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Hope

After surviving 43 years of abuse, I used to feel hopeless and alone. Nothing was being done about the abuse, no one saw it or if they did, they ignored it. There were signs, there always is. What gave me hope was being optimistic about my world in the best way I could, even where I wasn’t realistic at all. It helped me survive. I would say things to myself like “he’s got to die someday” and “you are strong enough to handle this”. The question is why did I feel that my life wasn’t worthy of living now? Why did I have to handle anything? I ask myself these questions today years after my escape. It’s funny how your mind works when it is in survival mode. Looking back, it really doesn’t make sense, but the one thing I realized was I had to have hope. A hope for a better tomorrow, a hope for a life of my own, a hope that someday someone would see what was happening. All of those hopes did come to pass. Now, my hope is that I can help others through their journey, give them hope and a breath for another day. A hope that I can show them how strong they are and that they do not have to wait to use their voice, to stand strong and regain their lives. Hope is huge and you must have it. Peace…