Yes, it Happened but there was still Hope - episode 261
Sometimes we need more belief. Belief in where we’ve been, belief in where we’re going. This is true for Sarah Harbut. Her story is one of victory and one she decided to share with the world because there was always hope and hope was worth pursuing, worth hanging onto. Sarah wrote Less Fear More Fire because she wanted to make sense of what she was feeling and thinking as her family experienced domestic abuse and how they climbed out of it to a happier ending. She is our guest this week for Thinking through My Fingers - a Writers Series.
You can find Sarah at Sarah Harbut Writes.
She has been on UY before in I’m Going to Write a Book and The Power of Words.
I write to make sense of what I’m feeling and thinking.
— Sarah Harbut on why she writes
Less Fear More Fire
Thoughts from Yes it Happened, but there was still Hope, an excerpt of Less Fear More Fire by Sarah Harbut
It’s ironic how life imitates…life. After transitioning to adulthood and breaking up with X, I was doing everything I could to break the cycle of abuse. But that cycle clung to me with vengeance. As hard as I tried, I could not break free from it. Real life can often feel like a never-ending nightmare.
That morning years ago, I slept in my home, caught in a peaceful dream. An obnoxious ringing phone reminded me that abuse was closer than I realized. The sun was shining through my windows as darkness infiltrated my home. This person from my past came barreling back into my life, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and assumed I would be the doll they threw around to express their anger.
I woke up in the morning thinking I was safe in my home. Then, fists pounded on my door, reminding me that the cycle knew where I lived. I screamed at an offensive curse and told it to leave me alone so I could go on with my life. The cycle ignored me, claimed not to hear me, and blatantly denied the power of my voice. My car keys and wallet were stolen as I desperately sought help, leaving me depleted of vital resources.
A door was kicked in, and I had to fight for my life. I felt scared and helpless, and I thought death was imminent. But then I found freedom, safety, and help. People in the right place at the right time saved my life. The cycle was disrupted and finally ended. After years of terror and oppression, I now had support and resources, and courage that I didn’t realize I possessed.
In nightmares, a person tries to scream, but they have no voice to project. Somewhere inside me lived a child that had been silently screaming for years. One day, she found her voice and was never quiet again.
I start in a journal, pen to paper, and fill it up. Then I go to the computer.
Sarah Harbut on how she writes
