Beyond Blessed is a safe place for victims and survivors.

One of the most comforting words that I ever  heard was  'me too.' When you hear that your struggle is also someone else's struggle, you know that you are not alone, and you can share freely without being judged.  What a relief that is because not everyone understands what an abuse victim goes through. Many people think they have the answer "just Leave" HA if it was just that easy, you think I would still be here?

Welcome to Beyond Blessed, where you are not alone, and you can feel free to be you. I (we) have been down the same road. 

I have always had a heart to love freely, a little girl, that only wanted to be loved in return. Forced to become a brokenhearted little girl who just knew that her body could make others happy even if it left her hurting, scared and disgusted. Love was a slap or beating for simply existing in the eyes of some of her most trusted family members.  

"They love me because I am not in foster care or the system" The system is what they would always threaten me with if I told a soul what was happening to me at home.  That's what the men and women in my family did; they beat, molested, and raped me starting at the age of eight. The words whispered  in my ear as they had their way with me, " no one is going to love you like me.'  

I wondered if this was a universal term used by these sick humans because they all said the same thing, the very same words. Oh, and don't forget this one, " you better not tell anybody, or you will wish you hadn't." 

 I found myself in my first abusive relationship at the age of fifteen with a twenty-seven-year-old man. Still, I did not realize that I was being abused physically, emotionally, financially, sexually, molested, and raped all over again.  In my eyes, It was love. 

  Motherless and fatherless. I was always seeking attention and affection from anyone that would give it to me, especially men. 

Being abused as a child, I made myself believe that it was love. I knew the things that were taking place were wrong, but who was I going to tell. Mental, sexual, physical, and emotional, the. Story of my life. 

Like many others, my abuse began in my own home at the hands of my flesh and blood.