Facing Fear: A Survivor's Breakthrough Poem

CONTENT WARNING: Physical abuse

This poem was written by Thrive co-founder Lindsey Ross during our weekly Writing Reconnection group.

I pride myself on not being scared of anything.

He would kneel on me until I could hear my collar bones and ribs snap under him. Sinking deeper. Forcing my body hard into the ground beneath. My body I no longer owned. The body I stopped owning years ago.

He would hold my head still while he would yell into my “Stupid Broken Ears.”

I pride myself on not being scared of anything.

He would leave me in stores when I took too long looking at tangible things that brought me little sparks of joy. He would drive away no matter where we were. 

I got great at walking.

I pride myself on not being scared of anything.

He would drag me across our spotless, perfect home. Not home. Cage of nightmares. By my perfect, long dark hair.

He would put bags over my head just to see me struggle. Sometimes they would smell like the stores he’d leave me at that bring me little sparks of joy. 

I pride myself on not being scared of anything.

I pride myself on not being scared of anything.

I pride myself on not being scared of anything.

I’m not scared of anything.

I’m not scared.

I won’t be scared of anything.

—Lindsey