Turning Silence Into Strength: A Journey of Faith, Healing & Hope
By Vanessa Gallegos | Florida | Domestic Violence Awareness Month
Breaking the Silence
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month, a time when survivors and advocates bring light to what’s too often hidden in silence.
For years I carried pain I didn’t have words for—pain that wore the mask of love, concern, and charm. Hearing the stories of other survivors gave me courage to tell my own. Their honesty helped me see that silence never protects the survivor; it protects the one who caused the harm.
When Love Became Control
What began as warmth and admiration slowly turned into control, isolation, and manipulation.
I was made to question my reality, doubt my worth, and apologize for simply existing.
Gaslighting made me feel too sensitive. Charm made me second-guess my instincts.
I learned that emotional and psychological control often disguise themselves as affection.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
Faith became the whisper that kept me going when fear told me to stay quiet.
Through prayer I found strength, and in God’s presence I found clarity: love does not demand silence.
A Partner Would Not…
…invade your privacy or demand access to your phone.
Trust is not surveillance. Demanding passwords, checking your phone, or tracking your location isn’t love—it’s control.
…take away your right to make choices about your own life.
Every person has the right to choose their career, friendships, and future. When someone removes that freedom, they strip away independence.
…make your feelings seem unimportant or exaggerated.
Your emotions matter. When someone dismisses your pain or calls you too sensitive, it isn’t care—it’s control.
…blame you for their behavior.
No one makes another person abusive. Blame is a tactic to keep power.
…silence your voice or make you afraid to speak.
You deserve to be heard. A safe partner welcomes truth and respects boundaries.
Love should feel safe, supportive, and empowering.
If any of these signs feel familiar, know that you are not alone—and what you’re experiencing is not your fault.
Breaking the Silence
Finding the courage to speak after years of fear and confusion.
He stole my identity.
He isolated me, lied, manipulated, and shamelessly played the victim.
But the truth is — I’m the one who survived his abuse.
For a long time, I stayed quiet. I believed keeping the peace meant staying safe. Every apology felt easier than confrontation. Every excuse protected him and buried me a little deeper in silence.
During Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I realized that silence doesn’t protect anyone; it only protects the abuser. Sharing my story isn’t about anger or revenge — it’s about release. It’s about reclaiming the parts of me that were taken.
Through prayer, I began to understand the verse: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18.
Those words became my lifeline. Even when my confidence was gone, my faith whispered that healing was possible.
When Love Turned to Control
How manipulation hides behind charm and care.
It didn’t start with cruelty. It started with charm.
With promises, with understanding, with the kind of attention that makes you believe you’ve finally found someone who sees you.
But over time, the warmth turned heavy. Questions became accusations. Concern became surveillance. Staying silent became my defense.
Little by little, I stopped recognizing myself.
My confidence dimmed. My laughter faded.
The person I once was — creative, full of faith, eager to help — was slowly replaced by someone who walked on eggshells.
What makes emotional and psychological abuse so dangerous is its invisibility.
It’s not always bruises or broken bones.
It’s gaslighting, isolation, and control disguised as care.
I remember thinking, maybe if I just loved harder, prayed harder, stayed quieter, he would change.
But love cannot heal someone who uses control to feel powerful.
Through my healing, I’ve learned that a partner who truly loves you would never need to make you small to feel secure.
As Scripture reminds us, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” — 1 Corinthians 13:4
Control is not love.
Love builds. Control destroys.
And for a long time, I didn’t know the difference — until God started revealing the truth in the quiet moments of prayer.
Faith in the Darkness
Finding light through scripture and surrender.
There were nights when the silence felt unbearable — not peaceful, but heavy.
I would lie awake replaying conversations, trying to understand how someone who once said I love you could twist that love into control.
The lies were louder than my prayers for a while.
But even in the confusion, God never left.
In the stillness of those lonely nights, I began to feel a gentle reminder in my spirit:
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.” — Isaiah 43:2
That verse became my anchor.
I started to pray differently — not for the situation to change, but for me to change.
For my eyes to see clearly, for my strength to return, for my heart to stop apologizing for someone else’s chaos.
Faith became the bridge between who I was and who I was becoming.
Each prayer became a small act of rebellion against the silence.
Each verse, a reminder that I was not alone, not forgotten, not defined by someone else’s brokenness.
God was transforming my pain into purpose, one prayer at a time.
The more I released the need to fix him, the more peace I felt within myself.
That peace didn’t erase the pain — it gave me the courage to face it.
Because the truth is, a partner would not:
- Invade your privacy or demand access to your phone.
- Take away your right to make choices about your life.
- Make your feelings seem unimportant or exaggerated.
- Blame you for their actions or their abuse.
- Silence your voice or make you afraid to speak.
Real love doesn’t strip you of your power — it reminds you of it.
Real love does not demand control — it creates safety.
And in rediscovering God’s love, I began to rediscover my own worth.
Healing and Forgiveness
Releasing what was never yours to carry.
Healing wasn’t instant. It didn’t come with a single prayer or a sudden burst of clarity.
It came slowly — in the moments I stopped defending what broke me, and started defending my peace.
There’s a verse that carried me through that season:
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3
I held onto that promise when I didn’t have the strength to hold onto anything else.
Because God doesn’t just mend what’s visible — He restores what’s been stolen in silence: our peace, our identity, our voice.
Forgiveness was the hardest part.
Not because they deserved it — but because I deserved freedom.
Every time I replayed the pain, the betrayal, or the lies, I was still tethered to the very person I prayed to be free from.
Forgiveness became the key that unlocked that chain.
Through prayer, I realized forgiveness isn’t about pretending it didn’t happen — it’s about releasing the hold it had over me.
It’s about saying, “You no longer get to live rent-free in my spirit.”
When I let go, I didn’t lose anything worth keeping.
What I gained was peace — the kind that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7).
Healing doesn’t erase the past; it transforms it.
It turns wounds into wisdom, fear into faith, and silence into strength.
(Insert lavender graphic: “Never again being the collateral damage in a man’s war with himself.”)
I made a promise to myself and to God:
Never again would I shrink to make someone else comfortable.
Never again would I confuse control with care.
Never again would I let someone else’s brokenness dictate my worth.
Through grace, I’ve learned that boundaries are holy — they protect the peace that prayer builds.
And every day I choose peace, I choose healing again.
Turning Pain Into Purpose
Finding freedom in sharing and purpose in pain.
When I first began speaking about my experience, my voice trembled.
Even writing the words felt like reopening a wound.
But I knew that every time a survivor tells their story, another person finds the courage to stop hiding theirs.
Domestic Violence Awareness Month reminded me that stories are more than memories — they are maps.
They help others recognize the roads of manipulation, the warning signs of control, and the exits toward safety.
I used to think my pain was just pain.
Now I know it’s a platform — one that God can use to help others.
As Scripture says, “They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.” — Revelation 12:11
My testimony is not one of perfection or revenge.
It’s one of redemption.
It’s a story about a God who can turn chaos into clarity, and pain into purpose.
Through sharing, I’ve learned that healing multiplies when it’s spoken out loud.
And I’ve seen how awareness becomes prevention — when one survivor finds the words to say, “That happened to me too.”
Inspired by Haven Hillls, each image reminds others that what they’re enduring is not love — it’s control.
Messages like:
“A partner would not invade your privacy or demand access to your phone.”
“A partner would not take away your right to make choices about your own life.”
“A partner would not silence your voice or make you afraid to speak.”
These words are not just graphics.
They’re lifelines — quiet affirmations for anyone still walking through the fog of emotional abuse.
Because sometimes, all someone needs is to see their pain written in someone else’s voice to finally say, “That’s me.”
God doesn’t waste pain.
Every scar I carry is now a testimony of His faithfulness — a story of deliverance that might help another woman remember she’s not crazy, not overreacting, and definitely not alone.
You Are Not Alone: A Call to Awareness and Action
Because silence should never feel safer than the truth.
When you’ve lived through manipulation and emotional abuse, the hardest part is often believing that anyone will understand.
For years, I thought I was the only one — that if I spoke, I’d be met with judgment, disbelief, or worse, pity.
But I’ve learned that telling your story isn’t weakness; it’s an act of rebellion against shame.
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month, and this time of year carries deep meaning for me.
It’s a reminder that abuse doesn’t always look the same — sometimes it’s bruises, but often it’s words, control, isolation, or financial manipulation.
It’s the slow erasing of self that happens behind closed doors.
Through my own healing, I’ve seen that awareness saves lives.
When survivors speak, others start to recognize the patterns in their own relationships.
When communities listen, change begins to take root.
That’s why advocacy is so important.
Because every survivor who shares their truth is lighting the path for someone else to follow.
If you or someone you know is living in silence, please reach out for help.
There is no shame in needing safety.
There is no weakness in asking for support.
📞 National Domestic Violence Hotline
1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
💬 Text START to 88788
🌐 Visit thehotline.org for confidential 24/7 support.
In Florida, organizations and shelters offer resources for survivors — including faith-based counseling, advocacy programs, and safe housing.
You are never alone, no matter how dark it feels.
As Scripture reminds us, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” — Psalm 46:1
Those words remind me that even when human support feels distant, divine protection never leaves us.
God’s love doesn’t demand silence. It restores the voice that fear tried to steal.
Awareness isn’t just about recognizing abuse; it’s about restoring dignity, rebuilding faith, and reminding survivors that their stories matter.
Faith, Healing, and Moving Forward
Choosing peace after the storm.
Healing is not about forgetting. It’s about remembering differently — without fear, without bitterness, without shame.
It’s about seeing the scars not as reminders of what was taken, but as proof of what was overcome.
When I look back, I see how God carried me through every moment that I thought would break me.
Even when I felt unseen, He was working behind the scenes — preparing me for freedom, not failure.
I often think about Philippians 4:13:
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
That verse became more than just words — it became my heartbeat.
Through faith, I found peace.
Through forgiveness, I found freedom.
Through truth, I found purpose.
I learned that forgiving someone doesn’t mean excusing what they did — it means refusing to let their actions define who you become.
I don’t wish harm. I pray for healing — theirs and mine.
Because peace comes when you stop carrying what was never yours to bear.
Today, I stand as a survivor, not a victim.
As a woman of faith, not fear.
And as a reminder that God can turn any pain into purpose when we let Him use our story to help others.
If sharing my journey helps even one person find the courage to speak, to pray, or to leave, then the pain wasn’t wasted.
This is my way of giving it back to God — as an offering of hope.
To anyone still in silence:
You are not what happened to you.
You are not the lies that were told about you.
You are loved, seen, and worthy of peace.
Read my recent blog on Breast Cancer Awareness and Community Support — because healing is strongest when we lift others together.
