After ten years of living through various safety plans, I was left with no other choice but to leave my home. Instead of instituting safeguards available under the law, the involvement of the family court system, child protection services, and law enforcement only worked to increase the danger my children and I faced. In many ways, these systems persecuted and ridiculed me for even trying to get help. I was not believed. My children were not believed. Even in the face of irrefutable evidence, we were not protected. There were moments of despair when I questioned my own sanity, because surely these things could not really be happening to us. We did not matter.
Nothing prepares you for the moment in life when you are left with two very clear choices: stay and die or leave and live. My
threshold moment came when I saw my ex-husband on my home security camera with a gun. After all the years of telling me the various ways he thought about killing me, I knew those thoughts were going to become actions. After all the years of threatening my children with killing me, I knew he was going to do it. I was going to become another story on the news report, another statistic of intimate partner homicide. I knew if I stayed in my home, I would die. My only hope was to leave.
The day I drove away changed the course of my life forever. I loaded up my kids and their pets, put my car in drive, and pressed the gas pedal. I remember thinking to myself, “Is this what it’s like to never go home again? Am I
really never going home again?” Every mile I continued to drive, those thoughts played on a loop in my head. I remember feeling so incredibly overwhelmed and scared.
When I left, I drove away from:
- My home
- My family and friends
- My career
- My graduate school work
- All of my worldly possessions
I left my home with only what could fit in my car. One could say that my children and I lost “everything” the day we left our home, but that would not be true. We left behind our material possessions, but we kept our lives. We kept our hope of having a real life, one that was not defined by constant threat.
At 41 years old with two kids in tow, the instant I put the car in drive started a new life of hope, but in the face of incredible fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of continuing to not be believed. Fear of no one helping. Fear of no one making him stop. Fear of eventual permanent separation from my children, just like I had been threatened with for years.
Leaving was hard and incredibly terrifying, but staying was not an option. Now that we are more than one year in our new home, our new life, I know beyond a reasonable doubt that leaving was not only the right choice, but it was truly our only choice. Thankfully, we found people and systems in our new home that have given us protection. I am happy to say that we have found a life of freedom, safety, and stability. My children are thriving and healing, and I am slowly but surely building a new life.
I am blessed to now live in a place with the opportunity to use my voice in the pursuit of freedom and safety for others. I am free to tell my story and use my experiences to encourage others. I refuse to let the sadness and trauma of the past consume me today. Looking forward to the future, I am planning to devote my life to securing freedom, safety, and stability for other mothers and children with similar experiences – everyone has the right to these basic elements of life. My goal is to help every mother know that
there is always hope on the other side of the threshold.
