From domestic violence to entrepreneurial success, this is my story.

How jewelry helped me overcome and heal from abuse — and find my own empowerment again. 

In the tapestry of life, every thread tells a story. Some are woven with joy and triumph and others are stained with pain and struggle.

My journey—like yours, no doubt—is a blend of both. Yet here we are! I think that’s a huge testament to the resilience of the human spirit. 

There was a time when I couldn’t see this perspective, though. From the dark and dreadful shadows of domestic violence, I emerged not only as a survivor and an advocate for victims of violence but a thriving entrepreneur of a jewelry company that aims to inspire empowerment and hope. 

Chapter 1: The meeting

My relationship with my ex-fiancé began innocently. Like any new relationship, it was full of love, joy, butterflies… But somewhere along the way, it became a nightmare of domestic violence — full of emotional, physical, and financial abuse.

The person I came to trust the most quickly became my greatest source of fear and pain.

So how did I even end up here?

At the time, I was quietly struggling with major insecurities. I was 20 years old and my abuser was 10 years my senior in a very prestigious career. He was well-respected by his colleagues and his social circle. We met through a family connection, and I gravitated toward him because I felt like he saw me and accepted me, despite all my insecurities. 

He made me feel like he could be my safe place.

Soon after we started dating, the games started. He told me I would never get someone else as good as him. We would break up, but it was hard for me to move on, so we would get back together — and the cycle would rinse and repeat. 

Over time, the verbal and psychological abuse became normal to me. I didn’t know any other way.

We got engaged when I turned 30 years old, and a power struggle began to take shape. I matured and he didn’t like that I was becoming my own woman. 

So he resorted to more drastic measures to keep the control: physical abuse. 

Chapter 2: My darkest hours

This period of the relationship lasted about 5 years straight, and as time went on, the abuse got worse. It felt like the more I built up strength and courage, the more he would break me down. I was becoming numb to it all.

During this time, I also didn’t have anyone to talk to. When I tried to talk to someone, the conversation always ended with, “Why do you stay if this person treats you so badly?”

I couldn’t answer that question. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. 

This fight with reality just goes to show how fascinating the brain can be. It was skewing my perception of what was really happening to me. 

I remember fighting to stay away from the edge of our apartment balcony as my ex tried to force me over the railing. Thankfully, a friend was able to intervene and de-escalate the situation, saving my life. But in my mind, I would simultaneously think, “Did he just do that to me?” and, “I’m overreacting. I know he loves me.”

He was a medical professional, so of course he didn’t try to hurt me. …Right? 

Domestic violence is debilitating because it’s an attack on the whole person. The mind is the key, though, so it typically starts there.

Then, financial constriction and isolation. Finally, physical abuse and the destruction of your soul and any string of hope. 

It’s on the brink of this junction that a decision has to be made. Do I actually love this person to death? Even if it means my own death? Or do I leave and learn how to live again?

Please understand me when I say this: This is the hardest decision to make. To someone who hasn’t experienced domestic violence, it sounds like a no-brainer. But remember, victims of domestic violence have had their brains rewired.

Their neural pathways have literally changed — and you’re left with no balance between the rational and emotional brain. 

Every day was a battle for survival. The free-spirited woman I once was disappeared, whittled down to an object that my ex owned. 

Research shows it takes about 7 tries for a victim to leave their abuser. It took me 10.

I filed police reports. But I would withdraw my statements to the police, thinking it would look bad on his work record. I believed he loved me, so I didn’t want to put him in that situation. 

I stayed with friends I trusted. But I had no money because of financial abuse, so I developed a lot of separation anxiety. My friends generously helped me, but he would convince me things would be different. 

I just didn’t realize “different” meant worse.

The physical abuse escalated from bumps and bruises to needing to go to the emergency room for wounds and a ruptured eardrum.

The strikes to my head could’ve been deadly, but even as I was lying in the ER, my abuser sent me messages, asking me what happened, if I was OK, and that he wanted to be by my side.

Despite what he did to me, I still protected him.

I told him to not come, the police are here at the hospital with me, and they will arrest you. (Of course, that’s what should’ve happened.)

The police wanted me to give a statement, but I was overwhelmed. 

In these situations, the victim psychologically takes on the role of the mother figure and shows unconditional love and protection to their abuser — just like I did — even when the abuser doesn’t give love or protection back.

In the psyche of the abused, nothing makes sense. And the cycle keeps repeating. 

Chapter 3: The turning point

While I was in the emergency room, I finally realized I deserved better.

I deserved to be free from the chains of abuse and to live a life filled with love and respect. I just didn’t know how to do that. 

My family didn’t know that any of this was going on, even though they suspected something was wrong.

Out of some miracle from God, though, my dad called me. He asked me what happened because he received a bill from the ER. This opened the door for me to finally be honest. 

I told him most of the truth: That my ex lashed out at me even though I didn’t do anything wrong. That he threw me on the ground and punched my head several times, close to my ear. That I had to call 911 so they could escort me to the ER. That when I was at the ER, the doctor told me if I had gotten hit just another inch from where I was struck, I would be brain dead. That the doctor had to release the blood so I wouldn’t develop cauliflower ear, which would leave me with permanent hearing loss. 

After hearing this, he simply asked, “Don’t you think you need to get out? Come back home. There’s nothing wrong with coming back home. Come back so your mother and I can love you.”

That started a month-long process of me staying with my friends and living out of my car before I fully committed to leaving the city and that relationship. 

It took that long because I knew there was no going back after I committed. That meant everything from the past 15 years was over. I had put so much time, energy, and love into this man, who I had dreamed of marrying and starting a family with. 

Chapter 4: My path to healing

The support of my friends, family, and dedicated professionals became my lifeline.

They firmly believed in my strength, and they helped me break free from the toxic relationship that imprisoned me for so long.

Just like how abuse isn’t an overnight process, healing isn’t an overnight process. It’s a painful journey of rediscovery and rebuilding.

Searching for the right therapist who could help and not just medicate me was really discouraging at times. I almost gave up after experiencing one victim-blaming therapist and prescription-writing doctor after another, until I finally found a psychologist who became instrumental in my recovery.

Therapy became a safe place for me to confront my trauma. It was a grueling process of taking one step forward and ten steps back. But it was worth it.

Each step was a victory. It was a testament to my spirit and fortitude to reclaim my identity, voice, and life.

After moving home, though, I got into a car crash that nearly ended my life — and triggered the release of my C-PTSD.

It took me nearly 6 years to get back on my feet, to where I could hold a job and feel normal again. 

Chapter 5: Finding my own confidence

Art became my escape during my healing journey. It gave me confidence, and I realized this could be my career. So I fully embraced this passion, without knowing that this would actually change the trajectory of my life. 

Chapter 6: The birth of my jewelry company

I started working for a friend of a friend who offered me a job working at an art gallery. It was the most healing experience for me.

For the first time in a really long time, I was around people who actually loved me. People who would hug me and make me realize that I love hugs!

It showed me that being around creative souls is my home. 

Somewhere around this time, I saw a beautiful bracelet that I loved but I wanted to put my own twist on it. I had never been interested in making jewelry, but I think it was a sign from God.

Within a month, I figured out how to create my own cuff — and my own business, Redd Dott Jewelry.

I started to specialize in creating cuffs adorned with words of affirmation, intentions, and motivators. In sharing my creations with others, I recognized the profound impact these pieces could have.

They became more than jewelry — they became symbols of power and reminders that we all possess the strength to overcome adversity. I wanted each cuff to work as a therapy tool for the person wearing it. 

During the darkest times with my abuser, I would grip my wrist, which would help ground me. It’s something I do when my C-PTSD is triggered. Sensory healing has been a huge part of the journey back to who I am. 

I don’t think I’m alone in having my own comforting coping mechanism. That’s why I take such great care in choosing textiles for my cuffs and using the vintage textiles that I do — because they have a way of grounding the wearer with just a touch of the fabric.

Chapter 7: Building a brand of hope

My jewelry company grew because people resonated with my mission to inspire and uplift. 

Today, each cuff is still meticulously crafted bearing words that resonate with the wearer. I firmly believe in the idea that what you tell yourself becomes your truth. 

Strength.

Hope. 

Resilience.

These aren’t just empty words.

These are affirmations and representations of the human spirit’s capability to ensure, conquer, and prosper. It’s why I choose to stamp words of affirmation and intentions inside each cuff.

Chapter 8: The era of empowering others

I struggled to find others who experienced the same thing I did for the longest time — people who had overcome abuse and C-PTSD and became leaders who could talk about their situation.

My therapist would tell me that I could overcome and become successful, but I didn’t see how that was possible, especially since I didn’t have any examples. 

Through my jewelry, I found a way to connect with and lead others who have faced similar struggles. My company has become my platform for sharing my personal story of survival and resilience in the face of C-PTSD.

It’s a way for me to show that there is a way to overcome what has tried to destroy you.

That’s my mission statement — helping others overcome their traumas.  

I’m also involved in workshops, community events, and community-based non-profits, which has allowed my cuffs to become symbols of unity for more people than I could’ve ever imagined. My cuffs are worn by people who have overcome their own battles and emerged stronger because of it. 

I strive to build people up so they can help bring that positive energy to the next person in need of encouragement and hope.

The story’s not over

Today, my jewelry company is a sign of realized intentions. It’s a testament to the human spirit’s power to transform pain into purpose.

Each cuff carries a piece of my journey:

→ The fabric represents sensory soothing

→ The brass symbolizes strength

→ The word or phrase stamped in your cuff is your reminder that we all have the power to rise above our circumstances and create a life filled with meaning and joy

Looking toward the future, I’m filled with gratitude for the path that has led me to where I am today. And I’m excited for the many lives that will be connected by my creations. 

My story isn’t just about surviving domestic violence — it’s about flourishing in the aftermath. 

It’s a story of bravery, strength, and the importance of community. Through my jewelry, I’ve found a way to give back, inspire, and empower others. 

Though our stories have similarities, our response to trauma is individualistic. But in the end, we can all overcome the worst the world has to offer and become better people because of it.

Each cuff is a testament to the power that lies within us all — a reminder that no matter the darkness we face, you’re not alone and there is a beautiful tomorrow in your future.