I have known this day was coming for a while. “He” is beingsentenced next week and I need to write a victim impact statement to be read atthe hearing. I have rehearsed it in my head a million times. I will soundstrong and my words are going to be so powerful that they will somehow make adifference. He will say the “I’m sorry” he has never once uttered. His family willapologize for publicly shaming me, their harassment, the death threats. Fastforward to reality and I am looking at my computer screen wondering what to say.

How do you measure the impact of almost being killed by aman you once loved? How do you measure the impact of suffering debilitatinganxiety attacks, sleepless nights because sleep equals horrible nightmares? Whatis the true impact of his family’s harassment and brazen death threats while inthe courthouse? How do you explain that when you look back, all you see areshattered pieces of the life you once wanted so badly? How do you explain whyyou just didn’t leave?

Shame has filled many of my days and nights. How could I leta person like this in my home near my children? How could I possibly explain toanyone that I was afraid to run out of my own house to escape him when I wouldbe leaving him behind with a gun and my children still there? He broke me—emotionally,physically, financially. Each day, I wanted someone to ask me about thebruises, the bloody scratch marks, the black and blue bite marks, or how myhand was broken. I wanted the hospital to ask me if he did it, but the truthis, I would have lied, and I did on countless occasions.

How do I explain the judge and everyone in the courtroomthat he broke me, and I will never be the same again? How do I explain that I don’thate him even after he tried to kill me? How do I explain that I simply want tomake sure he doesn’t do this to the next woman and that I’m afraid she won’tsurvive to actually make a statement? I wasn’t his first, but I was his worst.His family covered for him, his mother his own personal “fixer.” People knew,but it wasn’t talked about. I innocently walked into a ticking time bomb and Idon’t wish that on anyone.

The true impact of this, I don’t know. What I do know is hemany have broken me but I am recovering. I am putting the pieces back together.I am rediscovering happiness. I have learned I am stronger than I thought. Theshame that once filled me is fading and I often wonder if he feels any. I don’tbelieve he does, but the more survivor stories I hear, I understand that shameis a common thread that links most of us. I think our conversations need tochange and it should be the abusers expressing shame, not us.

In an odd way, I am thankful for this whole thing. I am not completely“there” yet, but I am proud of where I am heading and the person I am becoming.I don’t think I will be writing a victim impact statement after all.

I am going to write a survivor statement.

Written by Joy Elizabeth at Finding Joy Again
11/14/2019