You Didn’t Break Me — You Helped Rebuild Me
You always told me it was about family.
About doing what’s right.
But really, it was always about you.
To my ex —
You didn’t just watch.
You helped them.
You handed me to the wolves.
And you stood there while they tore me apart.
You weren’t a husband.
You were a ghost with skin — present in body, but empty in soul.
You let your mother run your life, raise your kids, control your marriage.
And not because you believed in her —
but because you didn’t have the spine to stop her.
You let her take over.
You let her decide when our kids ate, bathed, spoke, slept.
You let her unplug the phone.
You let her tell me how to be a wife, while you acted like I wasn’t even human.
You knew she was evil.
You didn’t follow her religion.
You didn’t even speak to her before the babies.
But you still gave her the keys to our lives and told me to call it love.
You didn’t fight for me.
You didn’t fight for them.
You didn’t fight for anything that mattered.
And when it came time to choose —
you chose her.
Over our kids.
Over their safety.
Over me.
And when I begged to leave, when I begged for space, for help, for escape —
you let her threaten my life. And you threatened it too
You let her trap me.
You helped her drive me to the edge, and then kicked me over it without hesitation
I didn’t walk away.
I was forced out.
I ran for my life — and for theirs.
And still — you told lies to cover your shame.
You told people I was unstable. That I was dramatic.
You tried to erase the abuse, protecting your dark.family secrets. Protecting her while hurting your children
But you’ll never erase the truth.
You don’t get to hide behind silence anymore.
You were not a victim of her. You were an accomplice a just as guilty equal piece of the puzzle.
To the Queen of Control —
you wore righteousness like a crown,
but ruled through conreol fear and manipulation.
You called your home a place of God —
but it was filled with cruelty, chaos, and cold floors where my abused children slept.
You held my children hostage in your warped belief system.
You locked us out. You rationed food. You monitored every breath I took.
You convinced the world you were a savior
while we starved in silence and begged for warmth.
You found joy in the pain you caused us.
You stripped me of everything.
My voice. My rights. My humanity. My motherhood. My life.
But what you didn’t know?
You were lighting a fire you soon couldn’t control.
The day you forced me out, you thought you won.
You thought you’d silenced me. Got rid of me for good.
You thought I’d fall apart. And die alone and cold.
But I didn’t break.
I rose. Stronger than id ever imagine I could.
I found strength deep inside me to finally help myself.
A fight i learned tonlean in to.
I rebuilt a home. Restored relationships. Found a job. Found people worthy of being called friend. Worthy to walk beside me. I fought for and SAVED my children
I got them in school, therapy, and healing.
I gave them voices when yours tried to crush them.
I gave them food without shame, baths without begging, and safety without question.
And a life that every child deserves to live
I gave them the version of me you tried to bury — and she’s a mother with a fire inside that you’ll never break again.
So, hear this:
You didn’t just fail me.
You failed your children.
You let generational abuse flow through your silence like a poisoned river.
But me?
I stopped the flood. And I’m still holding it back.
And I’m still here.
Still fighting.
Still mothering.
Still unshaken by the rubble you left me in.
You gave me the ability to understand just how deep a mothers love for her children runs, and the supernatural force she possesses
to make sure they are kept safe from any harm that comes their way.
Watch how far we go! We won’t look back.
And no — this isn’t a thank you.
But it is a SOLID confirmation
You didn’t break me – You helped rebuild me.
If my words spoke to your heart, you can help support our journey:
Letters From the Edge 