Trigger Warning: This story includes domestic violence and may be upsetting.
“I never thought I would have the courage to tell my story, let alone write it for the world to read. Who am I kidding? I never imagined that my life could become a story worth sharing. But looking back now, I realize everything I endured led me to this very moment.
My story is not something that can be captured in a few pages. Words alone cannot fully convey the agony I lived through during the longest five years of my life—married to an abusive man. I was, by every measure, a ‘HOT MESS.’ Stripped of dignity, stripped of self-worth, I existed as nothing more than a functioning shadow of myself.
It all began on my wedding day. He developed cold feet, and the only way he knew how to handle his stress was to lash out—and blame me. He blamed me for being pregnant, for making him go through with the wedding, for my family’s financial situation. ‘You are not worthy of me because I am a medical doctor,’ he would say, alongside a barrage of words like dumb, stupid, and low-life. My heart knew it was wrong, but my head made excuses. If only our minds wouldn’t betray us in moments like these!
The second time he struck me was en route to our honeymoon—yes, ironic, isn’t it? This was the first of many public beatings I would endure. Six months pregnant with our first daughter, I was slapped at the airport because he got his ego hurt by a ticketing lady. People rushed to help, but the humiliation and fear stayed with me.
I once heard a quote on The Handmaid’s Tale: ‘A man who hits a woman will hit a child.’ Tragically, this became true for me sooner than I could imagine.
Just over a month after our first daughter was born, my father passed away from a stroke. He didn’t get to meet his granddaughter. Around the same time, my husband and I got into an argument—I don’t even recall what about. But the yelling escalated, and he hit my one-month-old daughter across the cheek so hard she had a bloodshot eye for months. Abuse doesn’t just wound your body; it twists your mind. You fight back, you stay silent, and both choices seem to ignite further anger.
Yet, we survived. I survived, and my daughters survived. So I stayed. Fear of the unknown, societal pressure about divorce, and worry over what the church would think kept me trapped. I convinced myself, ‘Any man is better than being alone.’ So, I stayed and even brought another child into this hellish dynamic. My second daughter was born into a household full of tension, irrational rage, and alcohol-fueled violence.
Two weeks after her birth, after a near-fatal delivery, he attacked me in front of my visiting mother. He spat on my face, beat me, and left me in critical condition. My mother and neighbors rushed me to the ER, my newborn daughter in tow, waiting in the cold as I fought to regain consciousness. Despite this, I returned home, and the beatings continued for another two years.
Eventually, the truth became undeniable. I saw the reality for what it was: my daughters and I deserved better. No one was coming to save us. If there was hope for our future, I had to act. I had to JUMP. No culture, no religion, no one would rescue us—just me.
Leaving was terrifying. I had no support, little guidance, and was in a country with limited resources for domestic abuse survivors. After I left, the harassment continued—stalking, phone calls, emails. Friends distanced themselves out of fear. I was lonely, traumatized, and relied on Advil PM to sleep. But God, in His timing, reconnected me with an old friend, which became my lifeline.
Recovery wasn’t instant. I dedicated myself to healing, carefully navigating the dating world to ensure I never risked choosing another abusive partner. I waited until I was ready—ready not just for love, but for a man who would also be a good father to my children. I refused to settle for anything less.
Five years later, thousands of miles from my hometown, I am at peace. I am remarried to an amazing man who adores me and my daughters. My sense of self, purpose, and joy has returned. I am a better wife, mother, Christian, and human being because I chose to JUMP.
Now, I give back. Through my YouTube talk show, Transform After Abuse, I help women like me find hope, healing, and rebuild their lives after trauma. The very experiences that brought me pain have become the doorway to light—for me and for others.
Escaping abuse is never easy. Your head will fight you every step of the way. But if you ask yourself: Am I happy? Are my children safe? Will this situation create a good future for them?—and the answer is no—then it’s time to JUMP. Plan carefully, protect yourself and your children, and take the leap. Your life and their lives depend on it.”
