The Story of Samar
My name is Samar, and when I first came to AWT, I was in miserable shape. My life has been marked by humiliation and shame in a culture where a woman’s worth is judged by her purity. Because of a “thick hymen,” my reputation was questioned. Whispers, accusations, and painful comments followed me everywhere. As a divorced woman, I was harassed constantly by men who saw me as easy prey, wanting me only for my body. I withdrew from friends, avoided social gatherings, and carried a heavy burden of isolation. Every step outside my home felt like walking into judgment, and I started believing that the world only saw my faults.
In desperation, I turned to a psychiatrist, hoping for help. Instead, I was shattered by his words: “If I were your father, I would have killed you.” That sentence cut me deeper than anything else. I sank into severe depression, numbed by medication, consumed by self-hatred. I was angry with God, blaming Him for everything I had endured, and I came close to abandoning faith altogether. I remember nights spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if life held any value for me, if anyone could ever love or respect me, or if I could ever forgive myself.
When I finally reached AWT, something different happened. For the first time in my life, I felt truly heard, without judgment, without condemnation. The counselors patiently listened as I poured out my pain, validating my emotions and reminding me that my worth was not defined by others’ opinions. Slowly, I began to believe that maybe I could learn to love myself again. Instead of beating myself with guilt, I started to give myself grace, telling myself, “I can allow excuses instead of self-punishment.” For the first time, I dared to dream of a future where I mattered.
One particular moment stands out vividly. In the midst of my depression and exhaustion, I realized I no longer had thoughts of ending my life. It felt like a small miracle, a spark of hope amidst darkness. I began to see myself differently: “I used to think I was a dirty girl,” I confessed one day, “but now I see that the dirtiness is in the bad thoughts of people, not in me.” That perspective gave me courage. I hugged my mother for the first time in years. I stood before a mirror, something I used to fear, and spoke to my reflection with compassion instead of hatred. In my heart, a quiet conviction grew: “A time will come when I leave an imprint on this life.”
As I continued in counseling, I discovered practical ways to reclaim my life. I learned to set boundaries with those who sought to harm or belittle me. I began engaging in small acts of self-care, reading, journaling, and praying in my own words. I also started mentoring a younger woman who had experienced harassment, using my story to inspire courage and resilience. Each interaction reminded me that my pain could be transformed into purpose and that my voice could have power.
Day by day, I grew stronger. I learned that having someone listen without judgment was life-changing, and I began offering that same gift to others. I forgave myself, embraced my worth, and dared to hope. Today, the road ahead is still long, but I walk it steadily, with faith, with courage, and with a goal before me. I am no longer defined by shame, but by the new life I am building, step by step, with love, resilience, and determination. I am Samar, and I am rising.