This week's inspirational story comes from Diana Juarez of RGV, Texas. We'd like to thank Diana for sharing her story and wish her the best of luck. We hope you enjoy this great story.
 
Domestic violence can happen to anyone of any race, age, sexual orientation, religion or gender. It affects people of all socioeconomic backgrounds and education levels.  On average, more than three women are murdered by their significant other every day.  I’m fortunate enough to be one of the survivors who broke the cycle and made it out alive.  I was at a point where I had low self esteem and found myself stuck in an abusive relationship, fearing for my life and the life of my children, I thought I had no choice.

I was 19 years old with a 2 ½ year old daughter.  I had separated from my daughter’s father and he rarely came around or helped out financially.  I became pregnant with my second child from a different man, ashamed; I kept it a secret for the first seven months.  The father suggested an abortion but my upbringing wouldn’t allow me to go through with it.  Once I made my decision not to abort, he questioned the paternity and requested a paternity test soon after his birth.  I felt guilty and humiliated and became depressed and unhappy with a very low self-esteem.  Society led me to believe no man would want me because my children were born out of wedlock.

After I gave birth to my son, I met my first husband through some friends.  His appearance was far from an abuser.  He told me he also had a daughter from a previous marriage and was divorced from her mother because he had been unfaithful but had learned his lesson from it.  He would say he wasn’t going to mess up the second chance that God had given him.  He made me feel wanted and as if my having two children didn’t make him think any less of me.

He proposed marriage after only a month and desperate for a family, I accepted.  I was eager and scared to end up alone with two children from two different men.  We married only a few months later and immediately, I began to see the other side of him.  The mental abuse began within the first month and progressed as time went by, my bastard children were his main target.  Soon thereafter, I was no longer able to make my own decisions.  He’d control what I’d wear, what I’d spend and who I’d speak to.  There was another side to him and it was evident that it was beyond his control.  He had episodes of anger, control and rage.  It was a wrong move, a wrong word or a wrong facial expression, sometimes it was nothing at all.  It was almost like living with Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde, well, except this Mr. Hyde wasn’t a very good guy either.  My children and I lived in fear that at any moment, he could snap.

To others, he appeared a clean cut, drug and alcohol free, hard working, family man.  He spent all his time at home and rarely had any friends.  He was the oldest of four children which meant responsibility was forced upon him at an early age.  Later, I learned he was raised in an abusive home where affection and emotion was never displayed.  His parents would joke about his father’s methods of punishment over dinner.  They would tell stories of how he was forced to kneel for hours over ant piles, mud or in the middle of the barn yard along with the animals running loose.  He was still afraid of the dark and believed evil had followed him since childhood.  I must admit, it gives me some comfort to know this man still slept with a night light.

A couple of months into our marriage, I found out I was pregnant.  Although he had been asking for a child, matters worsened soon thereafter.  He began beating me, paying no mind to our unborn child.  Three times I was forced to jump out of a moving vehicle fearing for my life in back roads, where he'd say he was going to kill me and destroy any evidence.  I repeatedly ended in the hospital during my pregnancy but by this time, I was too frightened to leave and desperately wanted to make this work.  I was on my third child from a third man; I had to make this work.

During an episode you could see the anger and hatred in him.  He’d roll his eyes back in anger and grind his teeth.  It was as if someone or something took over.  He loved to strangle and suffocate me as he’d whisper threats and put-downs into my ear.  He’d say and do anything and everything to hurt me, there were no boundaries and no respect.  To make matters worse, my children were now forced to watch their mother beaten by the only man they had ever shared a home with.  We were terrified of him and sometimes jumped at the sound of his voice.  His ignorance caused him to feel respected, but it was nothing more than fear.

Eventually, I began modifying my life to accommodate him.  I figured that if I wanted a family, hard work was required.  I was put down on a daily basis and my having my children was his main target.  He once consoled me and then later used everything I had confided in him to tear me down.  I remember having to chant in my head, “I’m not a bitch, I’m not a bitch”.  The sad part is that I didn’t even know who I was.  Every dream that I ever dreamed disappeared, I stopped living for myself and lived my life for him, just to prevent the next beating.

I sought and received so much advice during my marriage but it never made sense.  I figured no one knew what I was going through and surely wouldn’t understand.  My life was at a standstill.  Everything that I ever stood for was on hold.  Whenever he’d go a few days without beating me, it was merely the calm before the storm.  I was no longer my daddy’s little girl, no longer mommy, no longer anything but his victim.

One day, I was at work and decided to stay in for lunch.  I think it was by design that I stayed in that day because another co-worker stayed in.  We talked our whole lunch hour and the words she shared would change my life forever.  She told me, “You and your children deserve to be happy”.  The words stuck in my head like glue.

From that day on, with any beating or argument, I found myself chanting inside my head, “We deserve to be happy”.  Day by day I would tell myself that I was better and deserved better.  They say if you tell someone something long enough eventually, they start believing it.  It was then that it all came down on me.  After five years, it was as if I just woke up.  You may ask, "How do you leave someone or something after so long"?  The answer, "You decide to".  Once that decision has been made, the rest will fall into place.

I felt so betrayed, I realized that I didn’t deserve to get beat, spit on, kicked, punched, cheated on, lied to, threatened, and torn down inside and out.  How could I have been so blind to settle for this?  I made up my mind, got away from him and vowed never to return no matter what.  He was later convicted and sent to prison for other charges involving violence and drugs toward other family members and was denied visitation rights of my daughter.  I knew this was the end of that horrible chapter in our lives.

It’s apparent that once you settle for less than you expected, you’ll get less than you settled for.  So many sacrifices we make as parents, our happiness shouldn't have to be one of them.  I can honestly say that being happy will make your children happy.  I also know first hand that the kind of love you see in a movie is real; you just have to believe yourself worthy.   I’m in control now and I know that no matter what comes my way, I can get through it.  I have learned and felt what true happiness is and I have realized that when you find happiness, even the hard times seem to pass you by.  We all deserve to be happy.