Survivor Heroes
I have had the privilege of getting to know some awesome survivors who have contacted me with the desire to share their stories. On these pages, you will meet some individuals who not only survived horrific abuse and assault, but who have embarked on an amazing journey of healing. Not only have these heroes survived and healed from their post traumatic stress, they are now helping others.
If you would like to share your story, please e-mail me. Hope Forus reserves the right to include stories most suitable to Hope4Survivors.com
In order to protect and secure the privacy of these survivors, some names have been changed or omitted.
If you would like to correspond with any of these amazing survivors, please e-mail me. I will be happy to forward your message on to them. Any contact information provided herein has been included with permission.
WARNING:
Some survivor stories and their accompanying abuse accounts are VERY graphic! Please use caution when deciding if you want to read them! This page is NOT meant for children or PTSD/Sexual Abuse Survivors who are easily triggered!
Please Note: The survivor stories provided here are only included at the request of individuals who have contacted me for the purpose of sharing their stories. Stories are NOT shared without such a request. There are many, many more awesome survivors out there, many of whom share their personal stories via Blogs and Web sites. Some of these are listed on my Survivor Web Sites, Blogs & Groups links page.
August 4, 2006
Hi! My name is Namid, and I wanted to thank you for your beautiful site. We need more people like you in the world.
If I may, I'd like to briefly share my story with you. I grew up in a typical Hispanic home, my father was born in Puerto Rico, my mother is white. My father verbally abused me throughout my entire childhood, up until the age of 17 when all communication between us finally stopped. He sexually abused me from the age of 5 to the age of 12. I was considered "different" and "difficult" within my family because they didn't understand. Sadly, my mother had an inkling as to what was going on, but did nothing about it. I was in and out of therapy for most of my life. Like most survivors, I was eventually diagnosed with PTSD, something I still struggle with. My mother tried to institutionalize me at one point, but thankfully, it didn't happen. I got myself involved in very unhealthy & abusive relationships time and again in my late teens and early twenties. That all culminated to a relationship that seemed good until he raped me, and then I became pregnant from it. I have written a book about that particular rape and my recovery from it, but I do give a good detailed background. I hope to have it published soon. I have also begun modeling. That has been a wonderful way for me to reclaim my body, and see it in a new light.
If my writing, modeling or anything else can be of use to you, please let me know. I have made helping other survivors my life's goal. Whatever I can do to help and support women and men who have had to endure this, I will do. Again, thank you for all that you are doing. Take good care, and bless you!
Sincerely,
Namid
July 22, 2006
11 years ago I was on the docks in Hawaii cleaning my gear ( scuba ). I was told not to be out that late but my gear was very expensive and I did not have the money to buy more.
Two men came up behind me and attacked me, one was raping me the other started stabbing me. I was able to scream once before they tried to cut my throat. They missed and got me in the face. Then when they tried to do it again a police officer shot him in the head, and got the other one too. One died right there and the other tried to kill himself in jail.
I on the other hand fought for my life for 3 weeks before I pulled out of it and started recovery. I now have a lot of medical problems but glad to be alive. My life is spent indoors and I am a volunteer for a local rape crisis center but I want to do more online.
My name is not important but the help I can give other women and children is important. Please let me help.
Our names are Caroline and Michaela (pictured left). We are two senior girls in High School. We made this myspace (click on their picture to go to the Blog) to go with our senior project which we are hoping will promote child abuse awareness. Check out our future blogs for more information about the slaughter of innocence.
Here is a movie we created with Martina McBride's Concrete Angel as the background music.
Make sure to watch it! Please click on the logo at left to be connected to the video.
Please use caution when viewing this video. It is excellent and something everyone needs to be aware of, but it is also extremely graphic. If you are a survivor of childhood physical abuse, the video could act as a trigger to your own trauma related emotions.
September 11, 2006
Fran is a brave, young (she's only 19), talented survivor. Please use caution when deciding to read her story, as it may be very triggering. By providing her story, Fran hopes to help others realize that they are not alone. To learn more, please visit her Blog.
You've already met Fran on our Inspiration page. After much contemplation and work, Fran has written her story of survival from horrific sexual, physical and emotional abuse. Please click here if you are ready to read her courageous story. Please be sure you are in a safe place, both mentally and physically before reading, as it may be triggering to your own abuse related emotions.
~One More Nail~
One more nail added to my coffin
Did you hear my cry?
One more harsh word spoken
Leaving my heart to feel broken
Is that domestic violence?
No, did I lie
I tried to reach out the only way I knew how
Please, not now
I am too busy to listen to your pain
I wished you really would
Another nail hammering down
But it is silent, you don't hear it
It don't make a sound
Live, oh how I wished I could
Weight it holds me down
I try, I want to walk away free
My heart pounding
It takes all the strength within me
One foot in front of the other
It is very hard to breathe
I know I have injuries from long ago
Making it harder for me to walk
Without so much pain
Totally isolated
Do you see?
Another nail shutting me down
Seeking help
What good did it do for me?
Soft dirt you now see
This is where I am
Buried here beneath this big oak tree
Silenced forever
No one heard me
~Marie Waldrep~
Copyright 2006 - All rights reserved.
This next story isn't really one either...it's another poem. However, I wanted to include it as a tribute to an amazing survivor I know named Marie Waldrep. I have posted some of her other poems on the Inspiration page. Her poems speak to me. They speak of how often survivors are not heard. It is important that survivors stick together and lend an ear of support to each other. Marie heads up an awesome on-line support group that does just that. It is called the Silver Braid Survivor Network. If you haven't done so already, please check them out and join. It has been a great comfort to me and many other survivors. Please don't let the name on the Web site turn you away. This is a group of survivors of many forms of sexual violence, not just those of sexual exploitation/sex industry.
December 20, 2006
The latest entry is another poem by an amazing survivor who has found great release and relief through writing.
I see you seated there
Your face blank, no expression.
No words come forth form your mouth.
You are my tower of strength
My pillar of light.
Yet you sit there still.
I fight battles and wars on my own
Gaining strength from wounds.
I still need your protection
But I have learned I cannot depend on you
For assistance against the demon
You may love him, but does that mean you can't love me?
You have fought for everything you have
So have I.
I fought for my very life
Why can't you stand?
Why can't you move?
Fight for me?
Will you please?
I am not worth the effort.
Words are thrown at me like daggers.
Ready to make their kill.
Yet you sit there still
I have to pick up my own shield
So flimsy and light
The words pierce my heart, breaking through my weak walls.
Yet again I smile and make my silent scream.
I get used to the pain searing through my once youthful soul.
You finally move to clean up his mess.
Fix HIS problems.
Apologies flow from his mouth and yours.
They mean nothing.
Once again I learn not to trust words.
Copyright 2006. All rights reserved.
