's never all bad times and that's what makes it so confusing. It was more like a thousand little moments strung together: the nights I cried myself to sleep after being told I wasn’t enough, the mornings I had to plaster on a smile for my kids or pray they wouldn't see that I had been crying. The silent prayers I whispered in the shower so no one could hear me. Eventually, the weight became too much, and I knew that staying was costing me more than leaving ever could.

It wasn’t an easy choice. In fact, it was the scariest one I’ve ever made. Leaving meant facing the unknown, rebuilding from scratch, (for the umpteenth time) and hearing the voices in my head saying, "now what are people going to think?" I also knew this: staying meant losing myself completely or let's face it-even worse. I always promised my children I would give them a life rooted in love, not fear and that promise became my anchor. They will never fully understand how much they truly are my "why" I am here today.

Why Awareness Matters

So why am I sharing this? October is about more than a purple ribbon or a statistic—it’s about stories. Real and raw stories. The hard truths and reality of what domestic violence can do to someone. It’s in sharing stories that we remind others they aren’t isolated, they aren’t imagining it, and they aren’t unworthy of something better. Awareness matters because abuse thrives in silence. The more we speak, the more we chip away at the stigma that keeps survivors trapped. When we name the red flags—control disguised as “protection,” jealousy dressed up as “love,” manipulation that makes you feel "crazy"—we help others see what they may not have language for yet.

It’s also about community. Abuse is not just a private issue—it ripples into families, workplaces, schools, and entire communities. By raising awareness, we become part of the safety net that helps catch survivors when they finally decide they’re ready to step away.

To the Woman Still in Silence

If you’re reading this and you’re still in the thick of it—maybe you’re hiding your tears at work, maybe you’re making excuses for the bruises, maybe you’re convincing yourself it’s “not that bad”—please hear me: you are not alone. I see you. I was you.

I know how terrifying it is to imagine life beyond the person who’s been both your comfort and your torment. I know the fear of being judged, the exhaustion of pretending, the guilt of thinking you might be breaking up your family. I know the desperate calculations—“If I just do better, maybe he’ll calm down.” Love should never require you to shrink, silence yourself, or live in fear.

Leaving isn’t simple. Sometimes it’s not even safe to leave right away but beginning to believe you don't deserve to be treated the way he is—that’s where healing starts.

What You Can Do This Month

October is a time to recommit ourselves as a community to standing with survivors. Here are a few ways to do that:

• Learn the signs. Abuse isn’t just bruises. It’s isolation, financial control, constant criticism, intimidation, or the feeling that you’re always “walking on eggshells.”

• Have conversations. Talk to your friends, your kids, your coworkers. Normalize discussing healthy versus unhealthy relationships.

• Believe survivors. When someone opens up, your first words matter. Believe them. Support them. Don’t minimize or question.

• Share resources. Keep hotline numbers, shelter contacts, and support groups handy. You never know when someone in your circle may need them.

• Stand visible. Wear purple. Post about awareness. Attend community events. Your visibility tells survivors they have allies.

Rising Up and Flying Forward

When I look back now, I don’t just see the heartache and pain—I see the woman I became because of it. I see the resilience I didn’t know I had. I see the way my children and I built a life rooted in love, honesty, and healing. I see how my story, though painful, has given me wings and a new perspective on life.

That’s what Rise Up and Fly is all about—transforming brokenness into beauty, taking what was meant to destroy you and letting it fuel your strength instead. This month, as we honor Domestic Violence Awareness, my hope is that you feel both seen and inspired. Whether you’re still in the storm, walking out of the wreckage, or rebuilding your life piece by piece, know this: you are worthy, you are strong, and you are not alone.

xoxo,

💜 If you or someone you know is experiencing abuse, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). Help is available 24/7.