As I sit down to write about my experience going to trial against the person who tried to take my life, my mind is flooded with myriad emotions. The journey to this point has been fraught with pain, resilience, and unwavering determination. It’s my story of survival of a narcissist, mental fortitude, and the unyielding pursuit of the acknowledgment of my ex’s actions. But it is also a story of grappling with the challenges of living with paralysis, being not only a woman but a black woman and a mother in a world that often misunderstands and undervalues those roles.
The day I was attacked is etched into my memory like a tattoo on a body. The physical pain was excruciating, but the emotional trauma was equally profound. I always tell people that getting injured as a result of gun violence was the easy part. It’s the aftermath that is the hardest. The road to recovery has been long marked by countless moments of despair and frustration. Coping with the sudden onset of paralysis was a formidable challenge, one that was depressing, to be honest. Imagine waking up one day after 28 years and then having your mobility taken away from you by someone else's careless act. But it was the love I have for my children that kept me moving forward one day at a time. Hour by hour and minute by minute.
The thought of reliving the trauma in a courtroom, of facing the person who had sought to rob me of my life was daunting. But I knew that I owed it to not only myself but also my children and those women who don’t have a voice whether because they’re dead or scared to stand up for what the justice system calls justice. As a woman and a mother, I felt a deep responsibility to demonstrate to my children the power of resilience, the importance of fighting for what is right, the value of seeking closer, and displaying God’s grace and mercy.