Everything Is Not As It Seems

Everything Is Not As It Seems

For a long time, I lived behind a mask. On the outside, everything looked perfect. We lived in a brand-new home. I had what everyone thought was a good marriage. He was quiet, hardworking, played guitar, and people thought I was lucky. What they didn’t see were the bruises I covered with makeup. What they didn’t hear were the names, the threats, and the fear that became part of my daily life.

People told me to try harder, be a better wife, pray more, or take medication. They couldn’t see that behind closed doors, I was being broken down piece by piece, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Every job I got, he would find a reason to make me quit. Every dream I had, he would find a way to crush it.

One morning, after years of being afraid, I finally stood up for myself. I said, “Kick me out, I don’t care. I would rather live under a bridge and be happy than live in this house and be miserable.” That moment came with bruises, it came with pain, but it also came with freedom. And I would take that freedom a thousand times over again.

Abuse doesn’t always start with fists. It starts with control. It starts with fear. It starts with believing you don’t deserve better. I was just sixteen when the pattern began. What I thought was playful roughhousing was really abuse. Then the next relationship, the same thing. And the next. Until I finally broke the cycle.

I’ve been through physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional manipulation, and abandonment. The hardest part of all of it is that I stand here with no children because of the trauma my body went through. That is what hurts the most. But I’ve learned that even in the deepest pain, there can be purpose. I thank God for my second chance at life, because not everyone gets one.

Today, I stand not only as a survivor but as a warrior. I have a husband now who is kind, patient, and supportive in every way. At first, that kindness was hard to get used to. When you’ve lived in fear for so long, love feels unfamiliar. I kept waiting for the yelling or the control, but it never came. Instead there was patience, gentleness, and understanding. It took time to believe it was real, but now I know it is.

Clark encouraged me to sing again, to create, and to believe in myself. Together we built Expressive DeZien, our design business. He’s also the reason I sing under the name JOOTB short for Jeannie Out Of The Bottle, because after years of silence, I finally got free.

I now serve on the Board of Directors for Sheena’s Helping Hands, a nonprofit that understands the struggle. If you ever need help or know someone who does, please reach out. There are people who have been there and who care deeply.

Through Bleu Mondaze, the music community I’m proud to be part of, I’ve found joy and belonging again. Music healed me. The part of me that was once broken is now the part that shines the brightest.

When I think about those lost to domestic violence, I remember my dearest friend Selby Minner. Many of you knew her. She was full of light, love, and strength. But she too wore a mask to hide her struggle, and now she’s gone far too soon. Her story reminds us that even the strongest among us can be suffering in silence.

Domestic violence doesn’t only happen to women. Men experience it too. It knows no gender, no age, no income, and no faith. It can happen to anyone.

If you’re reading this and you feel trapped, please know there is hope. You CAN get out. You don’t have to stay. You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be free.

Today, I’m living proof that there is life after abuse. I’m a business owner, an artist, a singer and writer. I’m surrounded by love, purpose, and community. But most of all, I’m free.

Freedom isn’t just about leaving the person who hurt you. It’s about reclaiming your voice, your joy, your worth, and your peace. It’s about realizing that everything is not as it seems, and that sometimes, behind the strongest smiles, there are stories of survival that need to be told.

So I’ll keep telling mine. Because if my story helps even one person take that first brave step toward freedom, every scar, every tear, and every word was worth it.

If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or text START to 88788. Help is available 24 hours a day.