Trigger Warning: This post discusses themes of domestic abuse. While my intention is to inspire and empower, I acknowledge that these experiences can be deeply personal and may be triggering for some. If you are in a vulnerable place, please take care while reading.
Turning Crumbles Into Charms: How I Transformed Pain Into Purpose
I donât want this to be a story about darkness. I want it to be about transformation, resilience, and the power of rebuilding. But in order to share what Iâve built, I need to share where I started. My journey with Crumble Charms is rooted in a past that shaped me, but it does not define me.
There is a stigma around abuse â that it only happens to weak-minded women. That if you are strong, independent, and self-sufficient, it could never happen to you. I used to believe that too. I had always been switched on, strong-willed, and strong-minded. I already had a business. I had never accepted being treated poorly in relationships, and I told myself I would never tolerate abuse. I came from a good family â my parents loved and respected each other. I thought I was immune.
But abuse doesnât happen all at once. Itâs insidious. It creeps in slowly, like a fog rolling in before you realize you can no longer see clearly. By the time I understood what was happening, it felt too late.
I remember the moment I realized I was in an abusive relationship. Almost two years ago, I was sitting there, crying, feeling sorry for him as he was being sentenced for destroying my belongings. My poor little sister and my best friend looked at me and said, "I don't even know how to support you." And in that moment, it hit me â how deeply I had been conditioned to put his pain above my own. I was mourning for the person who had shattered my life while the people who truly loved me were helplessly watching me disappear into his darkness. That was the moment I knew.
Even then, I wasnât fully ready to accept the truth â I told myself he didnât mean it, that he couldnât control it, that he had a rough upbringing and was trying to change. I clung to the good moments, believing they outweighed the bad.
There was no one defining moment that made me leave. I had support, I knew people would help me, but none of that made it easier. When people dismissed the good parts of him, it only made me more determined to stay. People arenât one-dimensional villains; they are complex, layered, and deeply flawed. I knew what was happening wasnât right, yet I couldnât walk away â until I finally could. Seeing him manipulate others the way he had manipulated me was the wake-up call I needed. The spell broke, and I saw the reality I had been trying so hard to deny.
Why Women Stay Quiet
Many women carry the weight of abuse alone, not because they donât have support, but because people donât understand why they donât leave. Friends withdraw, unsure how to help. Society victim-blames. And the abuser? He conditions you to believe that whatâs happening isnât abuse at all. It follows a script:
- That didnât happen.
- And if it did, it wasnât that bad.
- And if it was, itâs not a big deal.
- And if it is, it wasnât my fault.
- And if it was, I didnât mean it.
- And if I did, you deserved it.
Over time, you stop trusting yourself. You stop recognizing abuse when it happens because it becomes your normal. And even when you do recognize it, hope keeps you stuck â the hope that heâll change, that things will get better, that all the effort and pain will someday be worth it. But hope alone doesnât bring happiness, and a man who doesnât follow through on change never will either.
Rebuilding: Finding Myself Again
After leaving, I felt like a blank canvas. The beliefs I had about myself and the world had been stripped away, forcing me to rebuild from scratch. My psychologist suggested art therapy, but I didnât have time to paint. My mum encouraged me to pour that creativity into my business. At the time, I was drowning in contract manufacturing work â my creativity was stifled, and I was deeply unhappy.
So, I started creating. I let myself experiment with new products, just to see what would happen. Working with my hands became meditative, a quiet act of reclaiming myself. When I finally reached out to a designer to bring my vision to life, something in me shifted. Seeing my ideas take shape, watching the branding and colors come to life â it was a dopamine hit to my depleted brain. For the first time in a long time, I felt something stir inside me: excitement, purpose, joy.
Crumble Charms: A Reflection of Transformation
Crumble Charms wasnât just a business. It was a lifeline, a testament to my resilience, a way to channel pain into something beautiful. The journey of building it mirrored my own healing â taking broken pieces and creating something whole again. Every product I make carries that story. Itâs why I pour so much into it.
To the people who are where I once was: You are not alone. You are not weak. You are not defined by what has happened to you. There is life beyond the pain, and there is strength in you waiting to be unleashed. My hope is that in sharing my story, I can show you that transformation is possible. No matter how lost you feel, you are capable of rebuilding. And when you do, you will create something extraordinary.