Home Security Part 1: I’m a Victim

I’m fully aware the blogging and social media world makes it look like everyone’s life is full of rainbows and sunshine. I’m the first to admit I don’t share photos where it looks like I have unlimited chins, ate tacos for a month straight or where my wrinkles are out in full effect. There is always more to life than what we see on the internet.

I’m a big believer that everyone has had a “thing” in life that they will have to deal with. Whether it is growing up in a difficult environment, losing a family member, health issues or some other traumatic event. Today I’m sharing my “thing” and I’m sad to say it has to do with home security. 11 years ago I was a victim of a violent assault in my own home.

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Before I tell my story, I want you to know I’ve never shared any of this on my blog before. A lot of my good friends probably don’t even know the full story since it isn’t really something that comes up often in conversation.

Being honest, this is a tough one for me to write. My story is a little bit graphic so please read on with caution.

Back in 2007, I was newly married and living in an apartment in Ohio with my husband. The apartment complex was brand new and in a trendy urban area of town. Our place was on a bit of a transitional street, but I never felt unsafe living there. One day I came home from work to find the door had been pried open with a crowbar and the place had been robbed. We had a number of personal items stolen, which was awful, but only the beginning of the story.

About 6 months later, I was home alone after a long day at work. I was packing up a few boxes because my husband and I were moving into our first house together the very next morning. I heard a knock on the door and thought it was my husband who I was expecting home to help me pack. While I usually check the peep hole, I didn’t on that particular day since I was distracted with the packing.

As soon as I opened the door, a large man I’ve never seen before pushed the door wide open and immediately started beating me up. He really didn’t say anything and kept hitting me over and over. I tried multiple times to escape out the back door, but he kept catching me and hitting me even harder. At one point after trying to escape, he threw me against a cabinet door, which shattered and I fell to the ground. He grabbed one of my own kitchen knives and stabbed me in the chest. Eventually, he tied me up on the couch with my own computer cord, asked me where my car keys were, left the house and stole my car. The whole ordeal lasted about 5 terrifying minutes.

Even though I was bleeding like crazy, I was able to wiggle free from the computer cord and run over to a neighbor’s house. They called an ambulance and my husband, who was able to drive home and ride in the ambulance with me to the hospital. I received countless staples and stitches, but miraculously didn’t have any major injuries. The man was caught by the police the next morning when they found my car parked a block away from his home. The police were able to take a guess of who it was based on my description, even though I was unable to pick him out of a line-up (super common in trauma situations). Months later, I had to appear in court to make a victim statement and he was sentenced to 19.5 years in jail for burglary, aggravated burglary, assault and kidnapping.

The police and I both suspect it was the same individual who robbed my house 6 months prior. He seemed totally out of it (likely on drugs) and probably was returning to try to rob the place again. My guess is I surprised him when I answered the door. Talk about being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

My physical wounds have healed (minus a few scars) and the emotional wounds have faded over time. Well, until my husband and I were unlucky enough to have another recent experience with robbery (thankfully no assault this time around).

To be continued tomorrow in Part 2….