SURVIVED TO TELL

It was the middle of summer, just before her birthday, July 1985. She met the man she thought she could have a serious relationship with. Boy, was she in for a surprise!

Billy was a very goodlooking man and very charismatic, to a degree. He had a way of \"flipping the script\" if that makes sense. Making you feel like what he did was your fault, that he couldn't help himself. He'll never do anything to hurt you. 

After a good period dating for close to a year, living together was the next step when asked. She agreed, like a giddy school girl, she was ecstatic. During the 5 years she lived with Billy she was abused. The first year was great but everything started going downhill for the next 4 years. The abuse was constant, the humiliation was fierce and contemptible. Everything good she did wasn't good enough. Nothing was right according to Billy. All he cared about was drowning in rum and coke, if he had his way he would've soaked in it; most days he reeked of it. 

Into the start of the last 2 years of their relationship/living together, she found out she was pregnant in October of 1990. 3 months later it turned into hell on earth. She did everything right that fateful day, cleaning house to a spotless shine, yard immaculate, clothes washed, dried and put away, dinner was cooking on the stove, table was set...Billy walks, no staggers, inside the house....She told Billy she had some good news and hoped he would be happy about it. 

Billy was enraged, looking like a bobcat ready to pounce after he heard she was pregnant, and when he told her it wasn't his he told her to have an abortion. She stood up, slapped his jaws and told him where he could go. She told him \"you're right he's not yours, he's mine, I'm his mama and daddy.\" He screamed and yelled, calling her every name in the book, verbally abusing her to the point of tears that she was crying like a baby, calling her useless and worthless. 

All of a sudden she felt a sharp pain on the side of her head, her ears were ringing so bad she couldn't hear. She had been hit. Several more hits came that it felt endless. Her nose bled, her eyes were swollen shut, her eye sockets were fractured, her eardrums we're ruptured, some of her teeth were knocked out. Soon she started seizing, then she felt her feet leave the floor, she was picked up and choke slammed against the wall. 

Feeling like every single bone in her body was breaking, Billy began kicking her in the stomach. Kick so hard she felt like his foot would go through her stomach and straight out her back. She suddenly felt something wet...She was bleeding profusely, her thoughts on her unborn baby. Thinking her baby is gone she feels helpless, alone and thinking it's all over Billy might as well just finish her off. After a few more kicks to the stomach, chest and head she begins to feel like she's going to die. She lays there on the kitchen floor exhausted and feeling like she just went 20 rounds with Mike Tyson.

Billy passes out on the floor, and just before she passes out, she calls 911, then without hesitation she grabs the cast iron skillet off the stove and hit him once on the head, dropped to her knees and passed out on the floor hemorrhaging.

Billy lives, sees his son a year after his son turned 10 in 2001, but in 2002, was killed in a head on collision.

She wakes up a week after having surgeries and 6 months after the violence that almost ended her life, she gave birth to a 9lb 4oz and 24 inch long healthy baby boy. 

​​​​From the time he was born until today, she has never forgotten what she almost died from, what she was left with and blessed with and why she survived. 30 years later that brave, humble, strong and blunt honest, respectful and empowered woman never lets what happened to her define her. She's scarred, but not a victim... She's a warrior, she's a survivor....

She's ME.

My fellow Sisters that woman is me. My son is 30 years old now and he's the best thing I've ever done in my life. I'm so proud of him, serving his country in the Marines after he graduated high school in 2009 after I lost my dad. He has a great job and is doing fantastic! **The pictures you see are of me and my son!!** I hope my story helps someone out there and hope it helps you.

Let's stay strong, vigilant and help end this scourge of violence against others. Remember: the abuse against us does not define who we are. We Are Survivors, We Live To Tell.

To my Sisterhood Warriors, I thank you. I'm proud of you. Peace, Love and Hugs!!

Annette Nave

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