Written through tears. . .

Breath shuddering and fingers shaking with every keystroke. . .

The words are not enough. . .

The story is not enough. . .

No promises or life changes or time can ever erase the scars of something that destroys so much of you. . . things that you can never get back. . . and somehow, no matter what you say, no matter what you do, no matter how long it’s been, you will never be the same person again.

And, NO ONE who hasn’t actually been through it themselves can ever, will ever, truly understand that mile in your shoes.

How could they?




It’s a start.


Sometime last year I saw this hashtag for the first time. It was a movement on social media, a way for women to reach out to each other, to say with as few words as possible that they understood what someone was going through, that they were there to support each other. It’s possibly one of the most important messages that social media has ever carried.

It’s a rally cry, a stand that only some of us can take, a way of telling the faceless. . . nameless. . . women and children and even men that they are not alone, that someone else has been through the same hell they have.




People ask me how I can have faith, knowing that God allowed me to be in that situation, lose that much of myself, experience that horror. . .

It hasn’t always been easy. I would be lying if I said otherwise, but God is and was just as horrified at what happened to me as I was. . . am. . . GOD is the only one who knows just how it feels. . . just how it felt. . . just how it still feels when I remember or when the nightmares come. HE knows because HE was there with me, beside me, behind me, in front of me, helping to protect me as much as HE could without taking away my free will. . . my free will that means I made a choice that caused me to be in that situation.

I made the decision to be in the relationship. I stayed in the relationship until I had no other choice. I even fell for the lies and the empty promises again years later.

But I also made the decision to leave when it happened again.


The devil is a cunning liar. He may not know everything, but he is a study of human nature and with thousands of years of experience, he knows how to read people. He knows what to whisper to the instrument of his abuse, what the victim needs to hear; to stay, to feel trapped, to feel lost, to feel that there is no other option for them.


We still make the choice, but I do not believe it is as cut and dried as most people believe.


I am here, standing with each and every one of you, the ones who can say “me too” and the ones who can’t. . .


©Naomi Claire 2018

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