It’s October. Domestic Violence Awareness Month.

It feels like more and more, we hear about women who are murdered by their abusive partners.

There was a time in my life when I wasn’t sure I’d be here.

Let me take you back…

It was March 2020, right around the time everything was shutting down because of the pandemic.

I was driving home from work. My youngest was in the back seat.

I was thinking about how far he had come in the past year. I thought about how much he had grown and what he would be like as he got older.

Then this went through my mind:

“What makes you think you’ll be around to see him grow up?”

That hit me hard.

I knew I had to get out.

But knowing I needed to get out and actually believing I could were two very different things.

I questioned everything.

I prayed every day on my way home from work for protection and peace.

I questioned my memories.

I questioned my feelings.

I questioned whether maybe I was the problem.

More than anything, I just wanted to feel sane.

I didn’t have some huge vision for my future.

I wasn’t dreaming about big, elaborate plans for me and the kids.

I just wanted peace.

I wanted to feel loved and cared for.

I wanted to trust myself again.

It’s been six years since that drive home.

And sometimes I look around at my life now and think about how little that version of me could see.

Here we are in 2026.

My kids are six years older.

I finished my degree and started my master’s degree.

I changed careers.

I started writing this blog, hoping to help other women heal.

I’ve grown spiritually.

I’ve learned how to be me again.

I have hopes and dreams again.

Do I still question myself?

Absolutely.

There are still times I wonder if I’m overreacting. Times I overanalyze something someone said. Times I need reassurance that what I’m feeling is reasonable.

Some of those old survival habits are stubborn.

And while I’m here six years later, it is not lost on me how blessed I am to have gotten six more years.

Lately, it feels like there is always another news article about a woman who never got the chance to leave.

That hits differently now.

I’ve gotten six more years of watching my kids grow.

Six more years of healing.

Six more years of learning, dreaming, laughing, crying, growing, and becoming.

Six more years of living a life I could not see from where I was standing in 2020.

And I don’t take that lightly.

In 2020, I was trying to survive my life.

Today, I get to live it.

If you’re reading this and questioning everything, I remember what that feels like.

I remember wanting peace more than anything.

I can’t promise you what your next six years will look like.

But I can tell you this:

Life can exist beyond survival.