from r.b. in weber county

Dear Utah,

I grew up in an environment where various forms of abuse were prevalent. Both of my parents struggled with substance abuse, leading to a childhood marked by instability, including frequent stays in shelters and halfway houses. This background significantly distorted my understanding of healthy relationships.

I married at a young age, believing I had found a partner who would help me create my ideal family. I envisioned a life filled with promise: a custom-built home featuring my dream kitchen, a fulfilling job, and what I believed to be a supportive spouse. However, behind closed doors, I found myself trapped in a cycle of trauma, having married someone with similar struggles as my parents.

My experiences included severe physical abuse, such as being strangled, pushed out of a moving truck, and tackled while pregnant. Yet, perhaps the most damaging aspect was the toll on my self-esteem, exacerbated by years of criticism, guilt, degradation, and emotional sabotage.

It took me eight years and upwards of ten separations to finally leave my abuser. Each time I thought I was free, he would pull me back in, weaving a web of guilt and confusion that made it nearly impossible to see the truth. When I finally found the strength to walk away for good, I thought I was reclaiming my life. But he had other plans. Almost immediately, he launched a smear campaign, reaching out to everyone I knew—my friends, family, coworkers—painting me as the villain in our story. He twisted the narrative, casting himself as the victim as if he hadn’t been the one to create a cycle of fear and control.

At first, I was stunned. I received calls and messages from people I loved, each one laced with doubt. As days turned into weeks, I felt the walls closing in. The isolation was suffocating. But in the midst of it all, I discovered my own strength, an unyielding resolve that had been buried under years of fear. I started to set boundaries with those who still wavered, refusing to allow his narrative to define me any longer. It was liberating. I lost touch with most of my friends who sided with him, their loyalty misplaced. Family members questioned my decisions, wondering if I had truly been the instigator all along, and for my own peace and separation, I had to cut ties with them as well.

Over time, I surrounded myself with people who uplifted me, who celebrated my journey and honored my truth. My now loving and supportive husband being the top of the list. I learned to trust again, to love myself fiercely, and to believe in my own narrative. I was no longer a victim; I was a survivor, a warrior reclaiming my life.