“Freedom was being able to make decisions about my own life. Having thoughts that belonged to me. Not being constantly put down. Being allowed to be myself. The difficulties didn’t end when I left.”
Mum Isn’t A Bad Person
At 41, I am still surprised by how something seemingly small can suddenly pull me back into the past.
I have done years of therapy, personal development, courses and inner work. I understand so much more about trauma now. I know how far I have come – and yet sometimes, there I am again.
I feel what I used to feel. I see images I wish I could erase from my mind. I freeze, I hide, I become defensive, I make myself small.
The beach captures our new dynamic perfectly – fun, laughter, love, unity and genuine happiness.
A few days ago, it happened again.
For a moment, I could see that little girl.
I experienced physical and emotional abuse from a young age at the hands of my own mum. I don’t believe she is a bad person. She went through a great deal of trauma herself, in a time when therapy and mental health support weren’t talked about as they are today.
But as a child, I didn’t understand any of that. I only heard the words.
I was told that I was stupid.
That I would never achieve anything.
Trauma In My Teens
At school I was bullied, and at 14, I witnessed a man shoot his girlfriend because she wanted to leave him. I never received therapy afterwards, and my mental health deteriorated further. At such a young age, I took away some frightening messages about relationships, leaving, and what could happen when a woman tried to choose herself.
Years later, after graduating from university, I left my home country. I thought I was leaving everything behind and starting again. I didn’t realise that you can move thousands of miles away from your past and still carry parts of it with you.
“I witnessed a man shoot his girlfriend…”
I entered another relationship that caused me further harm. I eventually married him. We spent 13 years together and had two beautiful daughters. For a long time, part of me still believed those old messages.
Maybe this was what I deserved. Maybe I really couldn’t do better. And somewhere deep inside was that 14-year-old girl who had witnessed what could happen to a woman who tried to leave.
Reaching Out For Help
In 2021, I finally reached out to women’s organisations and social services.
At first, I struggled to understand that what I was experiencing was domestic abuse. He had never physically hit me, but coercive and controlling behaviour had slowly been breaking me down.
In September 2021, I walked out of my home with my daughters and entered a women’s refuge.
We lived there for nine months.
This captures the love, equality and partnership my partner and I share. Neither of us rules the other – we stand side by side, support each other and face whatever life brings together.
I went from having a home and financial security to being homeless with my children, strangely, this was also where I began to understand what freedom felt like.
Freedom was being able to make decisions about my own life. Having thoughts that belonged to me. Not being constantly put down. Being allowed to be myself.
The difficulties didn’t end when I left. There followed a long court process, but eventually my daughters and I were able to build a more stable life – and slowly, we did.
I had a beautiful home, a good job, my girls with me, and an amazing, loving partner.
Life finally felt peaceful.
The Cancer Diagnosis
Then I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
The last nine months have involved hospital appointments, a mastectomy, chemotherapy and now radiotherapy, which I am just finishing.
I lost my long hair. I have a large scar across the left side of my chest. For a while, the woman looking back at me in the mirror felt like a stranger – Once again, my mental health took a hit.
Before my treatment
But slowly, I started coming back to myself. I began getting stronger and learning to like the woman in the mirror again, not because she looked exactly as she did before, but because she was still me.
And then came that small trigger I mentioned at the beginning.
After everything. After all that work.
There I was again.
But something is different now.
Lately, when a difficult feeling comes up, I have found a way of giving it somewhere to go.
I write.
I’m not a musician, but as a creative hobby I began writing uplifting pieces inspired by emotions and experiences from my own life, using modern technology and AI tools to help turn my words into songs.
Going through treamtment
I am not the voice singing them. But the stories are mine. The lyrics are mine. The feelings behind them are mine – creating them has become a surprisingly powerful tool for my own wellbeing.
My latest song, How to Live Again, came directly from that recent trigger.
It came from the frustration of thinking I’ve walked away from the relationships and places that were unhealthy for me. I’ve spent years working through trauma. I’m proud of the woman I’ve become. So why can something still pull me back there?
Before my first radiotherapy appointment
I spent an entire day crafting this song.
It didn’t come from typing one prompt into an AI tool. I spent hours working on the lyrics, changing words and lines until they truly reflected what I was feeling. Then came the music, and afterwards I created the video.
Something happens to me during that process.
I cry. I feel. I understand things differently. Something begins to settle.
Then comes the repetition.
I hear the song again and again while creating it. Eventually, the words begin to feel less like something I wrote and more like something I know. I sometimes say that I can feel the message “in my bones”. It is difficult to explain any other way.
One of the lines in How to Live Again says:
“I can gently lay the armour down.”
And perhaps that is what I am learning now.
I don’t have to erase my past or guarantee that I will never be triggered again. I don’t have to fight every old battle simply because my mind remembers how to fight it.
Sometimes I can notice what has happened, give the feeling somewhere to go, and remind myself:
There is no battle here right now.
Looking To The Future
Right now, I want to recover from breast cancer, spend time with my daughters and my partner, and live the life that took me so long to realise I was allowed to have.
But I also want to use what I have experienced to reach other women carrying stories that may look different from mine but feel strangely familiar, childhood abuse, coercive control, illness, a changing body, or years spent believing they weren’t enough.
The new me – Learning how to live again
I am not a therapist, and I don’t have all the answers – but I have my story.
I have my words.
And now I have my songs.
So I share them.
Because perhaps another woman will hear one line and think:
“That’s how I feel too.”
Maybe it will give words to something she hasn’t been able to explain.
Maybe it will simply remind her that she isn’t the only one.
And if something I originally created to help myself find my way back can do that for somebody else, then sharing it is worth it.
This is How To Live Again.
