Being Stabbed by a Knifeman Did Not Stop Me Finding Happiness & Purpose in Life by Yvonne Miller | Inspiring Story #174

Bright lights attracted me to the shop window. Fixated, I stood staring, imagining sparkly gems hanging off my neck. I only looked away for a second, but a second was all it took. Our eyes met. I’d accidentally made eye contact with a very tall but hunched, disheveled man. He’d been loitering up ahead. He looked out of it. With very cold eyes he taunted, “What you looking at?”

The man lunged forward and gave chase, muttering under his breath. I took off. It was like a movie scene. He raised his hand. I saw a knife. I had to get away fast. But he was faster. The knifeman was right up close. He could catch me at any moment. I made a sharp shift to the right. The knife came toward me in blurry slow motion. I backed into an estate agent’s office. As I leaned away, the knifeman slashed at my neck. Blood ran down my throat. God only knows how much deeper the slash would have been if I hadn’t pulled back.

Someone in the office wanted to call the Police. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t know how. Instead, I laughed hysterically.  I shook my head, “No, I just want to get out of here”. I was so embarrassed. If the police came, everyone would know. Everyone would know how bad a person I was.

Seventeen at the time, and feeling so ashamed, I hid what happened. I believed bad things happened to me because I deserved it.

As a child, at aged seven, I was physically beaten with a leather belt for lying about eating some food. I still have a 3-inch scar where the belt caught me. My father had never done that to anyone in the house, and he never did it again. Still, I bled; humiliated and ashamed. My mother, on her return from work, said I deserved it.

When I was eleven, someone came to live in our home who bullied me and sexually abused me most nights for years. As an adult, I discovered he’d given me crabs. But as a child, at the time, I thought God was punishing me. I felt ashamed. Unworthy. I had no one to talk to. Not even my mother. She was often depressed, and her painful words ran through my mind, “Having children is the worst thing I’ve done in my life.”

After the knife attack, I continued suffering in silence. I had but one tiny haven of hope. That was my inner voice. Though small, she somehow believed things could be better. Instead of dealing with my feelings of unworthiness, I became obsessed with becoming a success. I met a businessman, Derek.  I worked in his restaurant while I studied. I focused and worked hard. By the time I was in my 20s, I owned my first 100-seater restaurant. A few years later, I opened a second. In my 30’s, while still running the restaurant, I became one of the youngest college principals in London.

Still, I wasn’t happy with myself. I was exhausted, working hard without joy or a real purpose.

I didn’t want children because I thought I couldn’t love them. And I was so busy working and running the restaurant, I didn’t have time for children anyway. Then when I turned 40, I panicked. I wanted a baby after all. I got pregnant. Sadly, I was hospitalized, and an infection took over my body. My little baby boy, Samson, was stillborn. I wailed for hours, cradling him on my own. I thought about my life's purpose. Samson was my angel. I was traumatized, but suddenly awake.

I could see it clearly. Not feeling loved as a child had caused me to seek validation elsewhere. I’d totally exhausted myself to the point of being hospitalized and losing Samson. I was finally ready to release all the emotions - anger, resentment, grief, and loneliness stored inside of me.

"Still, I wasn’t happy with myself. I was exhausted, working hard without joy or a real purpose."

I studied and learned all I could about changing my thinking and life. I re-prioritized. I learned to love myself first. I learned how to feel. I learned that I had to self-parent if I was ever going to be a loving parent myself. By the time I was pregnant with my second son, I’d learned how to love and mother him to independence. I’d made real-life changes; selling the restaurant and choosing to spend quality time with myself and my son. I was living the happy, purposeful life I deserved.

Unraveling my trauma taught me just how resilient I am.  I learned that no matter our difficulties, no matter the enemies we face, if we believe, we can do something to transform our lives. Our scars and slashes bear witness; we’ve been through some bad stuff, but we aren’t bad.

We survived, and our stories become wise guides to help others thrive through their difficult experiences.