I felt like a battered woman. And I realized I wasn't okay with that.

It’s been a while y’all and well, I have a few, not-so-good excuses to give.

1.     Grad school is intense!

2.     Add nursing school to it and it’s almost impossible. By almost, I mean it is but I’m getting by so I suppose at some level it’s possible.

3.     I found myself in a whirlwind of relationships and emotions concerning those guys and Danny. Trust me when I say dating after the man you promised forever dies is no joke. It’s hard, it’s frustrating, and it is a million billion times more emotional and stressful than a normal relationship.

4.     I fell in love …and kind of went crazy!

5.     All hell broke loose.

So please, choose an excuse or combination of them that make you hate me the least. Forgive me. And let’s get back to the matter at hand.

Just after the first of the year, I met someone who completely swept me off my feet. As we started talking more and more, I began to think how charismatic and charming this person is. I couldn’t get enough. I just couldn’t. I wanted to talk to him every single minute of every single day. I sound crazy, right? Well, that’s exactly how I felt. The more “swept away” I felt, the more I began to think that what Danny and I had wasn’t real! How super insane is that? That man is my absolute world! And he remains that…20 MONTHS after his death! But there I was thinking that my love for him wasn’t true because I didn’t feel the same.

Corey and I immediately started dating. Forget the friend zone; forget getting to know one another. We jumped headfirst into the lake. Sink or swim time! For a while we swam but again, something felt off. Remember, I just thought this was what real love felt like. Boy, oh boy! I have never been so wrong in my life!

After we had been dating just a couple months, I learned some things. Things that I didn’t necessarily like and things that I didn’t necessarily agree with and things that I definitely didn’t think were appropriate. I won’t completely call the boy out, but a few minor examples include his temper, his controlling nature, and his need to demean every other person around him (and that list included me). Up to this point, he’d never hit me. He never technically forced me to do anything. But I had felt coerced into doing things he wanted, when he wanted them.

I also begin to learn that we wanted completely different things. Like. I wanted to move to Atlanta and work there; he wanted to stay where he was. I wanted a large family and kids were mandatory; he wanted things to be mostly the two of us and just maybe one kid. I want to have fancy dinner parties and stay in contact with my family and friends; he wanted things to be mostly the two of us. The more differences I learned, the more I wanted out. The more I knew things weren’t going to work out. He assured me over and over than they would and that we’d compromise. After all, if we loved each other we could make it work, right?

Eventually, I walked away thinking I deserved better. While I knew I did, something brought me back. Maybe it was his charm or the promises I believed he’d keep. Whatever it was, I stuck around.

Things were better. He tried really hard to be the person I wanted him to be … for about a month.

Then. I got sick. He cheated …again. And we’re back to where we were the first time I left. He charmed me back and as much as I tried to deny it, I wanted to be with him and I didn’t care what he did.

I lied. For the first time in my whole life, I lied!

            “He’s a good person.”

            “He loves me! I can’t walk away from someone who loves me.”

            “I promised him. I have to follow through on my word.”

            “I really don’t want to be with him.”

            “I’m not going back.”

            “He cheated. That’s it.”

            “I’m serious this time.”

After everything he’d done, I still found myself a few weeks later sitting on his couch and lying in his bed. This is when all hell broke loose. And we sank. FAST!

I’m a firm believer in telling your partner everything …even if it’s going hurt. I believe that in order to truly love one another, you have to be completely honest and allow the person you love to make his/her own decisions.

We’re lying there and my phone rings. It’s a text message from another guy. This man is seriously one of my best friends and we spend a lot of time together. Corey asked who the text was from and I told him. 

Corey gets mad. He screams. He yells. And as much as I tried to tell him how I felt and explain that he’s obviously the person I chose, he ignores me. He tells me to get off of him and to leave his house.

That’s what he wants? That’s what he’s going to get.

I packed up my things and started toward the door.

He runs from the back of the house. As I open the door, he slams it closed and proceeds to bang on the door. He turns around, shoves me into the couch and starts to scream at me.

I was terrified. The look in his eyes was piercing and rage was shooting from them.

Finally, he walks away telling me that I should just leave. Per commands, I leave. And by leave, I mean I got the hell out of there!

If this were the end, maybe I’d have gone back, maybe I would have justified his anger, and maybe I’d be the girl that got trapped in this vicious cycle.

Unfortunately, the night didn’t end here.

I got to my car. He runs up behind me. He grabs me around the waist. He drags me back into his house. It’s probably only 30-40 feet to his door and the whole time I’m kicking and screaming and trying to get loose. The whole time, he’s quiet. He grips me harder. His nails dig into my skin. I can hear him grunting.

We get to his door and he shoves me inside, closes the door, and locks it. The rage and anger that were in his eyes before has quadrupled. In that moment, I didn’t think I would make it out alive!

He yells. He screams. He points his finger. He gets in my face. He pushes me. He walks away and tells me to leave again. As I walk out the door, he throws a picture frame with the two of us inside. Glass shatters.

I get to my car and I see his shadow coming toward me.

Would a normal person run? Would a normal person scream? Looking back, all those options were there. But I didn’t. I crouched down as he threw himself on me.

He backed a few inches and I was able to unlock my car, which set the alarm off. With the alarm beeping, he let me enter the car and crank it (the only way to get the alarm to stop). I closed the door immediately and left before he could hit my car or break my windows.

I got out. I don’t know how, but I did.

He preceded to BLOW UP my phone. He called over and over, until I blocked his number. He messaged me on Facebook, until I blocked him. He stalked my Instagram, until I blocked him. He messaged me on Kik, until I just deleted the app.

Two days after the incident, he hadn’t stopped. He figured out a way to call on a “no known caller” ID, so his blocked number is irrelevant. By Friday morning, he had called over 100 times. He then sent me a message saying he was coming to my apartment. I left, obviously. And then he sent messages saying he wasn’t leaving until I got home. He did eventually leave …BEFORE I got home.

I spent the rest of the week and the entire weekend looking over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t there. I felt like a battered woman. And I realized I wasn’t okay with that.

A man should never make a woman feel this way. He should never make her fear her life or be scared to live in her own home. I’m grateful to be out. I’m grateful that things weren’t worse than they were, because I’m well aware of how much worse it could have been. I only suffered some bruised ribs, a bruised ego, and nail marks, but we've all heard the stories about how these things usually turn out.

I thank God everyday for watching over me that night and protecting me in ways that no one else could have. After all, he’s the only person that knew I was there. 

I always thought it was strange that I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without letting my parents (or someone) knowing where I was going. Now, I understand.

I always thought it was silly to tell everybody your business. Now, I understand.

Operation Graduation Celebration !! (:

GRADUATION DAY !! (:

The day is finally here. Today, I graduate from the University of Georgia. Today, I start my life as a UGA alumna. Today, the next chapter begins.

I stand before you all today, as a University of Georgia graduate and a completely different person than the one who walked into Brumby Hall in August 2009. I have transformed into someone who goes after what she wants instead of idly letting life happen to her. Tonight, I'll stand in Sanford Stadium along with my fellow peers with no regrets. The stress, the heartbreak, the struggles - these shaped my life and I'm a better person today because of them. My time at UGA has come to an end, but the memories I've made here will stay with my forever; the friends, the roommates, the exams, the parties, the sleep-deprivation - none is less important than the other.The last four years have been a testament to the strength I never knew I had and the courage and determination to follow through. I've learned that in order for big things to happen, you first have to endure all the crap life throws at you - and trust me, just when you think life has ran out of tricks, it throws one hell of a curve ball!

As I go into graduation, there is one very special young man who will not be joining me. This man is the reason I've finished school and the driving factor for making all my dreams come true. He was always that shoulder I needed to cry on, the ear I needed to listen to my problems, the voice I needed to calm me down, the hand I needed to hold and the push to accomplish great things. He promised me that he would be here tonight and it breaks my heart that he is physically unable to fulfill this promise. After all, he's the reason I'm graduating tonight. While all of you may not see him, I have no doubt that he will be standing right beside me.

"Baby, know you'll never be alone. I'll always be with you - forever and for always. This I promise you. Live your life, follow your dreams, and know that if you ever fall, I'll be right there to catch you. Don't sweat the small stuff and don't let fear own you. Live. Love. Take on the world. I'm right beside you. This isn't the end. This isn't good-bye. This is just another 'see you later' at the airport, just another 'I'll talk to you soon', just another 'I'll write when I can'"

-Victoria-

In Loving Memory (Easter Care Package)

A few months ago, I let it be known that I felt my duty to Danny and to honor his memory was to adopt a soldier - to continue his fight, to support the troops (the troops that do the exact same thing Danny did, in the exact same place Danny was) in the only way I can. Click here for a bit more details.

This was the first package I tried to get together to send. The emotional toil of this hit me a lot harder than I expected. I was buying stuff and decorating this box for someone who wasn't Danny - someone I didn't know and someone who wasn't my fiance. I know this is what Danny would've wanted. We've had lots of conversations about adopting military men and women once we got married and once we started to have kids. It would be this consistency in our hectic army life. We knew that if he stayed in the army, he would eventually be deployed and we hoped that by having always sent packages to someone, our children would find comfort in this. But, I guess that dream is long gone now.

Anyways, I've found trying to shop for a soldier you don't know is really difficult. Does he like this or that?! Would he prefer this or that?! Many questions flood your mind about what to get, etc. I did my best. I'm sure this soldier will appreciate it and I know Danny would be proud.

Until Next Time - stay safe, stay strong, keep your head up and keep pressing on

-V-

American Widow Project - I guess this is real life.

This past weekend started like any normal Saturday. I slept in. I laid around in my bed. I tried to forget that the past few months actually existed. My roommate and I laid around the apartment watching movies - to say it was a lazy Saturday would be an understatement. That is until I checked the mail. In the mailbox, I found a package from the American Widow Project. I had never heard of them before and was a bit skeptical of how they got my information. Danny was super private, as am I, and his service in general was, for the most part, under lock and key. He served this country with the humblest attitude I've ever witnessed. He never wanted recognition for his service nor wanted benefits that came from his service - not until we were in a place where we needed them. He never took military discounts or anything because he always said we didn't need those right now; he'd always say that we shouldn't take advantage of these options because one day we'll need them and they might not be there. He was so selfless. I think that's one of the things about him that made him such a great soldier.

This package contained a documentary of six young military widows much like myself. We're all in our early 20s, some married and some engaged, some with children and some without, but none-the-less we all have been given this title of a military widow. Their stories were so relatable and I found pieces of my stories in each of theirs. Danny and I wanted children - lots of children, but I guess it wasn't in the cards. He was my best friend and although we weren't married doesn't take away from the fact that he was the love of my life. I find myself irrational and frustrated and angry at everything. Its not that I'm actually angry, I'm just frustrated at the world for taking him away from me so soon and frustrated at the fact that my life isn't going to turn out the way I wanted; the way we wanted. I'm never going to be that carefree girl that was always happy. I may be happy again one day, but I'll never be as happy as I was or as happy as I could be. There's a sadness in my eyes that I cannot seem to shake.

The package also contained a "military widow" logo pin. This pin will always be with me. Without saying a word, it shouts my status as a military widow. I, like many others, never asked for this title of a military widow - yet its the label I've been given. Its a label I'd like to forget that explains a love too strong for Earth. A title that explains the heartache I've endured and the pain I'm continually faced with day in and day out. This pin shouts that I am proud of my fiance - his service, his sacrifice, his life. I never claim he was a perfect man, but he was perfect for me. This pin tells of my strength and of his heroism - without having to say a word. Which, for all though that know me, is something I'm grateful for. I love talking about him, about us, about his service even. However, once the conversation turns to the attack, I break!

I'm extremely grateful to the American Widow Project for their generous gift during this difficult time in my life. If you're interested, please go here for more information. From what I've gathered, there are many ways to get involved if you are, like me, a military widow. I'm not really sure all the different outlets you can get involved in, but when I find out, y'all will know. Also, if your not a military widow and would like to help other military widows, there are those options as well. Check them out! Please. Please. Please. This organization sounds amazing and I wonder why I'm just now learning about it.

Until Next Time - stay safe, stay strong, keep your head up and keep pressing on

-V-

Christmas Without You - Take One

Christmastime. Its defined by many as the most magical time of the year. I too believed in the magical power of this time of year - the time when its cold and the best place in the world is next to the fireplace, the time when people cared more about others than themselves, the time when things just seemed to go your way, the time when everything was just perfect! I was all set this year to go about Christmas this year with my family and in constant prayer for my deployed soldier. However, this year I suppose things'll go a little bit differently. Who am I trying to fool?! Things are going to be completely different. This is the first Christmas that I'll be "widowed" and the first Christmas where I'll have to sit among my entire family and know that the one person I love more than anything in this world will not call me - cannot call me, there is absolutely no chance. Christmas during a deployment is tough, but it's manageable. Even if he can't call on Christmas day, you might be able to hear from him the day before, the day after, a week or two after - but you always have that hope that he'll call, he'll email. The point is, even during a deployment, we, as military spouses, hold onto hope and that hope is what gets us through the darkest days. But what happens when all hope is gone, shattered like an ornament falling from the top of the tree?! Well, I suppose you get a Christmas and a Christmas spirit similar to mine.

Christmas will never, ever be the same. It will never have that same magic and every year I'll be reminded of what my life should have been like - my handsome husband, children, the huge tree, presents, breakfast Christmas morning, everything! Now of course, I can still have the tree and the decorations and the presents, but I'm never going to be able to wake up to Danny on Christmas morning, I'm never going to see our kids open presents Christmas morning.

This year, however, I did decorate this little place I call home. But for the record, for that lovely guardian angel I have watching over me, I only did this for you! If I had it my way, December 25, 2012 and all the other December 25ths in the future would be just another day - just another day with you! But I made a promise and I don't break promises! I promised him "to continue to live, even when your gone". Now, I made this promise thinking I'd struggle to live day to day without him by my side until this deployment was over, until we were married. This promise takes a whole new meaning today though. This one promise is the sole reason I get out of bed everyday and lets be honest, probably the reason I haven't attempted to take my own life (because between me and all of you, I've thought about it!).

So in honor and in loving memory of my guardian angel, Merry Christmas! This Christmas I ask all of you to take a few moments and remember all the fallen heros and those service members who are not able to be with their families for the holidays. Freedom isn't free and this Christmas we should all be thankful for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice.

Until Next Time - stay safe, stay strong, keep your head up and keep pressing on

-V-

Gloomy, Gloomsville - Population One

The past couple weeks, well ever since I heard about the attack, my whole entire life has been turned completely upside down. Like literally, it a battle everyday to even get out of bed. I feel like there is a huge hole in my chest where my heart should be. That heart that I once had, the heart of hope and faith and trust and love is no longer there. It was ripped out the moment Danny died. And it hurts - like a physical pain. I've had bad relationships before and I've endured my fair share of break ups, but this is different. We didn't break-up. We didn't drift apart or even grow apart. We wanted to be together. We planned our lives together. We were meant and destined to be together. He was taken from me way to soon! We weren't even given the chance to fail. I feel even if we'd broken up later down the road, or even now, it wouldn't hurt this bad. Now, I feel I've been cheated the chance at a family, at a marriage. I feel like my whole world has been ripped away from me. I don't know how to live anymore. I merely run on auto-pilot day in and day out. I don't feel anything anymore. I don't want to be around anyone anymore. Its almost like if I stop living then he'll come back and none of this will have ever happened. I almost feel that if I stop moving forward then it'll be like nothing has changed - he's still deployed and will be home..eventually. I know how crazy this must all sound and some of you are probably already dialing the nearest psychiatric hospital to put me in, but its honestly how I feel. Its hard getting up every morning, going to school, going to church...living...knowing that everything is completely different now. It's hard going on about my life knowing that I don't have much of a life anymore or any one to share that life with anymore. I've said it before, but I'll say it again, its not fair.

I feel sad - all the time. Its like I don't know how to be happy anymore. I catch myself laughing or smiling at something someone has said or done, but that temporary feeling and action fades within a few seconds and I'm right back to my constant emotions - sadness, depression, grief, heart ache. Even the world seems to feel this way! Since Danny passed, the weather around this apartment has been extremely moody and gloomtastic. There has been this constant over-shadow sky, rain, wind, etc. Its as if God is sad too; as if He is mourning the loss of another soul taken too soon, cheated out of a future as such a young age. So maybe, Gloomy, Gloomsville has a population of two!

and now it's my turn

It has been a hard week to say the least. Between grieving, finals, and roommate drama, the fact I'm still alive and/or not in jail is nothing shy of a miracle. Seriously though. I'm usually not the type of person that wallows in self pity or allows emotions to completely overwhelm me. This week, however, I was completely consumed - with sadness, with anger, with frustration. I'm fortunate in the sense that I have many friends, both military and non, that are concerned with my overall well-being and have frequently checked in on me. It seems to be the general consensus that I'm allowed to feel this way, I'm entitled to have these emotions, and it's okay to have these feelings consume me in this moment of my life. But this isn't me. Without Danny here, I feel lost. I feel like I have no reason to live, no reason to finish school, no reason to go on.

However, throughout these conversations, I've also heard the line "you have to live for the both of you now" and "in everything you do, honor him, make him proud, don't let his sacrifice be wasted". And since I've practically lived in my bed this week, I've had lots of time to think about this, what this means, and what I can do. I've come to the conclusion that the best way to honor his memory is to continue his fight, his duty. But how do I do that?! I'm not a soldier. I do not have the passion it takes to even become a soldier. That was always his passion. Through my love for him and my love for this country, I have developed a passion for supporting our troops. During both of Danny's deployments and while he was "home", I loved sending morale to him, his best friends, and the rest of his troop. It was my thing.

So now, I'm an official volunteer doing whatever is needed to help military members stay strong and come back to their families. A lot of my friends have begun volunteering through Homefront Hugs and Soldiers' Angels, so I figured I'd give it a whirl. I've got to keep going and I've got to stay strong. Danny dedicated his whole life to this fight - now it's my turn!