This is for you, the abused woman who is reading this right now. The woman who is tired, scared and feeling trapped. The woman who is pretending she’s fine while she’s falling apart inside. The woman who keeps saying, “It’s not that bad,” even when she knows it is.

I want to speak to you because I was you

In 2013, I married a man on a beach on a day so perfect it felt like a blessing. I believed I had found my forever. I believed I was safe. I believed I was loved. Having been married before, I wanted this marriage to work more than anything.

Three months later, I left South Africa, and left my family to build a life with my new husband. I believed I was creating opportunities for all of us. I trusted him. I supported him. I stood by him. And he did the same for me, at least in the first few years.

We were in our prime years, rediscovering life with the excitement of people in their 20s. But neither of us fully embraced the challenges that came with that new beginning. And slowly, quietly, painfully… I began losing myself in a foreign country. I felt alone, insecure, and unsure where I belonged.

In 2015, when we moved back to South Africa, he stayed behind for three months. Something shifted. His tone became sharper, his behaviour more aggressive. Another red flag I ignored. When we reunited, he was different, but I didn’t question it, only to keep the peace.

In 2016, we bought two franchise businesses. Everything went into my name. The debt fell onto my shoulders. And every time he didn’t get his way, the aggression escalated. More red flags and warnings were ignored. Partly because I wanted the marriage to work, and partly because I feared judgement.

Then came 2020, the moment that shattered everything.

He cornered me in our walk‑in cupboard and banged my head against the shelves until I had a concussion that lasted weeks. I secretly went to the doctor and hid the note. I told him that if it ever happened again, I would go to the police. We never spoke about it. I was too afraid of his anger, too conditioned to keep the peace, too used to carrying the emotional weight alone.

In January 2024, two days after our 11th anniversary, he asked for a divorce. My world collapsed. He denied having an affair. However, when I wanted to check his phone, he pulled it away and added a passcode, I knew the truth. As soon as someone has something to hide, there is something big to hide.

By mid‑March, he moved in with her

At the end of March, after repeatedly asking him to contribute to shared responsibilities, I took money from the business account legally, with my lawyer’s confirmation. On 1 April 2024, he and his girlfriend came to confront me.

That night, he assaulted me so severely that I landed in hospital for five nights with a lacerated kidney, a lacerated lung, and broken and fractured ribs. He left me lying in the road. They drove away.

What followed was a maze of protection orders, court cases, postponed hearings, and emotional collapse, all while running a business and watching my mother lose her battle with cancer. I slipped into depression, anxiety, overwhelm, grief, fear, and complete exhaustion.

Slowly, I began to rebuild myself from the inside out using the techniques I use in my coaching. There was so much support from my family and friends without the judgement I thought I would experience.

I worked on my nervous system, my self‑esteem, boundaries, intuition, patterns, confidence, self‑love and more. I learned to see and face red flags early. I learned to protect my peace. My lesson in all this chaos was to choose myself, and it took time for me to trust myself again.

Freedom didn’t arrive in one moment. It arrived through healing, one step at a time, deliberate, deeply personal. There is no reset button. But healing is possible far beyond what you even think is possible.

Today, I stand not as a victim, but as a woman who awakened. A woman who reclaimed her voice. A woman who rebuilt her inner world. A woman who refuses to abandon herself ever again.

I didn’t just survive him. I outgrew him

My story is not one of breaking; it is one of becoming.

And if my journey teaches anything, it is this: An abused woman can lose everything she thought she was and still become someone stronger, wiser, and more aligned than she ever imagined.

After or through trauma, you can shrink, stay a victim, or be someone who is constantly in survival mode and not living life to the fullest. Or you can grow and eventually thrive. I chose the latter. I found inner peace and freedom, and I protect both fiercely and gently.

If you are an abused woman reading this and you feel something inside you whispering, “This is me,” then it’s time to choose yourself. Time to heal and to reclaim your life.

If you’re an abused woman and you are ready to take the first step, reach out now by clicking here to book one free session. Your healing begins the moment you decide you deserve more, and I’m here to guide you through it.

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