Earth Angels Survivor Stories
You are not alone. This is a space for anyone affected by Domestic Violence. It is a space for sharing, for healing, and for love.
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*If you are a victim in need of immediate assistance please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−7233.
Anonymous says...
“She’s insane for going back to him. What the hell is wrong with her?” “She’s clearly lying if she went back to him” “You’re absolutely pathetic” “It’s not rape if they’re in a relationship” “You didn’t grow up seeing abuse – why did you end up in this situation?” “What were you wearing?” “How drunk were you?” “It’s pathetic that she keeps going back.” “I would never call you a dog because that would be a compliment – dogs listen to their owners” “I will kill myself without you – you can’t do this to me, I won’t let you and you don’t have a choice” “I love you”
No one teaches you what to look for. No one teaches you what it looks like – abuse. Jealousy at first, seems sort of…nice. Like he cares about you. Like he wants to protect you by not wanting you to go out in certain outfits. You overlook the signs, or maybe you don’t overlook anything and you’re just young, in love, completely unaware.
A lot of people are shocked when they hear me talk about how I’ve been in an abusive relationship that almost ended me, in so many ways. This confuses me – what am I supposed to look like? Is there a stereotypical face for domestic abuse? The answer is no.
It started like a fairytale. I was in college after being at an all-girls high school and had never really had a boyfriend. And then there he was, the first guy I met freshman year, and the one that would end up defining 4-5 years of my life thereafter. He had an on-and-off again relationship with someone at home when we met but he assured me it was “off” and so we dated. It’s hard to pinpoint when things took such a dark turn. But for awhile there, months maybe, we were together 100% and it was good. I chose to believe that he wasn’t going to be like his father but unfortunately, I was wrong.
Somewhere along the line, verbal, physical, emotional, sexual abuse occurred. I felt trapped in the relationship even when I was “out of it.” I felt like I literally couldn’t breathe. I loved him and hated him. I felt like I needed him like air. I thought I would die without him even though the relationship was destroying me and every relationship I had outside of him. I never told anyone how bad it got, and when I did, I regretted it. I went back to him even after telling my close circle how bad it was. The amount of shame and guilt I felt was absolutely debilitating. At that point, I didn’t care whether I lived or died. I wanted to be numb.
I talk openly about my eating disorder, but few know that this was a tiny byproduct of the relationship I was in. My eating disorder plays a small role in the trauma that I experienced. I turned to sex, drugs, starvation, alcohol, partying, traveling, adventures, new friends, new faces, adrenaline, caffeine, anything. I was running – no, sprinting from myself and in the process, I was withering away to nothing subsiding on Adderall, drugs, and 400 calories of food a day, while running 6+ miles.
There were so many blackouts that I lost count of the times I woke up and had absolutely no idea how I was still alive. There were a few times where I considered taking my own life while under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Other times, I woke up in hospitals because I had drank so much. I wasn’t actively trying to die, but I wasn’t actively trying to live either. I still had straight A’s and a social life.
Graduation saved me. Traveling saved me. My support system, my family, my friends, therapy, time, and God saved me. I have absolutely no idea how I survived this period of my life, but I am so damn grateful that I did. I am in awe that my body withstood so much and I will never take another day or another breath for granted because of it.
I used to think I somehow attracted this person, this relationship into my life, like I had willed it by having some kind of subconscious self-worth issues. That thought was detrimental to my health and recovery. If you are reading this and in an abusive relationship, please know that this is NOT your fault.
I have learned that you simply cannot run from your trauma. I only became truly free when I began to own this large piece of myself and my story. This does not define me but it certainly contributes to the person I am today. It has taken years but I can finally say that I truly love, forgive, and respect myself. This was not a fast or easy process.
For me, forgiveness has given me freedom. It’s alarming for my loved ones to hear, but I can now say that I completely forgive my abuser and do not have any type of resentment towards him. Love wins, always. I pray that he changes and never puts anyone else through what I went through and that what happened was not in vain. I am more than my trauma – I am more than what happened. I am worthy – period.
I used to believe everything happens for a reason, but I don’t really think that’s true. I think we can find meaning in all things. But at the end of the day, terrible things happen all the time. Who knows why. All I know is that I am grateful to have survived. I am grateful to be breathing despite the world today being on fire. As someone who never thought a brighter day would come, I am grateful that it has. Things always get better. That is my truth and what I will always hold on to.
You are not alone. I hope sharing my story can let just one person out there know that. Keep fighting. We are breathing for a reason – we’re not done yet.
On Aug 07, 2020
Sarah Ripoli (Founder) says...
Hi Earth Angels! I hope this space can be one of positivity, healing, and growth. Here is my story:
Every person is put on earth for a purpose, or at least that’s what I like to believe. I think that everyone is given different variations of the same obstacles to accomplish in completely unlike ways. I’m not sharing my story for sympathy, in fact I have been avoiding that for almost 20 years. I never wanted anyone to look at me differently after knowing what I had been through, because truthfully I always just wanted to be the same as everyone else. That’s the best way I can describe my fear of speaking my truth for all this time. Fear that I wouldn’t be accepted. Fear of making it known that I am different. That what had happened to me was different. I now know that even though I was/am/will always be different, I am not alone. No matter how small the percentage may be, this has happened to someone else. Another little girl, or boy has felt my pain and for that I felt it was finally time to explain how I persevered. If not a way to bring awareness to such a barely discussed topic, but to encourage others who are still suffering in pain that it can get better if YOU want it to.
The month before I turned 7 years old (April 1999 to make me feel super ancient) my whole entire world was turned upside-down forever in the blink of an eye. I say blink of an eye because that’s how quickly everything happened, but in hindsight we should have all seen the foreshadowing years in advance. Metaphorically speaking, I grew up in a very dark household filled with severe domestic violence, so much to the point that most of it is blacked out from my brain. Looking back, I guess I unknowingly did this as a coping mechanism to avoid the pain and sorrow from remembering it all. One thing I will never forget though and still don’t to this day is my mother’s love and internal light of good that forever shined through. On April 8, 1999 that light transferred to the other side when my father murdered my mother while I was downstairs. That sounds absolutely absurd to write and my heart is basically palpitating out of my chest as I type this, but that is what happened. As much as I tried to hide my story, that is my truth. Although I had absolutely nothing to do with this unimaginable life altering event, I couldn’t help but feel ashamed. Ashamed that I was now different than everyone else. Even to this day, while I have met others who have also lost a parent at a young age, I still have yet to cross paths with anyone that has in the same way I have.
Losing a parent to domestic violence is like losing two parents at once. In an instant they both become physically gone in different ways. It’s something that happens in such a little amount of time but comes with years of pain afterwards. Of course it obviously hurts when it first happens. What hurts more though is the time that follows. Years and years afterwards you still feel the pain and ripple effects from it, in fact sometimes it even feels worse. It never actually goes away, and you continue to live your life knowing that. BUT this is where you have two choices… to let the emotional distress and trauma own you, or for you to own it.
Aside from having this horribly unimaginable thing happen to me when I was younger, the rest of my life turned out pretty great. I like to think that my mom has been looking over me the whole time and making things go my way, but I know I owe a lot of the credit to myself. I persevered, I continue to persevere every single day of my life, and I know others can too. Everyone is in control of their own destiny and whatever has happened to you in life does NOT dictate your story. You can write your own. In fact, I truly believe that the universe responds better when you show it what you got! So, for anyone who has lost someone close to them I am your living proof that it CAN get better if YOU want it to.
On Jul 31, 2020