Coming Back and Climbing Higher by Arianna Shanks-Hill

Domestic violence awareness month ended in October, but advocacy is a full time job that transcends a calendar. I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking about my experiences with domestic violence; how it’s shaped me, the person I could have been if I hadn't had those experiences, how to prevent it from happening to anyone else. Many of my advocacy efforts involve education and detailed warnings for what signs of intimate partner violence and domestic violence to look out for (for adults, teenagers, and parents on their children’s behalf). I’ve told my story in an effort to educate others on the severity of the situation, and in hopes that other survivors can find community and solace in a girl with a story to tell and a determination to change the world for everyone like her. For a very long time I thought that doing just that would be enough, and that I could make those changes by making people feel connected to me and passionate about helping others like me.

As it turns out though, it’s not enough to provide resources and escape plans and a support system for those affected, or to attempt to invoke empathy from those around you. As it turns out, there will never be tangible change or a future that looks different if there is no hope. The most powerful thing I can do is create hope: for survivors and their futures, and for the communities who want to make a difference. The truth of the matter is that my life after abuse is just as, if not more important, of a story to tell. It tells survivors who identify with me that their life is not over at the hands of someone else, and it tells bystanders that their participation in advocacy helps create certain, beautiful futures. It gives them a tangible effect to believe in. It tells them that their work means something, and that standing with survivors will always be worth it.

 
I tend to have bad days every once in a while, as we all do, and I have the very common experience of what I like to call a “survivor spiral”. In my experience, I start to think about how unfair it is that I have to live with the effects of someone else’s actions. I start to wonder who I would be, and how I would be different if I had never walked through that dark time in my life. It’s a slippery slope and once those moments begin, it's hard to stop them and I tend to find myself in the middle of a panic attack or breakdown. Today though, in the midst of the thoughts of how unfair abuse is, I also realized that there has not been a single moment in the past 2 years where I have not felt loved. And that is exactly what I want to tell you about. The truth of it all is that it IS unfair. It’s heartbreaking and anger-inducing and devastating. But how will we know how beautiful the constellations of stars are if we’ve never walked through the dark? How will we know exactly how to connect with survivors and enact change if we’ve never shared similar experiences? I cannot change the events of my past, but I can walk forward with my head held high, knowing that the person that I have become is cloaked in unimaginable strength and incomparable gentleness that separates me from my abuser with a gap he will never be able to close. When you are brave enough to walk away from what is familiar, and step into the unknown in hopes of a better life, you will find yourself rewarded with more beautiful things than you have ever thought possible. One of my very favorite quotes is this: 
“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”
Hope has not and will never be an easy thing. It is an action verb that takes the utmost determination and strength to carry out. Over the past few years, I’ve learned through experience that it will always be worth it to take that leap, even if you have to take it while uncertain and scared. Knowing this, and knowing that that is always easier said than done, I want to give you some tangible evidence of what a beautiful, worthy, abuse-free future looks like. 

This August, I moved into my very first apartment with two of my best friends in the entire world. My dad drove an hour and a half to move me in, and put together all of my furniture for me, and took me grocery shopping before he hugged me goodbye and told me how proud he was. I decorated my room exactly to my tastes. I bought a baby pink toaster, and set up my pink Keurig on my kitchen counter. I get to sit on my balcony in the mornings and watch the sun rise, or stand out there and listen to the rain hit the pavement. I created a space that is all my own, covered in dinosaur paraphernalia and girly pink decorations: all things I had previously been made fun of for, or made to feel bad about. I get to come home to a place that has never been marked by violence, or by fighting, or my fear-filled tears praying for something more than the position I was in. 
I met the girls I now live with when I was a freshman in college, still unsure of who I was or how I deserved to be treated. I somehow stumbled into this friendship unsuspecting, and we quickly became an inseparable trio. It is a wonderfully beautiful thing to have them as friends, because I know that I will never have to walk through anything alone. The true test of friendship is finding people who will accept you and love you on the best and the worst days of your life. I got to come home to them when I was crowned Miss Tippecanoe 2025, and I got to come home to them when I failed my first chemistry test. They make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and will sit with me in silence until I'm ready to talk. They have never viewed me as broken, or unworthy, or “too much” to deal with. They love all the pieces of me, including the ones I'm still trying to pick up on behalf of 15-year-old me. To find your village is the best future you can hope for.

I started my junior year of college this year, and I get to spend my days learning from some of the best kinesiology professors in the country. How privileged am I to get to walk with friends to class, sit with and share notes with them, share my joy with them. How privileged am I to sit in a classroom and learn how to help the people around me. I’m ¾ of the way through a bachelor's degree, and I am lucky enough to have one more year of undergrad to be exhausted from studying all night, to be stressed about an exam, to eat terrible cafeteria food. What a joy it is to live out a dream you prayed for over and over. 

In June, I went to Miss Indiana 2024 as Miss Heart of the Midwest. I was nominated as a Joy of Life finalist, an award given for community service and the impact on the people around you. I was given a space to tell my story, and to talk about the girl I've been, the girl I am, and the girl I will be. The whole week was full of memories, love, sisterhood, and joy. I never would have guessed that any of these experiences would be part of my story, but I am so grateful that they are. Pageantry as a whole has brought me so much love, but to get here I had to trust that hope would carry me through. 

Last November I met my wonderful partner, who I am convinced is an angel on earth, and who quickly redefined what I knew love to be. The scars of an abusive relationship will probably always be there, but she loves me regardless, as the whole person that I am. She learned my triggers, and learned how to make me feel loved, and prioritized my joy and safety. I’ve laughed more in the past 12 months than I ever have before. We have coffee dates, and study dates, and spend our days finding adventures to embark on together. I've had to buy multiple new vases because she brings me flowers so often I ran out of clean mason jars to put them in. All of these things are to say that if you start to believe that all you deserve is abusive, manipulative “love”, take my word for it that your brain is lying to you, and that there is a future full of love ahead. There is love out there that does not encompass violence. There is love out there that perpetuates kindness and respect, even within anger. There is love out there that will teach you that not all anger accompanies a fist. There is love out there that will teach you what it's truly supposed to feel like to be cared for; that won't make you cry, and builds you up instead of breaking you down. 

My partner and I even have a beautiful puppy, a sweet girl named Blue. She is my tiny shadow, my companion, and brings me more joy than I even knew I had the capacity for. She is a reminder that there is hope and joy waiting in the form of unexpected experiences, people, animals, feelings, places. Just because you can’t imagine it doesn't mean it isn't waiting for you. All of these things probably seem so frivolous, but to me they are my little pockets of joy. How refreshing it is to have a place to belong; a place where I am wanted and celebrated. How refreshing it is to hear my abusers voice in my head and be able to say “you were wrong. I did it all, and I built a life that is all mine”. How beautiful it is to savor these moments, on behalf of that sweet 15 year old who wasn’t sure if she would live to see 18. I get to have a calm, peaceful, completely uninterrupted life of my own. That is a dream that most survivors do not ever get to live. Some women never make it out. So I sit here today, in my very own apartment, with my beautiful friends, loving family, sweet puppy, and perfect partner, completely full of gratitude. Gratitude for the women who carried my hope for me until I was brave enough to carry it myself. Gratitude for every woman who came before me, and lit the way for survivors everywhere to build a life of their own. It’s my turn to carry the torch. 

My life now is beautiful because I made it that way; because the people around me encouraged me to never settle. Because I found the strength to trust hope and trust love just one more time. If you cannot find that strength alone, please let me lend you some of mine. Heaven knows I didn't get here alone. 
If you take anything away from all of this, let it be this: Do not trust the part of your brain that is familiar with pain and suffering. Do not let it tell you that your life is over. Do not let it tell you that this is all there will ever be. Do not let it decide your future for you. 

You are entirely up to you. No other person’s actions will ever define you, and there is no experience that disqualifies you from being deserving of a love that is safe, secure, and respectful. Allow yourself to make room for unknown joy, and trust the tiny spark of hope in your heart that is whispering to you that a better life is out there. And, when you feel brave enough, take a step forward and seek out the life you deserve; it is waiting for you, whenever you're ready.

Teen Dating Violence Awareness Month by Arianna Shanks-Hill

February is Teen Dating Violence awareness month. Knowing this, and also knowing that teens are disproportionately affected by dating violence while also being the least advocated for age group, I’ve decided to address a different, more specific audience than usual: parents. I’ve made several posts on what signs of dating violence parents can look out for in their teengers, but I want to take it a step further and focus on the preventative; the way that we as a society discuss domestic violence and address our children has to change in order to build a better future. So, what can we teach our younger children that will equip them with the proper tools to be respectful and respected in their future relationships? 

Now, for a disclaimer: I am not a parent, and I am in no way trying to critique people’s parenting skills. This is simply a curated list of observations and examples from my experiences and research I have done, solely for those parents that are searching for tangible ways to prevent victimization or perpetration of abuse. 

1. Modeling healthy relationships with communication. 

Children who witness domestic violence in adolescence are more likely to perpetuate the cycle in the future. Do your best to teach them what healthy relationships look like, and discuss unhealthy interactions openly. You can also model these positive interactions by mitigating disagreements between siblings or peers; teach your children how to express themselves in a respectful way. 

2. Speak to them kindly, even when they make mistakes or get in trouble. You are your child’s first example of love. Name calling or belittling your child out of anger can either a). Teach them to treat others this way when they are angry, or b). Believe that it is okay for others to treat them poorly when they make mistakes. 

3. Teach them about consent. 

This one sometimes sounds strange to parents, but it is very important. Discussing consent with children looks different than it does with teenagers or young adults. With children, it looks like explaining that if someone says they don't want a hug, then we have to keep our hands to ourselves. It can also look like not forcing them to hug & kiss relatives, because we get to choose what to do with our bodies. 

4. Help your children understand and express their emotions in a positive way. Some children are shamed or reprimanded for expressing “negative” emotions, like anger, frustration, disappointment, and sadness. If you can teach your child about their emotions and demonstrate positive, acceptable displays of emotion, they will carry those skills for the rest of their lives. Adults who express anger by throwing things and hitting were previously children with unregulated emotions and no safe space to express them. 

5. Avoid excusing harmful behaviors. 

It's easy to say things like “Boys will be boys” or “That's just how kids play!”. A common one that I was told growing up, that actually turned out to be harmful, was “He probably did that because he likes you”, with ‘that’ being hair pulling, pushing, or other behaviors from children that make others uncomfortable being dismissed as cute or funny. By allowing these behaviors and making excuses for them, you are teaching your children that it's okay for someone to hurt them under the guise of affection or love. 

6. Teach your children to stand up for themselves. 

Of course parents want to raise polite, agreeable children; however, it can be extremely dangerous to teach your kids that they must always be ‘nice’ and never make a fuss. Validating

your child’s feelings and encouraging them to speak up when they feel uncomfortable, hurt, or disrespected will set them up for success later in life because they will know that they do not have to tolerate someone being mean or harming them. You can go multiple ways with this type of lesson, whether you teach them polite ways to diffuse a situation, or you teach them to be more brash and forward. Even something as simple as ‘’That hurt my feelings and I didn't like it’’ can work wonders. The most important thing is teaching your child to be secure enough in themselves and their relationship with you to say something when they feel unsafe or disrespected. 

These tips are most effective at the earliest age you feel comfortable discussing them with your child, so that you can consistently build these skills and help regulate your child as they grow and start developing friendships and relationships. While there is no guaranteed way to prevent abuse, teaching your child to identify and distinguish healthy, safe, acceptable behaviors can help them be better prepared to break patterns and avoid unhealthy relationships before they become toxic and dangerous. Establishing communication with your child is the most essential tip, so that your child feels comfortable discussing things with you, including topics that can feel uncomfortable, like abuse and harmful behaviors they could be experiencing. However, the most important tip I can give parents and families everywhere is to love your children unconditionally, and always be their safe space; you can't always prevent bad things from happening to the people you love but you can support them through it.

"To Those Still Trapped" by Arianna Shanks-Hill

I have once again heard of more girls targeted by an abuser. More girls were now echoing the statement I’ve been making for years. I respect whatever choices these girls decide to make, as long as those choices are made in the absence of fear.

But, I think there are some things that these girls need to hear; some information only a survivor can pass on.

So, when they are ready, here is what I have to say:

I’m sorry that someone made you think violence is love. It isn’t, and there are people waiting to love you in the way you deserve.

I’m sorry that you felt that silence was safer than speaking out. If you feel like you do not have the courage to stand up and tell your story, you can borrow some of mine until you are ready. 

I'm sorry that your life was changed because of someone else’s actions. You are allowed to grieve the person you were before this, but please remember that this is not the end of your story. 

I’m sorry that the person who was supposed to love you made you afraid. You will feel safety in love & in your own skin again. 

I’m sorry that you feel like you’re broken now. There’s nothing wrong with you, and it won’t feel like this forever. There’s hope on the other side of abuse. 

I’m sorry for all of the insensitive and invasive questions that people ask you. Some of them mean well. Some of them don’t. You’ll learn the difference & you’ll decide what you’re comfortable sharing. 

I’m sorry that you flinch when someone raises their voice. Not all anger is accompanied by a fist. 

I’m sorry that you were manipulated to think that you are unworthy. You deserve the highest form of happiness and the truest form of love. Don’t stop until you find it, but do not always rely on others to give it to you. 

There is nothing you could have done to deserve abuse. There’s never an excuse to harm someone & there is no such thing as earning being harmed.

Suffering does not make you brave, and staying in a dangerous situation is not a testament to your compassion. 

It’s okay if you’re not ready yet, but please don’t spend your whole life in the dark. There is light inside you and a better world waiting. 

I love you. I’m not mad at you for not heeding my warning, or anyone else’s warnings. I know how convincing abusers are. It’s not your fault & you couldn’t have known better. 

You do not have to be afraid to come forward. You are not “ruining someone’s life”, and the only people who will ask for your silence are the ones who would benefit from it. It is not “stirring the pot” or “causing drama” to ask for justice. Their reputation is not your responsibility. 

However, you are under no obligation to come forward. Whatever brings you the most peace & puts you on the path to healing is what you should do. 

I am proud of you. Whether you tell the whole world or you never speak of it again, I am proud of you for existing & leaving and choosing a better life. 

You are not alone. I will stand with you and hold your hand until you feel like you can stand for yourself. I will support you and fight for you and carry you with me as long as you need. 

You have so many people who are here to support you, and it’s okay to let them in. You’re not a burden for needing to lean on people 

Prepare yourself for the reactions that the world will have. Remind yourself that you are not bound to the judgements and perceptions of others. Remind yourself that you are more than a negative comment or a snide remark. Remind yourself that you are worth the fight. 

Some people will love you no matter what you do, and some people will never love you no matter what you do. Go where the love is. Anyone who will not stand by you through this is not someone you want by your side at all. 

You are strong in spite of your abuser, not because of them. You do not have to be grateful that it happened in order to celebrate the person you are becoming. 

You are allowed to be angry, or sad, or upset, or even bitter. Anger is your friend & it wants you to know that you have been mistreated. Just remember that we are not meant to wear anger like a second skin; eventually you have to take it off, and set it down, and figure out what your life looks out without it. 

Forgive yourself for not knowing better until you knew better. Forgive yourself for the habits and traits you picked up during trauma. Forgive yourself for fighting back, or for not fighting back. You cannot shame yourself into healing you can only love yourself into evolving.

All of this is to say that I care about survivors in a way that I wish someone had cared for me. I know from experience what it feels like to be in a position where you’re turning over every stone looking for answers. I know how it feels to wish that someone would tell you what you’re supposed to do, what your life is supposed to look like now. There are plans for what happens if you’re in an abusive relationship. There’s plans for how to get you out. There’s no tangible plan for “after” abuse. So with that in mind, this is what I’ll close with: 

I know in my soul that you are brave enough to walk into the unknown and discover what your life looks like now. It’s going to look different, and that’s okay. I’m here if you need me, or if you need a cheering section, or if you just want to tell someone your story. You will only ever have my utmost admiration, never my pity. I created The Gabby Project for me, but I also created it for you. I’m behind you, and the community that surrounds TGP is behind you regardless of how you choose to move forward.

Domestic Violence Isn’t Funny by Arianna Shanks-Hill

Last week, in an effort to de-stress, I turned on the new comedy special Netflix recommended. 

The opening joke was a domestic violence joke. I got 5 minutes into this special and immediately turned it off. The point of the joke was to say that a woman being physically harmed was funny; to make a mockery of the dehumanization and degradation that men inflict on women. The comedian even went so far as to claim that if the woman in the joke could cook, she wouldn't have been brutalized as badly. 

I understand that comedy is subjective. I know all about dark humor, and about how sometimes the shock of a punchline is what makes it funny. 

What I think people fail to understand, however, is that it's not okay to poke fun at a demographic that you are not a part of. It’s not okay to use someone else’s experience as the butt of your joke.

Domestic violence is not funny. Abuse is not funny. Harming another living being is not funny. If you have to stoop to a level of making a mockery of something that takes the lives of thousands of people in an extremely violent and terrifying way, you aren't funny. If you have to use a joke about violence to pander to men, you are not funny. It is never funny to make jokes at the expense of someone being harmed. 

15 year old me deserves better than to be used as a punchline. Survivors everywhere deserve better than to be a punchline. People who have lost their lives deserve to be honored and remembered, not used as a punchline for a pathetic joke that clearly missed the mark. 

Imagine looking a survivor in the eye and trying to explain to them why you found their abuse and trauma comical. Imagine explaining to families that have lost their loved ones to domestic violence that you find violently harming others to be quite funny. Imagine looking at a 15 year old girl and trying to explain why her boyfriend hitting her is funny to you, and that any reaction she has to your ‘joke’ is her being dramatic. 

This boils down to a lack of awareness and a lack of empathy for those affected by domestic violence. I am thrilled that Matt Rife has never had his life touched by domestic violence. I am happy for him that he has never feared for his life from someone who was supposed to love and uplift him. I am glad that he is blissfully unaware of the ramifications of domestic violence.

However, I should not have to expose the details of my abuse to deserve to be respected. I should not have to appeal to someone's humanity to make them understand why making jokes about abuse aren't funny.  

In this instance I will gladly be labeled as “triggered” or “easily offended” or even a “snowflake”, because there is a bigger issue at hand here. When you make jokes  about violence against women, or violence in general, you normalize it. You send a message that as long as it can be used to make a profit, violence is okay and approved by society. By making these jokes you increase the stigma and shame surrounding survivors of abuse. You are actively contributing to the problem. I've also noticed that the only people who jump to call me any of these things are the people who want us to accept and tolerate disrespect under the guise of a “joke”. 

Respectfully, I have survived too much and worked too hard for my experiences to be dismissed in a cheap shot of a joke. I did not fight for my life and fight for a place to share my story so that my experiences could be boiled down to a 2 minute joke with a laugh track superimposed to give the appearance that it was funny. 

I have never felt the need to target someone else’s trauma in an attempt to make the people around me laugh, or to gain their approval. If you are in a position to influence those around you and this is how you choose to do it, what does that say about your character? What kind of legacy do you want to leave? Who do you want to be? What kind of statement are you making for the people who look up to you?

Practice empathy and compassion and do better. 

Strength - A Series by Arianna Shanks-Hill

Domestic Violence Awareness month is coming to a close, but I want to continue my series of answering questions. This particular question is fine to ask, and I’ve been asked it so many times i felt like i should just create a permanent post detailing the answer. My strength comes from a lot of different things, like the people who share their stories with me and thank me after I’ve been on stage or at an event; but my main strength comes from 15 year old me, and from the woman who raised me, which is exactly what i want to talk about. 

What/who gave you the courage to share your story? 

The Gabby Project originated as my CSI for Miss Banks of the Wabash. I called my mom and started panicking, rambling about how we had to pick a “platform” to advocate for, and how overwhelmed I felt with this idea. I kept saying I didn’t know what i was passionate about or what i wanted to advocate for. I listed off a couple things, like mental health and LGBT representation. She took a deep breath and very calmly said “Ari, you know what your platform is. You know what you need to do”. My mom has always known me well enough to guess my next move, or to guide me through a decision I felt i couldn’t make on my own. After she said it, it seemed so obvious. Of course I was going to pick domestic violence. How could I have even considered anything else? 

Shortly after that I realized that in order to effectively advocate I was going to have to come forward and start speaking about my story; something I hadn’t really done prior. There had always been a handful of people who knew about my abuse and my experiences, but I had 

never publicized it. The morning of the competition I found out I would be telling my story on a stage in front of everyone, not just to a panel of judges in a private room. I called my mom again, panicking even worse this time. She gave me the kind of pep talk only mothers can, and it did provide me with some momentary relief. However, before my private interview I was in tears again. how could I do this? Where was I going to get the courage to be so vulnerable? 

I pulled out my phone and started flipping through pictures in my camera roll, my usual trick to help calm me down and remind me of the people supporting me. I came across a picture of my mom and I, where I couldn’t have been any older than 6. It stopped me dead in my tracks. (I’ll include it in this post somewhere I’m sure, just for reference. ) my mom looked so young in the picture, and yet she looked exhausted. Happy to be with her children, but you could tell she was silently suffering. The kind of suffering that drains the life out of even the brightest people. That picture of her was the last little push I needed; she did everything in her power to get me here, and she didn’t get the opportunity to tell her story. She’d never gotten the closure she deserved, and I had the opportunity to advocate on behalf of both of us. I had to take it. 

My mom experienced domestic violence before I was even born. She found herself in an impossible situation that would’ve forced a lesser person to crumble. She never did. She fought and endured and did everything to give her kids the best life possible. 

She was the blueprint. She is where I get my strength from. She is the reason I stepped up the first time. Her strength carries me through every aspect of my life and she is the foundation of

The Gabby Project (whether she knows it or not). I’ve never seen my mom back down from anything, so I knew I couldn’t back down from sharing my story. When I didn’t have enough courage of my own to stand and speak, my mom let me borrow some of hers until I was ready. 

Some parents beg their children not to publicly speak out about their abuse. I’ve seen it happen firsthand; they become uncomfortable with the idea of causing a fuss, and would rather avoid the attention and the “embarrassment”. My mom never once asked me to be quiet. In fact, she encouraged me to speak up. 

The original push that gave me the confidence to share my story was my mom’s courage. Now, it’s the look on my mom’s face when I speak and advocate. I’ve never seen her so proud. It’s a hard feeling to explain when you see your mom tearing up when you talk. Sometimes it’s like she’s in awe of me, like she can’t believe the person I’ve grown into and the impact that I’m making. Sometimes it’s like she sees herself in me, a young girl who refuses to be broken. It’s indescribable. 

I wish I could hold her hand and stand with her every time I advocate. I wish I could bring her on stage and hug her and say “this is your story too. this is your legacy too”.

There Will Be Joy by Arianna Shanks-Hill

By this point, my story is well known. Everyone knows that I have experienced domestic violence and the way that it has impacted me. You know about my advocacy and my passion and you’ve seen my posts. You know the warning signs of abuse, how to get help, what triggers are and how they can occur, what resources are available; you even know my answers to some pretty personal questions. But today let’s talk about the things that can occur after abuse. Let’s talk about the hope and the joy that are waiting on the other side of an abusive relationship. 

When I was 15, 16, 17, I thought my abusive relationship was going to last forever. I thought that was what my life was going to be like. Miserable, hurting, confused, afraid. It didn’t seem like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. So this post is for that girl, and for anyone else that thinks their abuse is all there is to life. 

There is so much joy coming. You will laugh until your stomach hurts, and smile so big you think your face will freeze that way. You will make friends who wrap you in kindness, love, and support. You will reconnect with all the people you were isolated from for so long; they missed you dearly and will welcome you back with open arms. You will be respected, adored, and uplifted by the people around you. You will be taken care of and treated with compassion. No one will treat you like a victim or a burden. There are people who want to understand what you’ve been through to help you work through it, so they can love you to the best of their ability. 

You will find things that bring you joy again. You will find your old hobbies that used to bring you to life and they will fulfill you all over again. You’ll try new things and create a capacity for love and light that you never knew was attainable. You’ll rediscover yourself and realize you love her so dearly. You will regain the ability to fail without allowing it to label you a failure. Your confidence will come back, as will your lust for life. You will find unimaginable strength as well as an incomparable gentleness that separates you from your abuser with a gap they can never close. 

You will experience days that are completely free from trauma triggers and reminders of your abuser. It will be so beautiful, and you won’t even realize it. There will be days when you do experience triggers, and you will fight through them with such tenacity and grace. These heavier days will be even more beautiful than your lighter days. 

All of this to say that there is hope and joy on its way to you. The beauty around you will no longer fade while you exist in survival mode. You will be vibrant and full of life and give love so freely that you shine as a light to everyone around you. 

You can look through these pictures and see the joy in my face. You can see how the light has come back to my eyes and how genuine my smile is. The girl you see in this post is a stranger to the girl I was at 15, which is simultaneously amazing and tragic. I wish 15 year old me knew what was coming for her. I wish anyone experiencing abuse knew how promising their future is. 

It took me a long time to get to the other side of all that the abuse did to me. I muddled through the anger and the pain and the fear and did everything I could to find the light. I still have a long way to go, and healing is never linear. Although I know I will never be able to go back to the person I used to be, I am so proud of the person I have fought to become. 

It has been a beautiful fight; it still is. 

You can never go back and undo what was done, but you can find hope in the fact that you can rebuild yourself into a person that is untouchable. 

If you’re not sure that there is a life on the other side of your abuse, and that fear keeps you from leaving, this is your sign. There is hope and joy and love waiting for you. There are people waiting to care for you. There are places that stand still until you walk in. Everything you’re wanting exists on the other side of that fear. Let hope give you the courage to fight for a better life.