That is me in the picture. It looks beautiful, but behind it is a painful story.
It was taken in January 2013. Just a few weeks before, in December 2012, my ex-husband beat me badly. I had just had surgery on my stomach, and he aimed his punches right at it. Why? Because I didn’t give him money for rent, even though I had already paid before.
My kids were in the living room. They heard me screaming but couldn’t help because the bedroom door was locked. When I finally got to the door, I saw them standing there, crying. The look on their faces said it all—horrified. My face was bloody, my eye was swollen black. It was bad. And it wasn’t the first time he had hit me.
That same day, I lost my well-paying but stressful job. My employer held back my last paycheck and severance pay, so I had no money. My ex-husband refused to understand that I hadn’t been paid. I had three young kids, the youngest just 9 months old. No job. No money. But I knew one thing—I had to leave.
I had been going to therapy, getting ready for this moment.
That day, I made a choice: I was going to start living. I went to the salon, did my hair, and came home smiling. My kids saw me happy and took my pictures. That was the first time I had ever smiled in a photo.
And I have never looked back.
Now, I smile in most of my pictures. I am truly happy, and so are my kids. Things turned out better than I ever imagined. I am free, living my best life, and having a blast.