I never thought I’d be here. A short piece of the truth that led me… | by Blondie | Healing, Stories & Design | Sep, 2025

I never thought I’d be here

Raising three kids alone. Stitching myself back together. Building two businesses from scratch. Clawing my way out of a hole I never asked to fall into.

But here I am.

Rewind a couple of years. The signs were already there, even before my marriage started falling apart. But I stayed. Because my mind was so desperate for love that I believed it when it came wrapped in a pretty bow. And I fell for it.

But my soul was screaming — because we had lived here before. The very place we tried to escape had pulled us back in. Familiar. Like an old friend you wish you’d never opened the door to.

That was the moment I should have known this relationship could never withstand anything. The foundation was ruined from the start.

Not because I didn’t want it to work — I desperately wanted it to. But because the person I thought loved me betrayed me at every turn. To belittle me. To make me feel small. To remind me of my failures and shortcomings.

And then came the night I finally understood this wasn’t love. It was midnight, and our three-year-old had woken up from a nightmare — scared, trembling, just wanting comfort. Instead of holding her, he put her in timeout. At midnight.

I started to move, to go to her, but he stopped me. “Don’t get up. Don’t go and check on her,” he said.

And something inside me snapped. I looked back at him and said, “Fuck you.” Then I got up and checked on her anyway. Because that’s what love does — it answers when innocence cries out in the dark.

But it didn’t stop there. It was the way he belittled my oldest daughter as she shook and trembled because she got a math problem wrong. It was the night I had a mental breakdown, when I needed someone to hold me together, and instead of comforting me, he walked out the door.

Every moment chipped away at the illusion until there was nothing left to hide behind. This wasn’t love. It was destruction.

But here I am.

Not whole yet, but no longer broken in silence. Raising three kids on my own. Building two businesses from the ground up. Stitching myself back together piece by piece. Choosing love every single day — not the kind wrapped in a pretty bow, but the kind that shows up, protects, and rebuilds.

Healing loudly. Unashamed. Rising intentionally.

If you’re clawing your way out of your own darkness, know this — you’re not alone. We rise louder, stronger, freer when we rise together.