Thirteen years ago I was kidnapped moved 300 miles and held in captivity. Not in what may be called the “traditional sense” of being taken from a dark parking lot in the middle of the night, but instead I was manipulated into what I thought was a relationship and cut off from my friends and family. I was beaten, raped, stabbed and left for dead — all while being made to feel like I deserved every bit of it. As a result, I ended up pregnant with my abusers child. I reached out to my mom and my church, but was told that I owed it to God to stay where I was. As much as I was made to believe that I deserved what my abuser did to me, I could not, no, I would not let him do the same to my baby. I decided to fight. I fought hard every single day and saved every penny I could find. When I finally had saved enough I bought a train ticket and ran back to what I thought was safety.After three grueling months of living in constant fear and looking over my shoulder at every turn just waiting for him to come find me, I finally found the courage to call the police. My abuser was arrested and I was finally free. Or so I thought. The mental and physical scars were still so fresh that I didn’t think I would ever feel safe from my abuser. I decided to hire a body guard to try and find some small semblance of peace. To my complete surprise I felt safe for the very first time. In just a few short weeks we were married and in spite of everything I endured, I finally began to find healing. Thirteen years later we are still very happily married living life with our 3 beautiful children.