October: A Month of Heavy Reflection and Advocacy

October is a hard month for many people, and I am one of them. It’s Domestic Violence Awareness Month and Baby Loss Awareness Month—both things I have, unfortunately, experienced. For a long time, I didn’t realize just how much hiding these experiences and not speaking out would impact me. I stayed silent. I pushed it all down. And in doing so, I created a weight that has stayed with me for years.

Baby loss is still something I don’t talk about much. It’s wrapped in layers of shame and guilt that I am still working through. Honestly, I struggle so much with feeling like I cannot talk about it, and yet, here I am, sharing this part of my story with anyone willing to read. When I experienced loss in the past, I numbed it in countless ways: self-harm, my eating disorder, and drowning myself in endless activities, anything that could keep me so busy I wouldn’t have time to think.

But now, I think about it all the time. Both the losses and the relationship that led me to them. These two things we bring awareness to in October hold a particularly heavy place in my heart because, for me, they are connected. The abusive relationship I was in led to the pregnancies I lost, and I can’t help but wonder if that relationship played a role in those losses. I didn’t immediately recognize how wrong that relationship was. It didn’t start that way. Abuse doesn’t always present itself right away—it’s subtle, like a slow unraveling.

The injuries I sustained, while not always physical, will forever remain mentally. Some scars will never heal, and that reality makes things harder at times. But I am also beyond thankful for the support I have today because, without it, I don’t know where I would be.

As I step into a new town, part of me is always fearful of settling down. What happens if I let my guard down? That fear has always been there. But even with those fears, I feel confident in the steps I’m taking to protect my safety. I’ve learned that there are things I need to do to keep myself safe, and while I cannot let my guard down right now, I also refuse to let that fear control my life.

I will continue to live to the best of my ability, doing everything I can to protect myself and those around me. I will also continue to use my voice to advocate for survivors. Lately, I’ve felt a strong pull toward advocating for better protection for survivors who choose to leave abusive relationships or go through the legal system. The lack of protection in place is a significant barrier to seeking justice or pressing charges, and I’ve seen this firsthand in my own journey.

I know my battle is far from over. But I will keep speaking out for those who, for whatever reason, can’t speak for themselves. My voice matters, and I won’t let fear or shame silence it anymore.