Arija's Story

This image is a representation of the women we serve.

This is the story of a resident at The WellHouse. Names and locations have been changed to protect the survivor. Images are representatives of the women we serve.

Arija is a Hebrew name that means Lioness of God.

This is Arija’s story.

Two years ago today I gave up… I gave up being hurt, I gave up fighting myself and those trying to help me.

I gave up running from myself, the police, my past, and those that loved me, I gave up the thought that my life would never be okay and ‘normal’ again.

I gave up giving my baby less than she deserved.

I gave up on everything but it was the best thing to happen. I was so mentally and physically exhausted of life and how much I had been through.

In September of 2019, local police officers showed up to the house I was staying at stating they had warrants for my arrest. I knew they would catch up to me sooner or later no matter how hard I tried avoiding them. Although at the time I saw them as the bad guys, I would soon see that they would change my entire life for the better.

I remember the hurt I felt when one of the officers asked me to hand him my baby, as I felt like I was losing the last thing that I had to hold onto (mentally and physically).

He had her best interest at heart, and I knew that she would be okay going to be with my family, but I still didn’t see how any of it would work out for my good.

After talking with investigators for the entire day and telling them what I had gone through in detail, he said that I needed to go home to family where I belong. Of course, my thoughts were still cloudy, and I argued with this suggestion. I still had my mind made up that “I was fine.”

I wasn’t fine and I knew I wasn’t fine, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, and he saw this from the start. I finally agreed to go back home but he saw right through me. He knew that I wouldn’t stay there and would still never properly heal that way. So we went back to arguing about how I needed some serious treatment.

Then, he suggested, The WellHouse.

My mother had tried getting me to go in the past and, of course, I always declined because I thought it was completely unnecessary for me. I was so beyond tired of fighting with myself at that point that I finally agreed to go. Also, because the police officer said he would take me to jail if I didn’t go, so I picked the one that sounded least miserable.

He made me promise that I would stay for three months, and in return he would help do what he could to take care of some of my legal problems. I could not stop crying as he dropped me off with the ladies from Trafficking Hope.

They kept offering me a hug, but all I wanted was my baby.

People recall the day I entered The WellHouse and recall how scared and upset I looked. I wasn’t scared, I was mad and hurt that I had to be the one away from my baby and family while others didn’t. I was only crying for my baby. I had already missed her more than anything and didn’t know how I would make it three months.

The three months flew by, even though in the moment, the time couldn’t go any faster. To my surprise, I said I would wait another week to go home. That week went by, and I said I’d give it another month. That month turned into two months, then three months, then four, and then ONE FULL YEAR!!

I graduated after completing a year, and I still decided to stay another year. Today marks TWO years, and my life is better than I could ever imagine it being. I have job that I absolutely LOVE and get so much fulfillment from doing.

I’m back to being with my family as I should be. I have new healthy relationships and friendships with so many new people I have met along the way that truly want nothing but the best for me, and I can now say that I DID THAT!

People don’t make it out of what I made it out of, but I did. I pushed myself to get help for myself no matter how bad it hurt being away from my girls and what was comfortable to me.

This week I move back home, which is another thing I never thought would happen.

It feels good to have my own place I’m responsible for, while doing my job that I love, and making time for my family.

Even though I was at peace with my past and acknowledged what happened, I said I’d never talk about it publicly. But, I could not sit here in silence and not share my story of what I went through. Maybe one day I’ll be able to put my story out there in detail, but for now, I hope acknowledging my accomplishment can help someone else out there that believes there’s no way out of whatever they’re going through. It’ll hurt and be so beyond hard but it’s so beyond worth it! I thank God over and over everyday for this amazing new life he has given me. It’s a new happiness and joy to me that nothing can compare.