“At three, I started violin. At five, I started piano. At six, my life fell apart; my family was uprooted, and my mother, brother, and I were left homeless and penniless.”

Fifteen years ago, I was homeless with my two sons. No car, no computers, toys, phones…. nothing but what we wore when we escaped my abusive husband.

It was the most excruciating experience I’ve ever been through. I’m not sure I would have survived if it wasn’t for my sons. I focused every moment on them, trying to make their lives somewhat normal.

“Small things” that we all take for granted suddenly became difficult to manage: getting my sons to school on time, doing laundry, feeding them daily, and finding computers to do homework.
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The power of friendship was one of the glimmers of light that helped me transform during this extremely dark and painful time. I’m fiercely independent and not used to asking for help. Or even accept it. – But I did! Because I couldn’t do it all on my own.

Four months, three weeks, and one day! That’s how long we were homeless. As word spread about our situation, friends and acquaintances reached out and offered to help us. One family lent me a car for a few weeks, and others offered temporary shelter. My youngest son was only six, and his friends from school gave him some of their toys and books since he had nothing.

Going through a divorce with a narcissist is not pretty or predictable. Like many other narcissists, my husband was a control freak. After I left with the kids and filed for divorce, he did everything he could to make our lives miserable.

To control his world, he had set up our email addresses, mailboxes, car titles, and many other things in a company name. By doing so, he took all my emails, contacts, and calendars with dates for physicals, dentists, and school events for the children away from me. Without a phone or computer, I was lost.

I went to our PO. Box to get our mail and found out he’d switched the lock. I asked an employee where my mail was; he told me I couldn’t have it even though it was addressed to me and I had an ID. I asked him to change the address for me and the children, but only the company who rented the box could file for that.

Everything had become complicated and time-consuming, exactly what my husband wanted. I realized he did not regard our children’s physical or emotional safety. A psychiatrist had told me that narcissists consider their spouse and children a part of themselves, like a limb, and he would punish me for the rest of my life for cutting that limb off by leaving him. I accepted that, but I never thought he would hurt our children.

Her journal is in the book; she writes: “I refuse to let this disease get the best of me. “I’m going to use it as an opportunity to become a better human being.”

Look at challenges as opportunities!

I thought that if she could do that, facing a terminal illness, I should certainly be able to have the same courage in my situation.

I realized that by changing my thinking, I could alter the way I experience life. And by focusing on positive changes instead of on my ex-husband and his actions, the pain and darkness started to lift ever so slowly.

I knew I had to accept my situation. Otherwise, I’d be battling life. By accepting, I had peace. And from peace, I made better decisions because I didn’t focus on my problem… but on how I could solve it.

I was diagnosed with CPTSD. I know I’ll always have triggers and may not be able to eliminate my pain, but I don’t have to identify with it. I’m not my pain. I can transcend it.

Despite the vicissitudes in their lives, my sons have grown up to be compassionate, hardworking, fun-loving, and grateful young men with extraordinarily high emotional IQs.

My son Nik wrote that essay about being homeless. The essay got him into a fantastic university. They made him a University Scholar and gave him a full academic scholarship. My older son, Spenser, is a dad to twin boys and the best father I’ve ever seen.

Life truly is Great!