A Story of Hurt, Violence and Hope


The Beginning                                                 

I met him in the summer of 2011. He was my friend’s brother. He caught my attention right away with his handsome looks. We first hung out as a group with me, him and his sister. It’s safe to say that I fell for him fast and hard. On August 20th we became official and not too long after, I moved into his apartment with him. We were inseparable at the time and continued our daily activities as if we were a ‘married’ couple.

The Warning                                                    

I had heard about his ‘ways’. I personally saw God repeatedly intervene through others. My sister and her friend warned me that he had a temper but I believed in giving chances so I gave him one. My family even rallied and told me to leave, but it was still ‘new’ so I stayed.

The Experience

It started with anger. I would forget what I did but I never forgot the anger. He began by intimidating me verbally through foul language and name calling. But I stayed because I liked him and I felt like he needed me. I felt that I could help him. It rapidly and quickly escalated after my grandmother’s funeral. Three days after I said my final goodbyes to her he got upset at my menstrual symptoms and backhanded me. I was numb. At that point, I was ready to leave him but in my mind I didn’t have anywhere to go. I stayed. For 2 weeks he was sorry and treated me like fine China. We were good, real good at the time until I wouldn’t let him record me performing sexual acts. He made me get up while still naked and stand in the bathroom of his small apartment not allowing me to use the toilet, tub or sink and then he left. About 10 minutes later he came back and accused me of calling the cops/someone, but I didn’t have a phone. I told him this and he continued to accuse me until he threw his keys at my face, chipping my tooth and fattening my lip. Again, his forgiveness lasted for about 2 weeks.

In that time I left but my self-esteem was so low and he made me feel good so I went back. When I got back he seemed a little more agitated and scattered but I looked passed it. We were ‘good’ again, real good again. In no time at all our dysfunctional secret behavior at home began to spill over in the public and gave us the title as the ‘dysfunctional couple.’ We would argue loudly in the streets. One time, he woke me up to drive with him to a contract job hours away because he felt like I was at home cheating and he accused me of sleeping with his friends. The breaking point was when he threw out covers I slept under while still at home with my grandmother because he was upset. They stayed there for days. Afraid of what would happen if I tried to retrieve the blankets that held so much sentimental value to me, I asked him to get them from outside but he wouldn’t. My frustration and anger about the blankets began to build as the days went on so he in turn got upset.

The Final Straw

After days of anger between the two of us, he told me to get up and clean and left the room to take a call. I sat there. He came back into the room with his food and saw that I hadn’t moved. He then raised the bowl he was eating out of to throw at me. For a brief moment he reconsidered, then he reconsidered again. He hit me with the bowl so hard that it broke and lacerated my face in two places and my right wrist. He couldn’t believe it and neither could I. It was in that moment, I realized how bad things had gotten. It was as if God cleared the smoke from my eyes and I could finally see and think clearly.  He told me I was going to get killed if I stayed and I believed him. We went to the hospital and I got stitched up. I told the doctors I got into a fight knowing in my mind that I have never been in a fight in my life. It took ten days for my face lacerations to heal and seven for my wrist. As a last favor to him I stayed until I healed enough. Why? His family would have disowned him if they saw my face. After all that happened, I cared just enough to not let any outsiders see how bad things had gotten. Before the 10 days were up I called my family to be removed from his apartment.

The Aftermath

I joined the Marine Corps in December of 2012. I recently got out with an honorable discharge. I will be moving to Texas next year and going to school for finance and later economics while working. I hope to become a reservist in the Air Force. I accepted Christ in February of this year and was baptized a second time in August. I have God. I have hope and a future.



Holidays are full of joyous times spent with loved ones but this is not the case for all. For some, it can heighten stress, depression, abuse and unwanted visitors. Here is a reminder of the different types of abuse. Know the signs. 20160813_125852000_ios

The Woman behind the Name.

One woman is beat by her husband or partner every 15 seconds in the United States. I was one of those women and I want to tell you’’ My Story’’

When I first began gathering thoughts about how I would tell my story, I started feeling like the victim again instead of the conqueror. Although I’ve left the past behind me, I still revisit it. Moving forward is always a conscience effort because I will always remember….

Maya Angelou once quoted, I learned a long time ago, the wisest thing I can do is to be on my own side, be an advocate for myself and others like me. This quote explicitly describes my purpose which is to help serve others that have been victims of domestic violence and share my story. I hope my testimony reaches the souls of many victims whose identity has been shredded due to violence and abuse. My prayer is that it gives them courage, hope, and determination to stand strong.

It is a fact that children who witness violence at home between their parents display emotional and behavioral disturbances as diverse as withdrawal, low self- esteem, nightmares, self- blame, and aggression against peers, family members, and property. As a child, I witnessed a lot of verbal abuse between my parents. My dad was also physically abusive to my mom. As a result, my emotions were wounded and I became a target for men to do the same to me.

As a young teen, I was a girlfriend of a neighborhood high school drop -out and wanna- be- pimp. Although I grew up in a middle class neighborhood in Chicago, I liked to hang out in the streets with the wrong crowd. My parents didn’t like my boyfriend but they had so many personal issues with one another that they couldn’t get a grip of me. When you’re young it was common for boys to hit girls in a playful way and this occurred in my teen-age relationship but it really got out of hand. I felt that the hitting and punching was a way my boyfriend showed me he cared.

When I went away to college, I called this opportunity a “fresh start.” What I didn’t realize was that the abuse I saw as a child between my parents and the on-going abuse in the relationship with my ex-boyfriend only prepared me for the worse, more abuse.

I met my first husband in college and he was verbally abusive. After building up strength to leave him, I continued the pattern of having relationships with abusive men. All the relationships started out normal, where there was compassion and respect. Then the abuse exploded and it became a never ending story.

Before I reached the age 33, I had experienced two abusive marriages. I tolerated the physical and verbal abuse because I thought my mate would change. I was hit, beat, punched, and called every name imaginable but each time I actually believed it wouldn’t happen again. This cycle continued in a third marriage and other prior relationships. I eventually left and moved on with my life working every day and raising my two daughters. I didn’t leave when the abuse initiated because I was humiliated.  I felt as if I made the wrong choice and my pride kept it a secret until I couldn’t take it anymore.

My self-esteem was destroyed and my depression caused me to turn to drugs as a way to medicate myself thinking the hurt and pain would go away. My drug addiction lasted for 13 years and I lost everything but my job and my life. After seeking help and talking to others, I realized I was not alone. Talking to others gave me a sense of hope because there were so many women like me.

I didn’t realize the statistics of domestic abuse was so high. Generally more than 12 million women and men are abused over the cause of a year. I’m a survivor and I thank God, who is my healer for giving me strength and a chance in life to love Him first and love myself. This life-long change has made me a whole and complete woman again. I have to keep the attitude to never regret anything that has happened in my life. To accept the things I cannot change and thank God for giving me wisdom and understanding. Domestic abuse is never forgotten.



October Jar Challenge

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Help spread awareness by participating in The Rebounds October Jar Challenge.october-jar-challenge-jar

Will you pledge to end violence?

1. Visit a Jar Location – This week, Flavor Restaurant Richton Park and Hazel Crest, IL. Pop’s Italian Beef and Sausage Homewood, IL.
2. Make a donation
3. Take a selfie with the jar
4. Challenge 3 others to participate in the challenge.
#OctoberJarChallenge  #TheReboundFoundation

Hello world!

Welcome to our website! The Rebound Foundation hopes you will be inspired to give back and end violence through donating, volunteering or spreading the word. A little kindness goes a long way.


Thank You

Christina Ford


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