Chapter 1: Cecilia’s Escape - From Broken Vows to Independence

Author: Cecilia (Pseudonym)

Date: April 2025

From the last nerve-wrecking hours in a New Orleans hotel room with him, the image that has vividly remained with me is that of the young policewoman who was waiting for me downstairs when the old, clanky elevator doors opened. She was on her way to my room, after the guest had heard my cries for help and had called for police enforcement.  “Help, my husband is verbally and physically assaulting me”, I panted as soon as I saw her. “I just need my passport, I just want to go”, I pleaded, short of breath. When I hurriedly left the room, I didn’t take any money or credit cards with me and my phone’s battery was running low. It was not in my plans to end my Christmas vacation in the way I did and I was frantically looking for a way to get to the airport and reunite with my brother, who lived in a different state. She looked at me quietly, making sure I was not hurt. Then she turned around and got on the elevator, ready to fetch the passport that my husband was withholding and that prevented me from leaving him. When the elevator doors opened after what seemed like an eternity and she stretched out her hand to return my passport, she not only handed me an identity card - but she also handed me a release form, setting me free from him and his abusive manners. On that cold January morning, I ended a twelve-year relationship that was marked by love but also by control. It was not the first time I thought about leaving him, as it was not the first time he assaulted me. As I got in a taxi and headed to the airport to reunite with my brother, my long recovery journey from this co-dependent, abusive relationship began.

I had hidden from my family the years and years of abuse, certain that I could always fix what was wrong between my husband and me and that sharing with them would only worry them unnecessarily. It was no surprise that my brother and his wife were waiting for me at the airport with a baffled look and many questions. We stopped at a coffee shop on our way to their place, and sitting across from them I finally shared what was a secret to everyone: I was a victim of domestic abuse. It was the first time I said it out loud, but I was hesitant about the validity of that claim. I mean, surely there were women who had it worse, right? Yes, he had slapped me and shoved me, but it wasn’t that bad. I didn’t have bruises or scars. My brother, a paralegal, shook his head firmly and my sister-in-law, a nurse, interrupted me before I could finish my sharing.

“It doesn’t matter if he didn’t leave a bruise… he should NEVER hit you.”

I lowered my head in shame and fumbled with my hands. I was sure she was right but my coping mechanism of minimizing and justifying the abuse kicked in. That is how I had been able to stay with my husband all this time and endure his abuse.

Since I first met who would later become my husband, we engaged in an unhealthy, dysfunctional dynamic. He would criticize my appearance, question my behavior, censor my words, and invalidate my feelings. As a result, I felt very inadequate and anguished when he shamed me so I would apologize for whatever he thought I had done wrong and would try harder to please him. I spent a lot of time in my head, strategizing and figuring out ways to make him happy again, abandoning my own needs and wants. To make things worse, he would have unpredictable mood swings that would leave me shaken. He once dangerously chased me during a road rage episode, after we both left a friend’s wedding. That time, I had to stop at a police station to ask for help. Still, I listened to his accusations the following day and assumed that I had done -again- something wrong to upset him. I forgave him and gave our relationship another chance.

My  recovery was slow, sometimes chaotic. After the incident in New Orleans,  I returned to my host country with a small loan that my brother gave me and I was able to rent a small, windowless room from a lady I had never met but that came recommended. Little by little, I found my grounding.  I made friends who shared my interest in meditation and yoga and who have remained loyal: thanks to my job, I gained the economic stability on my own, which was once what I looked for in my marriage. I began to love myself with my lights and shadows and to take control of my life, demanding more respect and setting better boundaries.

Several years later I took another plane, this time to a much more promising destination. I was no longer running away from anything or anyone but starting a new job in a country with a millenary culture. I did not end up penniless and living under a bridge like my ex-husband would threaten me with, but in the capital of the biggest economic power in Asia - Beijing. I just had to believe in myself and stop listening to those who were bent on my ruin.

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Xiaojie Qin

Psychotherapist and Director of CandleX

I first met Cecilia in 2022 as her therapist in Project A’s group therapy program for women in abusive relationships (A Snapshot of Project A’s Group Therapy | The Therapist’s View). Witnessing the participants’ relief and recovery in that space was deeply moving, and I’ve been honored to continue supporting her one-on-one in the years since. Her journey—marked by resilience, self-discovery, and profound growth—has been nothing short of inspiring. 

This article is the result of our collaborative work to bring her story forward, both as a healing process for her and as a beacon of hope for others who may feel trapped in similar circumstances. Cecilia’s strength, once hidden even to herself, is a testament to the transformative power of care and therapy. If you’re reading this while navigating the shadows of abuse, know this: the light you doubt today can, with time and support, guide you to a life you’ll cherish. 

At CandleX, we believe in the power of storytelling to heal and connect. Through our community writing projects, we amplify the voices of Beijing’s expat members—one honest, courageous story at a time. Cecilia’s story, shared with her explicit consent and edited to protect her privacy, aligns with our mission to foster understanding and empowerment.  

To every reader: may her words remind you that you are not alone, and your strength, too, is waiting to be claimed.