My story…My trauma does not define me anymore. | by Mypersonalstory | Sep, 2025

This is my personal story which contains references to sexual abuse and suicide, which some readers may find distressing.

What can or should I say? Honestly, I have no idea, but here is my story.

I cannot honestly tell you when it all started, though maybe I do know, buried deep in some hidden childhood memory. It is all I have ever known, and in some respects it became normal, because I was so young and didn’t understand what it all meant. I was conditioned to believe that I needed this, that this was what it meant to be loved and wanted. I didn’t say no, nor did I fight back, because it felt good to be needed. What I didn’t realise is that this was not love. This was not right.

It carried on for years, too many to count, and as the years went by, I still could not distinguish right from wrong. I became so numb that I felt I had to give myself just to feel that sense of being wanted, of being loved.

As I got older, I began to understand that this was wrong. But I couldn’t stop, because this was all I had ever known. This was how I thought love was supposed to feel. That belief followed me into adulthood, where I sought it out again and again with men.

Not because I desired men. Not because I was searching for love. But because somewhere inside, I believed this was all I was worth. That my value came only from giving myself away. That I was nothing unless I was available for someone else’s needs.

Each encounter was empty, meaningless, but I kept going back. Because the emptiness inside me screamed louder than anything else. I wasn’t chasing pleasure. I wasn’t chasing connection. I was chasing the only thing I had ever been conditioned to understand, that to be wanted, I had to give myself away.

Every time I left one of those encounters, I didn’t feel satisfied. I didn’t feel loved. I felt even more hollow. I walked away smaller, more numb, more broken than before. Each time, the void inside me grew deeper. Each time, I confirmed the lie I had been taught as a child, that I was nothing on my own, that my worth only existed when I surrendered myself.

I know it may be hard to believe, but I never craved those encounters. I was not looking for love or intimacy. I was simply trying to fill an endless void. That childhood conditioning, the need to always be available, ready, regardless of what I wanted or needed, never left me. It made me switch off from reality, from the people and things right in front of me, just so I could feed the emptiness and keep hold of the only feeling I thought I knew. It wasn’t desire. It wasn’t love. It was proof of the lie I carried, that I was nothing unless I gave myself away.

You might say I should have spoken out, told someone. But it was never easy. Since childhood, my parents taught me that, as the youngest, I should stay quiet, listen to my elders, and never speak back. That became the norm. I kept my feelings to myself, locking myself away both physically and mentally. It was the only way I knew to handle my emotions.

As for love, I thought I knew what it felt like. But now I see that I was being manipulated into becoming a quiet little boy who did whatever was expected of him, never what made him happy. I lost myself. I forgot what I liked, what brought me joy, maybe one day I’ll rediscover it. Growing up, I never understood what true love felt like, because for me it had always been about control and manipulation.

Yes, I married and had children. But even then, I hid this dark side of myself, believing I always had to be “available,” as if that was the way to fill the emptiness. I was so blind, so stupid, because the greatest love I could have asked for was right there in front of me. And I didn’t see it.

For years, my wife put up with me. I put her through so much pain, while I stayed self-absorbed in my own wounds, blind to hers. I cannot even imagine how much strength it took for her to endure me for so long. Only now do I realise how bad I truly was. I should have been the one she could turn to. I should have cared for her, shown her unconditional love. But I was too consumed by my own pain, too trapped in my trauma, to see the damage I was causing.

Years went on until we reached a breaking point. She had enough. The love she once had for me was gone. I had not been there for her for years, and I don’t blame her for seeking connection elsewhere. I had broken her trust many times, but it only took one betrayal from her to make me see how blind I had been to the love that was always right in front of me.

I thought it was over. She had disconnected from me completely, and I couldn’t blame her for wanting to leave. I was broken. Devastated. For the first time, I truly realised what I was losing, the one person who cared for me, who wanted nothing but my happiness. That pain became my awakening. My eyes finally opened to the harm I had caused, the love I had destroyed. I had only myself to blame.

Through all of this, I knew I owed her the truth. I wanted to share my trauma, not as an excuse, not to justify my actions, but to help her understand why I had been so blind to her love, why I had caused her such hurt. I cannot excuse what I did, nor do I ask for forgiveness, because I should have confronted my trauma years ago instead of letting it consume me.

It was not easy to tell her. I didn’t know where to begin, or how to open up, because I had never felt heard before. But the fear of losing the only person who truly loved me, who gave me happiness and a reason to wake up, pushed me to speak. That fear woke me up. It pushed me to take control, to reclaim the life that was taken from me so many years ago. It was time to stop letting the chains of my past control me.

By some miracle, my wife gave us another chance. I still don’t know why or how. But I do know this, I will never hurt her again. I will protect her always and forever. I will give her the care she deserved from the very beginning. I may never be able to give her everything she deserves, but I hope my love will be strong enough. My heart belongs to her, now and always. I can only hope she will see past my flaws and love me for the man I am today, not the boy who was too afraid.

I know there is still much work to do between us. I don’t want to rebuild what we had, because what we had was flawed and broken. I want to build something new. A new future. A new us. A love not based on lies and secrets, but on honesty and truth.

It will take time, and we will need to learn to love ourselves and each other again from the start. I am confident that this time, we will be stronger. I know it won’t be easy, especially for her, after all the pain I caused. I am prepared for the challenges ahead. I know her emotions will be conflicted, her fear always close to the surface, ready to return if I slip even once. I know it will take time to regain her trust. But I am committed. I will not go down that dark path again. I know how close I came to losing everything, and I will not let it happen.

I am working every day to build a better me, not just for myself, but for us. To prove my commitment. To show her that she has truly saved me. It will take time, but I am ready to give it. I believe that by finding myself again, we can also find a stronger, better version of us.

I am scared, though. Scared that one day she will realise I am not good enough for her. Scared she will see that she can do better, that she deserves better. If that day comes, I will not stop her. I will let her go, no matter how much it hurts, because I want only the best for her. She is, and always will be, the one. I will never forget her, never replace her. I pray that day never comes. I pray we continue to fight for this new us, that we never give up.

Do not mistake me, there have been dark moments. Many times, over the years, I wanted to end it. Even tried, both when I was younger, and even recently. In those moments, I believed death was the only escape, from my pain, from the pain I was causing others. I was in such a dark place, and I don’t know why or how I survived. But I see now that death was never the answer.

Back then, I couldn’t see past my own grief. I couldn’t understand the devastation I would have left behind. But now I know suicide is never the way out. No matter how bad things get, you need to stop and seek help. There is always someone to listen. There is always another path. I was lucky that my attempts failed. It took me years to come to this point, but I can finally say, don’t do it. Please don’t. There is always help. Speak up. Reach out.

If there is anything I have learned, it is this, it is never too late. Never too late to confront your trauma. Never too late to reclaim your happiness.

For me, I have broken the cycle of trauma. I have found my happiness, within myself and I am working on it with my wife. I am not seeking justice for what happened to me, though I cannot say why. For me, my justice is freedom. My justice is peace. My justice is happiness.

I have the best wife, the most amazing children. I am here today only because of them, because of her. She is the one who saved me, in more ways than I can ever say. I cannot express how much she means to me. All I can do is spend the rest of my life showing her, thanking her for being my one and only. I love you, my FFBB, you know what that means.

I will finish with this, always fight for your happiness. Never give up. Be strong. You’ve got this.

From someone who has overcome his trauma, and will never let it, or anything, define him again.