Candle In A Dark Room

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Candle In A Dark Room Survivor Led Trauma Recovery Coaching, Wellness, & Podcast

10/15/2026

Dear little Desi,

I hope you’re proud of me. I hope when you look at who we’ve become, you see a woman who never stopped fighting, even when life gave her a million reasons to give up.

I wish I could tell you that life gets easier in every way. That one day, the hurt disappears and the things you went through stop finding their way back to you. But the truth is, some battles follow us longer than we ever imagined.

Right now, I’m fighting one of the biggest battles of my life. There are days when I question my strength. Days when I wonder how much more I can possibly carry. Days when the weight of everything feels heavier than I know how to explain.

But then I remember you.

I remember the little girl who survived things she never should have had to survive. The little girl who kept going when she had every reason to believe things would never get better. And I remind myself that if you could survive what you did, we can get through this, too.

I have to keep fighting. For you. For the woman I am today. For my children, who deserve to see their mom keep choosing herself, even on the hardest days. For my family and friends who stand beside me when I struggle to stand on my own.

They remind me that I’m not alone in this fight, even when it feels like the weight of the world is sitting on my shoulders.

And when I feel weak, I try to remember that strength doesn’t mean never breaking down. It means finding a way to keep going, even when you have to put yourself back together a thousand times.

Sometimes I wish I could go back and hold you. Tell you that none of it was your fault. Tell you that you deserved so much better. Tell you that one day, you’d become a woman who would fight like hell to protect the little girl she used to be.

I hope you know how hard I’m trying. I hope you’re proud of me, even on the days I’m not proud of myself.

Because when I forget how strong I am, I swear I can still feel you inside me, reminding me that we’ve survived worse. That we’re still here. That we’re not giving up now.

You got us this far, little Desi. I promise I’ll keep fighting for us. 🤍

10/13/2026

This morning, I got a call saying I have to write my victim impact statement ASAP for John’s release hearing next month. Just like that, my body went into panic mode. My stomach is in knots. I’m lying in bed shaking, trying to find the strength to do this.

I’ve been told to include details, which means reliving some of the worst moments of my life.

But this isn’t just about my childhood anymore or about the little girl who deserved protection. It’s also about what happened as an adult. It’s about the information the FBI shared with me in 2019, including information indicating he had been stalking me, had hundreds of pictures of me, including altered images of me on CSAM, & evidence indicating he was working toward abducting me.

My fear isn’t just rooted in childhood. I’ve had reasons to be afraid as an adult, too.

Now, I’m facing another release hearing, having to explain why I’m still afraid & why my safety matters.

People say time heals, but my body still remembers. I HATE that I have to do this AGAIN while trying so hard to heal.

Honestly, part of me keeps asking, WHAT IS THE POINT? What if I pour my heart into this statement, relive the trauma, explain my fear, & he gets released anyway? Will my words even matter?

If he walks free, I’m still the one who has to figure out how to protect myself. I’m still the one living with the fear & uncertainty.

I’m so grateful for the incredible people supporting me, but support doesn’t take away the weight of what I’m being forced to revisit.

I HATE him. I hate that he still has this kind of impact on my life. I hate that I’m still fighting for my safety, my peace, & my right to live without fear. I shouldn’t have to keep proving that what happened to me matters.

I’m scared, angry, overwhelmed & exhausted. But I’m going to do it.

For the little girl who didn’t deserve any of it. For the woman I am today who deserves to feel safe. For my children, who deserve a future where their mom doesn’t have to live in fear, & for every part of me that has fought so hard to survive.

I just wish fighting for my safety didn’t require me to keep reliving the things that made me afraid in the first place.

LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS 🌙I don’t know how to explain this feeling.It isn’t just anxiety. It’s the weight of everything I can...
10/07/2026

LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS 🌙

I don’t know how to explain this feeling.

It isn’t just anxiety. It’s the weight of everything I can’t control sitting on my chest like it has nowhere else to go.

My mind keeps running through every possibility, every conversation, every phone call, every “what if” I wish I could stop thinking about.

I keep telling myself to breathe.

But how do you breathe when your body thinks something terrible is always about to happen?

I’m locked up here inside this hell, inside my head of concrete hell (I felt that lyric in this song)

And I can’t find the door.

I’m exhausted from fighting thoughts that don’t even belong to the version of me standing here today.

My brain keeps dragging me backward while my heart is begging me to stay in the present.

I want to feel safe. I want to believe that the worst thing isn’t always waiting around the corner.

But right now my nervous system doesn’t understand the difference between what is happening and what might happen.

So I sit here trying to convince my body that we are still here.

That I am still here.

That I have survived every version of fear that came before this one.

And I think that’s what hurts the most. Knowing I have survived so much and still feeling this damn afraid.

I hate that fear can make the future feel like a threat.

I hate that my mind can turn silence into warning signs and uncertainty into catastrophe.

I hate feeling like I should be stronger than this.

Because I am strong.

I know I am.

But tonight I don’t feel strong.

Tonight I feel tired.

I feel scared.

I feel trapped inside thoughts that keep getting louder the harder I try to silence them.

But tonight I don’t need to figure everything out.

Maybe I just need to breathe.

One breath.

Then another.

And remind myself,

I don’t have to survive tomorrow, tonight.

I only have to make it through this moment.

And this moment will pass too. 🖤

~Desi

10/04/2026

Cheers to 37!! My girls pulled through 🖤😭🎂🎈🍸

10/01/2026

CHECK IN 🖤

I want to talk to the survivors for a minute.

I think most people who have read about the have been traumatized by what they’ve read. Sickened. Horrified. Heartbroken. Angry.

But can you imagine what this feels like for survivors?

We’re not just reading a headline.

We remember.

Our bodies remember.

The things we’ve survived don’t always stay in the past. Sometimes a story or headline can bring it all rushing back.

And lately, there has been SO much.

The case. The trial. The case. And everything surrounding my own case that I shared last week.

As a child abuse survivor, this has been incredibly triggering. I’m carrying my own history while watching these stories unfold.

I talk openly about what happened to me as a child, but that wasn’t the only sexual assault I experienced. I had two other incidents as a teenager. Both happened while I was in treatment.

So when I see these stories, I’m not just watching something terrible happen to someone else.

There are parts of me that remember.

I’ve been overwhelmed, angry, triggered & exhausted.

This is a LOT.

If you’ve been feeling the same way, I see you. I’ve been feeling it too.

Maybe this is when we need each other most.

It’s okay to step back, disconnect & protect your peace. Taking a breath doesn’t mean you stopped caring. It gives you room to keep going.

Eat. Drink water. Check on your friends. Ask for support. Call a safe friend. Love each other through the days when getting out of bed feels like an accomplishment.

That’s what a close friend & I did Tuesday. We were both really freakin’ triggered, so we talked & reminded each other we weren’t alone.

And yesterday, I took my own advice. I let my kids play hooky & spent the day with them.

No researching. No fighting. No doom scrolling.
Just my kids & filling my cup.

Because I deserve some peace & joy, & so do you. 🖤

If you’re wondering how much more you can take, please hear me, don’t give up.

Just make it through today. One minute at a time.

Let others hold you, & if you’re able, hold someone else.

You’re not alone 🖤

09/27/2026

Last night was really hard. Like, really freaking hard.

First, I’m incredibly grateful to the woman who recently followed me and took the time to reach out to contacts and dig into my case to find information I desperately needed. 🖤 I’ve been trying to understand my own case and figure out exactly how I’m going to fight this, and she helped me find pieces I didn’t have.

I just wasn’t prepared for how much it would affect me to actually read it.

In 2019, the detective told me, “For your mental health, I don’t think you need to see these pictures or know the details of them.”

Last night, I understood exactly why.

I only read the descriptions of TWO out of the ten second degree felonies.

Two.

And I got physically sick. I completely broke down.

Because how the fu*k are they letting this man out?

The things he had were horrific.

And then I realized… these were the pictures he attached MY FACE to.

And this was only 10 of them.

He had over 200 and put my face on ALL of them.

Every. Single. One.

What the actual hell.

How am I supposed to process that?

I shouldn’t have to know these details. But if I’m going to stand in that courtroom and fight this, I need to understand exactly what I’m fighting.

I need them to understand that this isn’t just something that happened to me when I was a little girl.

This is what he did AFTER.

The court system has made me relive this trauma over and over again just to prove that I’m still in danger.

And right now, it feels like too much.

But I’ll keep going.

Because someone has to fight for the little girls in those pictures. They can’t fight for themselves. They can’t stand in that courtroom and tell their stories.

I can’t save them. I can’t undo what was done to them.

But I can be their voice. I can fight for them. I can fight for myself. And I can fight for my daughter.

Right now, I’m exhausted. I’m angry. I’m hurting. I’m triggered as hell. I feel broken.

I’m not okay today.

But I’m going to get up.

And I’ll keep going anyway. 🖤

*If you don’t know what’s going on, check the first pinned post on my page*

First, THANK YOU. To everyone who has shared, reposted, messaged, commented, sent advice, contacts, or simply reminded m...
09/25/2026

First, THANK YOU. To everyone who has shared, reposted, messaged, commented, sent advice, contacts, or simply reminded me I’m not alone, thank you. I’m honestly overwhelmed by the reaction to my story. 🖤 It means more than you know.

These last few months have been HARD. Not just emotionally, but physically & psychologically too. My health has declined, I’ve been so sick I ended up in the hospital twice, I’ve lost 45 pounds, and my depression, anxiety & PTSD have been incredibly triggered. My body & mind are exhausted.

I’m tired of being let down by a system that protects abusers & leaves survivors with minimal protection. I’m tired of living in fear. I’m tired of the “what ifs,” constantly overthinking every possible scenario because my brain is desperately trying to keep me safe.

And the truth is… I haven’t been okay. Some days I’m hanging on by a literal thread. Some days I think, I don’t know if I can do this. Maybe I’m not as strong as I thought I was. Maybe I’m too broken. Maybe I’ll never live a normal life.

But then I remember my kids. My husband. My family. My friends. The life I’ve fought so damn hard to build.

I refuse to let him win. I refuse to lose myself again.

So I get up. I go to therapy. I do the damn work. I keep showing up.

And no, I don’t have this figured out. I’ll still have days I can’t get out of bed or leave the house. Days I feel like giving up. Days I feel like a million broken pieces trying to put myself back together. Days my people have to remind me who the fu*k I am.

But then I pick myself back up.

Maybe slowly. Maybe messy. Maybe with tears. Maybe with help.

But I do, because I’ve been through worse. So I can do this again.

Does it suck that I have to? Absolutely.

But I can do hard things.

This is just another plot twist. And if there’s one thing anyone knows about me, it’s that I’m the QUEEN of plot twists. 😂 Somehow, someway, I always figure the s**t out.

So don’t worry.

I got this.

Even when sometimes it feels like I don’t. 🖤

Follow along because I’ll be sharing updates as I go through this process.

And if you haven’t, PLEASE share/repost my last post. Help me get this story where it needs to go.

09/22/2026

In 2019, I released a podcast telling the story of what happened to me as a child.

I thought I was telling the story of my past.

I didn’t know that while I was telling that story, I would discover that my past was still following me. That the boogeyman from my childhood was still hunting me.

A couple months after my podcast release I found out he had been following me, stalking me, taking pictures of my, was planning to abduct me, and SO much more.

And suddenly, the story I thought I had survived became a story I was still living.

28 years later, I’m facing the same man for the third time because the continues to fail.

This time, I’m fighting for my safety.
I’m fighting for mine and my family’s protection.
Honestly, I’m fighting for my actual life.

Knowing everything I know now, I’m in danger, anyone that goes near this man is in danger.
And I have to do something.

There is so much more to this story than what I’ve ever shared publicly.

I think I was embarrassed that I was being victimized again by my original abuser.
My old step father. I know that sounds silly, but the shame was real. I was so ashamed, embarrassed, and all the things in between.

Once again, I carried the shame because of what HE did to me. How is that fair?

Well I’m done.

I’m ready to tell you all everything.
Because I can’t let him hurt me or anyone else again.

But I’m going to need you.
I’m going to need help this time.

I don’t ask for help easily. In fact, I almost never do. But this time, I need an army behind me.

We have roughly two months before court to get this story heard, to fight for my protection, and to make sure the system hears me.

I’m going to need people to listen.
To share these posts.
To speak up.
To help get this story into the right hands.

Because this time, I can’t do it quietly.

I’m scared.
I’m exhausted.
And I know I can’t do this alone.

But I’m still here.

And I’m ready to fight. 🖤

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