When EVIL Wins? A Letter to Survivors

There's a moment that comes to every abuse survivor—a moment when you look at your abuser living their best life while you're still picking up the pieces. They're thriving. Posting happy photos. Receiving praise. Maybe even playing the victim themselves.

And you're left wondering: Did evil just... win?

I see you. I know that rage. I know that desperate, clawing feeling of injustice that makes you want to scream at the sky. Your abuser walks free while you carry scars they carved into your soul. They sleep soundly while you fight nightmares. They move on while you're still learning how to feel safe in your own skin.

It feels like evil won.

But here's what I've learned through my own journey, and what I hope might shift something in you today: Evil doesn't win. It just looks like it does from certain angles.

The Illusion of Victory

When we see abusers "winning," we're watching a performance. A carefully curated illusion. Because here's the truth most people don't talk about: people who hurt others are fundamentally broken in ways they'll never admit.

Your abuser may have money, status, new relationships, the respect of people who don't know what you know. But what they don't have—what they can't have—is peace. Real, bone-deep peace that comes from being whole.

Think about it: Healthy, content people don't abuse others. People who feel secure in themselves don't need to tear others down. People who genuinely love themselves don't need to destroy someone else to feel powerful.

Your abuser is performing happiness while running from a truth they can't face: they are the problem. And no amount of success, no number of new victims to manipulate, no performance of normalcy will ever fill that void.

They didn't win. They're just really good at hiding how much they lost when they chose cruelty over humanity.

What They Actually Lost

Let me tell you what your abuser lost when they abused you—losses they'll never recover from, even if they never acknowledge them:

They lost authenticity. Everything about them now is a lie. Every smile, every "good" deed, every relationship is built on the foundation of deception. They can never truly be known because being known would mean being exposed.

They lost the capacity for genuine connection. Real intimacy requires vulnerability, honesty, and the ability to see another person as fully human. Your abuser traded that for control. They'll never know what it feels like to be truly loved for who they really are—because who they really are is something they hide even from themselves.

They lost their own humanity. Piece by piece, choice by choice, they carved away the parts of themselves that could feel empathy, remorse, love. What's left might look successful, but it's hollow. A shell performing "person" without the substance.

They lost you. And whether they realize it or not, that's a devastating loss. You—with your capacity for love, for growth, for becoming someone better than your worst moments. They lost access to that light. They lost the chance to be changed by knowing someone real.

But What About Justice?

I know. You want justice. You want them to face consequences. You want the world to see what you saw, to hold them accountable, to make them pay.

And maybe that will happen. Maybe karma is real. Maybe their house of cards will collapse. Maybe, eventually, the mask will slip in front of the right people.

Or maybe it won't.

And this is the hardest truth: Your healing cannot depend on their downfall.

Because if your peace requires their punishment, they still own you. They still control your emotional state. They still win, in a way, because your freedom is tied to their fate.

Real victory—your victory—is when their success or failure becomes irrelevant to your wellbeing.

The Victory They Can Never Take

Here's what they can never take from you, no matter how much they "win" in the world:

Your truth. You know what happened. You know who they really are. No performance they give can change the reality you lived. Your truth exists whether anyone else believes it or not.

Your growth. Every step you take toward healing is a step they can't undo. Every boundary you set, every pattern you break, every moment you choose differently than they taught you—that's yours. That's real. That's victory they can't touch.

Your transformation. This is the part that would destroy them if they understood it: You are becoming someone deeper, wiser, more compassionate because of what you survived. Not because abuse is good—it's not. But because you are choosing to alchemize that pain into purpose, that suffering into strength.

You are becoming someone who understands darkness and chooses light anyway. Someone who knows cruelty and chooses kindness. Someone who was broken and is becoming whole.

Your abuser will never have that. They'll never know what it feels like to overcome themselves, to face their demons, to do the hard work of becoming better.

The Long Game

Evil doesn't win in the long game. It can't. Because evil is fundamentally unsustainable.

It requires constant performance, constant manipulation, constant feeding of an emptiness that can never be filled. It's exhausting. It's lonely. It's a slow-motion collapse that might look like success for years but ultimately leads to a hollow existence.

Meanwhile, you? You're building something real. Slow, painful, imperfect—but real.

You're learning to trust again. To love again. To feel safe in your own body again. You're building authentic relationships with people who see you and value you. You're discovering who you are when you're not just surviving, when you're not defined by your trauma.

That's the victory they can never achieve. That's winning in ways that actually matter.

Your Choice

So when you see your abuser "winning," remember this: You get to decide what victory looks like.

Is it their downfall? Or is it your freedom?

Is it their punishment? Or is it your peace?

Is it the world knowing what they did? Or is it you no longer needing the world's validation to know your own truth?

Evil doesn't win when you refuse to let it define your life.

Evil doesn't win when you choose healing over hatred.

Evil doesn't win when you become someone who breaks the cycle instead of perpetuating it.

Evil doesn't win when you build a life worth living, regardless of whether your abuser ever faces consequences.

A Final Thought

Your abuser may look like they're winning. But they're performing a life while you're living one. They're hiding who they are while you're doing the brave work of discovering who you really are beneath the wounds.

They may have more money, more status, more public approval.

But you have something they'll never have: the courage to be real, the strength to be vulnerable, and the freedom that comes from not needing to hide.

That's not just victory. That's transcendence.

So keep healing. Keep growing. Keep building your life. Not because you're trying to prove something to them—but because you deserve a life that's more than just surviving what they did to you.

You deserve to thrive. And every day you choose healing, you move closer to that truth.

Evil only wins if you stop here. If you let their success steal your peace. If you let their freedom chain you to bitterness.

But I don't think you will. Because you're still here, still reading, still looking for hope.

And that means you already know the secret: The best revenge isn't their downfall. It's your rising.

So rise, survivor. Rise and show the world what victory really looks like.

If you're struggling with the aftermath of abuse, please reach out for support. You don't have to walk this path alone. Visit Mandie's Safe Haven for resources and community.

Prayers

Curtis & Mandie