Samantha Ortiz: I woke up one day and said, “Enough.”

Samantha Ortiz: I woke up one day and said, “Enough.”

What makes me a beautiful disaster? There are some days that I think of my past and realize how far I have come in life. Then there are days that I am still wondering why I am here to endure heartache and pain. From the ruins of the years that have gone by, I am still rebuilding myself. You see, after years and years of dealing with physical, mental, verbal, and emotional abuse from those whom I thought loved me, I have come to the realization that I am still broken. However, I am slowly picking up the shattered pieces of my life and rewriting my story.

It took me a long time to purchase something from the Beautiful Disaster Brand because I felt if I did, it meant I could no longer hide. The words that I would now wear on my clothing would show the world my secrets that I have hidden for so long. My scars are all in view now and people will ask me what my story is, and truth be told, I am still scared to tell certain parts. Maybe the truth is that they may not really want to know and that scares me as well. I love reading about the strength of the other men and women and having something in their stories that resonates within me to my very soul’s core. It is feeling their pain and their courage. It is understanding them as people, not just as statistics. It is seeing how each person has grown in his or her own way, fighting their own personal battles and beginning new journeys. 

Like so many others, my life has been filled with sadness and tragedy. From being sexually abused and raped as a 9-year-old child, to realizing my parents never really wanted me, and then enduring my own marriage filled with hatred and domestic violence. I endured more hurt and pain from the very man that I thought would be the one person to love me forever. The sad fact is that my ex-husband is chief of police and the domestic violence liaison of the county for which he works and resides in.

I had nowhere to run to and no one would believe me. A few close friends only knew the truth. My own mother did not want me to leave because in her words, I would never have stability in life again. After a horrible fight and then finally coming to terms with the fact that I needed to leave so that my children would still have a mother, I woke up one day and said, “Enough.”

I moved out on March 1, 2013, asking him for some possessions and only allowed to take what little he said I could. The home we had made, never filled with love, but more of memories of my children growing up there would become his and I was never allowed to step foot inside again. I made the choice to leave, but then fighting with myself that I had made the incorrect choice and allowing him to come and go in my life as he pleased for eight more months.

During these eight months and until this very day, he has continued to have control over my life. He dragged me through the courts for 3 ½ years vowing to make sure that people would think everything in our marriage was my fault. He told everyone, including the courts, that I was a drug user, alcoholic and bad parent when it was him who was the alcoholic. His own mother stated to me that, “Maybe I should have been a better wife and mother,” after confronting her about him cheating and putting his hands on me.

He learned of his narcissistic, gas lighting ways from her. The very person who is supposed to teach you the right ways in life taught my ex-husband how to be the most judgmental, disgusting and hurtful person I could ever come across in my lifetime. Because of the abuse that I endured, I did two “stays” in two different mental hospitals for attempting suicide, the first time going in on the night of my 32nd birthday, while I was still married. The second time was after I had left him again after the eight months and when he reiterated to me for the last time, that I would always be nothing.  All I was annoying, obnoxious, worthless and a fat piece of trash.  I just felt I could not do it anymore. All I was showing my sons was that I was weak and never going to be able to fight. After leaving the hospital for the second time and attending the very same Domestic Violence Corporation in which he volunteered for, I realized that I was not alone. 

Then I thought of the two people on this Earth that I would be hurting the most, my sons. I could not bear to leave them here with someone who will never love them as much as I do and only used and continues to use them as pawns to get back at me.

After coming to terms with my heartache and still struggling to find myself after so many years, things are starting to make sense. Slowly, but surely, my life is coming together. I have a purpose to fulfill on this Earth.  I am unsure of what it is, but I know it is out there. Although I am unable to give my sons the materialistic side of things, I do love them with all my heart, and they are the main reason that I chose to stay. They are now 18 and 20 and are only starting to realize why I left their father. Every day is a struggle, but every day that I wake up breathing is a chance to make things better for myself and my boys. However, the thought is always there, but I will continue to fight. I am still afraid to tell my story, but it has made me realize that my words may help someone else. Now I am in the process of writing a book so that I can help others know that they are not alone. Stay tuned because my story is not over yet; it has only begun. There are so many more chapters to write and they are going to be filled with happiness, peace and hope. 

 

P.S.  The clothing I ordered could not have come at a better time. Today, 9/12/2020, would have been my 17-year anniversary and I am usually at my lowest. As I finish writing this, my doorbell rang. I received my hoodies and shirt just now and as soon as I took my package out of my mailbox, I started to cry. What a release!!!! The universe has spoken to me and told me that leaving was the right decision. Your clothing reminds me of why I chose to leave and why I would never allow anyone to treat me badly again.  Also, side note: I would love to win that gorgeous jeep. I have been putting it out to the Universe, but what is meant to be, is meant to be. It is my dream to own a jeep, but the Beautiful Disaster Jeep would be the icing on the cake! Just so people can see that I am a survivor!  I can drive around and whenever someone stopped me about it, I could tell them about the awesome clothing that should be purchased, the touching stories that the people have written and most of all, the Beautiful Founders of Beautiful Disaster who taught me to never be afraid to share my story, to know my worth and show the world what a FUCKING BROKEN AND BEAUTIFUL DISASTER I AM!!!!!!

 

My Links:

FACEBOOK:  https://www.facebook.com/1andonlysammylynne

INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/lioness_love_17/

 

Sincerest thank you to all for making me feel worthy and beautiful again

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Comments

Shelli Eaves February 13 2021

I also am from Washington, Tacoma, Lakewood area. As a child, I lived in Washington with my biological parents, sibling, and my baby brother. Can you tell the only who never hurt me was my brother? And as for my female siblings, after the beatings I took, the emotional, physical, mental, and sexual abuse I endured after hearing that, “if I didn’t get it, they would” to protect and shield her just turned her into a raving lunatic who lies and steals what she wants. I have no ties with her now and never will, as for my spearmint and egg donors, they are both finally dead and though it is a huge relief, I still have days where the trauma haunts my thoughts. They forged me in fire and I am the perfect blade they created. Thought they sought to break me, I refused to submit. Now, to be truthful, it was so awful that there are chucks of time I have no memory of, other than happy times spent in places other than home.

I connect with you because my father was friends with the chief of police, at the time; I’m 50 now. Washington state is one of the hardest states to prove abuse, child, domestic, sexual, anything, and often allows children to go back to abusive parents.

I feel your pain and offer a hug. The fact that you managed to get certifications with even one TBI is amazing. Keep giving back. “You may bend me, but you will never break me”. Has been my motto from childhood.