In our lives there are events that pass us right by, and there are events that define us. I have always thought that I am the only one that can define who I am. I would not allow others to dictate who I was or who I was to become. Then it happened. It was slow. It happend over a few months. But when it occured, I was never to be the same person again. The father of my 2nd son (my life is a little bit of a Maury episode, but we can talk about that later) hit me. Hard. Alot. I didnt leave. I didnt call the police. I didnt tell anyone. And then he hit me again. And again. And again. For almost two years I became his personal punching bag. Everyday I swore I would leave. Everyday I swore I would call the police. Everyday I stayed. Everyday I endured. Everyday I prayed to the God that I hadnt spoken to in years. Everyday I apologized to my 10 month old son and to the life that was growing inside of me. Yes, I was pregnant with the devils baby. I was scared, I was angry, I was confused, How could I, a strong, independent woman be in this situation? How could I get in so deep, that I didnt even know how to get out? And then it happened. That event that changed my life. That one “aha moment” that made it all clear. Juicy Juice. The argument was about Juicy Juice, and that one moment has changed me forever. It was at that moment that I realized, it wasnt me. The only way it could get better was for me to leave. He felt that change and the next six months were scary and dangerous. But I survived. I am a survivor. My children are survivors. We are safe for now. He cant reach us. Today. Next week. Hopefully not next year. And every so often I take a sip of my kids Juicy Juice and say a quiet thank you. Thank you Juicy Juice, you saved my life.