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I am Name years old single mom of two beautiful kids ages 10 and 12 years old. I was once a victim of abusement, harassment, assault, defamation, and rudeness of other people when I am just a simple, kind and silent person. Until now, they still look down on me and I don't know what have I done why they hate, angry and so rude to me. They are treating me like I am not an educated person when I am and they keep on look down on me because we are just simple and in a middle class person or family. And they think that they think better than me and I don't have any complain of it but they keep trying to argue with me that I am a better dumb person to them. And it's kind of abusing to think of that way that they think like that to me and that's insult me of my human being. I don't know what to do right now on how to express of this. My family I dont know if they doesn't know about this or they know about this or just hiding from me that they know everything but they really dont agree with me all the time or don't believe in me. What help should I seek for this matter of existence!?

I was in an abusive relationship for 12 years. I met him when I was fourteen and we came together when I was fifteen. He was nice and lovely and I fell in love with him. I never thought that he could have a dark side. After a few month I began to realize, that there is something inside him. When we had our first fight, he screamed with me and I had so much fear. He apologized and I forgived him. But: It didn‘t stopped. He was verbal abusive. He said that I am a whore. He made me feeling small and like I am the worst person in the world. He said, that I am a psycho. He said I am a joke. He said I am nothing. He said, that he has to talk and scream with me like this, because I don‘t understand his points otherwise. He began to destroy things like my watch or a necklace. The walls had holes and he often grabbed me at my shoulders very hard when he got angry. When I cried, he became angrier at all. I locked myself in the toilet because I had so much fear of him. He also pushed me at the asphalt when he was drunk sometimes. I had bruises. One time he choked me. I never told anybody what happend, because I always forgived him and felt so fucking guilty. I tried to left him, but he always said, that he will kill himself, when I go. I went to therapy but even there I was so ashamed, that I didn‘t talk about the abuse. After two years of therapy I got stronger and stronger. I was ready to talk to somebody about the things that happend to me and that I want to leave him. Suddenly I felt free and was ready to go. He always said, that he loves me and that I am the love of his life. It never was love. I realized that I was in an abusive relationship. There were verbal, emotional and physical abuse. I didn't imagine any of it. I wasn't crazy. Whoever is reading this and is in a similar situation: You are strong! You are intelligent! You are beautiful! You are a good person! You can trust yourself! You can talk to someone! You can do this! You can leave him! You are a wonderful human being! I love you all out there and send you hugs. We have to share our stories and we are allowed to share them. Together we can change something.

Date, around time I went on a date with him (a correctional officer), thinking it was an opportunity to become acquainted with him as a friend, but it turned out to be a horrific night which I would only remember parts of. He picked me up in his white pickup truck; it smelled of cologne and winterfresh gum. Two smells I will never forget. He took me to a dirty dive bar without asking where to go. I already didn’t feel safe, and I regret that I never said anything to this day. I got my first drink, rum and coke. Keep in mind that my glass was smaller than a coffee mug. We started talking, and he told me he used to be in the army. He seemed to be trying hard to persuade and impress me, but I was not falling for it. The taste of my drink was no different than I had before. I was nearly done with my first drink when he asked if I wanted another, and I agreed. He returned with another and asked if I wanted to play darts, and I again agreed. I took one drink of my second rum and coke he brought to me and started to feel dizzy, tired, and weak. I didn’t say anything yet. I continued with darts. By then, he gave me a third drink, I don’t remember if I even had a drink of it. I do recall saying, ‘I wanted to go home,’ and we left out the side door to his white pickup truck. I don’t remember getting inside the front seat, let alone the backseat. My eyes flickered open and closed, waking up only to see him face-to-face with me. Raping me, I am frozen in shock. Disgusted by what he was saying to me. When he was done, he threw a towel on me and told me to ‘clean up.’ He tossed my shoe onto my nude body and said, ‘Now I will take you home.’ Twenty degrees outside, I was fully nude in a familiar parking lot. I got dressed. He took me home; no words were exchanged. Once I got in my house, I went straight into the shower and cried. I was a virgin He took my innocence from me that I can never get back. Date, around time Sitting in my office, He came in unannounced and sat down in a chair by the door. I looked up, feeling uneasy. I asked him, ‘what are you doing?’ He replied as he got up from his chair, ‘I know you want this cock.’ He blocked me between my seat, the wall, and my desk, I had nowhere to go. He unzipped his pants and grabbed a handful of my hair, and forcefully give him oral sex. This time I remember the whole brutal rape. Pushing, gagging, and choking only made him put more force and hurt upon me. His strength was unbearable. When it was over, he threw a piece of winterfresh gum at me and left. Crying, feeling dirty, guilty, and shameful, I put myself together and completed my day. Violated, not only once but twice, by the same guy. Once outside of work and the other inside work. After the first attack, I was broken inside, but the second attack really damaged me. If I told anyone, no one would believe me because he was a very well-liked person at work, and I was just a caseworker. My sisters were the first to know about the first assault in April 2020. I held back on the second as I felt they wouldn’t forgive me for allowing it to happen again. October 2020 I told my sisters about the second assault. I went to internal affairs, who sent me to detectives. They supposedly did an investigation, but boys will boys, and where I worked, they all stick together. The DA dropped the case. January - October 2023 I now moved out of that county because of the triggers and the hope that my PTSD will get better with time. I feel stronger I told my story and know I am a survivor. I hope my story will become someone else’s survival guide. This happens when you are a strong, outspoken woman at the County Name Jail inCity, State Name

I survived. I got out. You can too. Insidious and devious are the words I think of when I've wondered how I got trapped. My ex-spouse was so charming, everybody thought he was a great person and I did too. So much so that I decided to ignore the fact he raped me and chalked it up to us drinking. Then gradually as we dated and then married he tried to spin a web of control around me by being angry and violent when I would spend time with friends or go to the gym or go to the library to study. Telling me I was not allowed to go to the gym because there were men there. Being told I couldn't go to work events. Calling my work when I was working late and accusing me of having affairs, then being verbally and physically abusive. He was so successful at manipulating others even my dad, initially, didn't believe me when I told him about the monster and the horrible things I had endured. I finally told my dad what had been going on when he threatened to kill me and chased me with a baseball bat. I was able to get in my car and get away and called my dad crying and screaming. He thought I had lost my mind. Some of my friends also thought I had lost it, and told me oh he is so nice and scoffed when I said I was filing for divorce and a protective order. After the first two calls to the sheriff they believed me and were so kind, frequently driving by my house and making sure I was safe. There is power in being believed. There is strength in knowing that others have made it out both alive and eventually became whole. I still experience occasional flashbacks and certain situations will trigger my anxiety, but I am able to trust people again and no longer fear "being in trouble" if I spend time with friends. Even more, I have allowed myself to become emotionally vulnerable with other people again after all these years. That was a huge leap for me. And I genuinely feel like a good person again.

My mom was Lily Bloom and I’m her Emerson but sadly it did not end there . I wish I could have not fallen for the charm or been blinded by the red flags but like my mom nobody saw the signs . My mom wasn’t able to leave and she wasn’t able to tell her story. But after sharing with her the trauma I endured from these past two insanely manipulating, toxic , abusive relationships . She was finally able to tell me I wasn’t alone , and my father was her Ryle , and like all Ryles they say they can change . But they won’t . Thankfully my mom and I both left our Ryles and found comfort in being each others safe place .

I grew up in a very violet household and later found myself in a terrifying situation after leaving my partner. I was stalked and maliciously attacked by him. I was unable to get much help as he was a military man and the city has more intentions of protecting him than me. It has made me one of the strongest people I know. I am a survivor and I use my voice and story to inspire others to get out and find a new way. It ends with all of us together.

I had accepted my fate, until one day a friend witnessed the aftermath of the abuse. That friend saved my life, and I found my will to live. It's been ten years since I said no more, and I've built a life for myself that I never thought I'd live to see. You are not alone. You are worthy. You are loved. You deserve the world. There is a reason you are here, and the world is so much better with you in it.

My story begins long before the day I finally escaped. I was 18 years old when I met the man who would become the father of my children. At that time, I was young, inexperienced, and still trying to understand who I was and what I wanted my life to become. I had grown up in the country, but because my father had moved our family to country when I was young, I found myself building my adult life in a country that never truly felt like home. When I was 19, I became pregnant with my first child. The pregnancy was unexpected, but I was determined to do everything I could to become a good mother. I had been raised with strong personal beliefs about pregnancy and motherhood, and I made the decision to continue my pregnancy and welcome my son into the world. At the time, I believed that starting a family would bring stability and happiness. I believed that becoming parents would bring out the best in both of us. Instead, the abuse began during my pregnancy. The first incident that I remember clearly happened when I was eight months pregnant with my son. I was working because we needed money to prepare for the baby. One day, while walking home from work, I began experiencing intense pain and physical discomfort. My body was preparing for birth, and I was struggling to walk. At one point, my hips felt like they were giving out, and I had to stop and hold onto the side of a bridge while people around me asked if I was okay. I was eight months pregnant, visibly struggling, and the people around me showed concern. But when my phone started filling with missed calls and messages from my partner, his first reaction was not concern. I was only about 15 minutes late. Instead of asking if I was safe, he accused me of being with another man. He knew I had been at work, but he assumed the worst and demanded explanations for where I had been. At the time, I did not recognize this as abuse. I was young, and I did not understand that jealousy, accusations, and controlling behavior were warning signs. When I arrived home, I found our room destroyed. My books, which were incredibly important to me, had been thrown around, damaged, and ruined. I have always been a reader, and I am also a writer, so those books represented years of memories and a part of who I was. Objects that mattered to me had been destroyed. Things that carried sentimental value were broken. I remember feeling like I had walked into a battlefield. I tried to explain what happened. I tried to make him understand that I had not done anything wrong. Instead, he became increasingly angry. His face changed, he was yelling, and he became physically aggressive. During that argument, he pushed me while I was eight months pregnant. At the time, I did not understand the medical consequences of what happened. A few days later, during a routine appointment, doctors discovered that I had a tear in my amniotic sac and almost no amniotic fluid. I was immediately sent to the hospital. My son was born prematurely after an induced labor that lasted approximately 17 hours. He was born with serious complications and came into the world struggling because of the lack of oxygen. I remember being exhausted beyond anything I had ever experienced. I remember feeling alone. I remember being pushed to continue when I had almost nothing left. When my son was born, I thought the experience would change everything. I thought becoming a father would make him realize the importance of protecting our family. I wanted to believe that he could change. So I stayed. I tried to make it work. But the pattern continued. After my son was born, my life became centered around protecting him and trying to create a stable home. I was a young mother trying to balance everything: working, caring for a newborn, and trying to understand how to navigate a relationship that was becoming more frightening. At first, I kept hoping that the incident during my pregnancy was a one-time event. I wanted to believe that he had lost control because of stress, fear, or immaturity. I wanted to believe that once we had our child, he would become the partner and father I hoped he could be. Instead, the behavior continued and slowly became part of my everyday life. Over the years, the abuse took many forms. It was not only physical. There were constant insults, yelling, intimidation, and emotional attacks. I was called degrading names and made to feel like I was worthless. There were also racist insults that deeply affected me. Slowly, my confidence was worn down. At the same time, I was trying to be the best mother I could be. My son began experiencing serious medical challenges. When he was around two years old, he had his first seizure. At first, doctors believed it was related to a fever, but the seizures continued throughout his childhood. When he was around eight years old, he experienced a severe seizure that caused significant concern and led doctors to discover that he had epilepsy. I remember carrying him and running through the streets trying to find transportation to get him emergency medical care. He was already more than half my size, but in that moment, none of that mattered. I was his mother, and I needed to get him help. After further evaluations, we learned that my son was autistic. We began noticing differences in the way he learned, his writing abilities, his sensitivities, and the challenges he faced compared to other children. Instead of receiving patience and understanding, my son was sometimes insulted by his father because of his differences. He was called names and made to feel less than he was. That was one of the hardest things for me as a mother. I could endure many things directed at me, but watching my child be hurt emotionally was devastating. I tried to leave multiple times. By the time my son was about five years old, I reached a point where I knew I could not continue living in the same way. I decided to separate from his father. We attempted to move into a co-parenting arrangement, but because we were living in the same country without a strong support system, separating was much more complicated than simply walking away. I was isolated. My family relationships were already difficult, and I did not have a reliable support system around me. Many of my friends did not know the full extent of what was happening. I had become used to hiding what was happening because I was ashamed and because I did not know who could actually help me. During this period, I experienced some of the most frightening incidents of my life. One of the incidents happened after he looked through my phone and found innocent messages from someone I had known as a teenager. They were simple conversations, but he interpreted them as betrayal. He became enraged. He grabbed me, dragged me through the home, pulled my hair, and forced me outside while yelling at me. The force of him pulling my hair was so severe that hair was torn from my scalp, leaving a bald spot that I still have today. He threw money onto the street and told me to find a hotel because I could no longer stay there. What made the situation even more painful was that I was the person paying for the home. I reported what happened. The people I was renting from no longer wanted him living there after what happened, and this became another attempt to separate myself from him. But leaving was never simple. The years that followed were a cycle of trying to leave, trying to protect myself and my children, and trying to survive the consequences of each attempt. During the time that my son's father and I were separated, I was trying to maintain some kind of normal life for my son. I wanted him to have stability. I wanted him to feel loved and protected despite everything happening around us. But even after separation, the control did not end. One of the most painful parts of my experience was realizing that leaving the relationship did not automatically mean I was free from him. The emotional abuse, intimidation, and fear continued. There was one night during that period that changed my life forever. I had been invited to go out with a friend. It was one of the first times in years that I had gone somewhere socially. I was not someone who went out often. I was usually at home caring for my son, working, or dealing with everything happening in my life. Many of the people there were part of the same social circle that my children's father had, because we had shared many of the same friends. I had one drink that night, a non-alcoholic drink because I was never much of a drinker. Shortly afterward, both my friend and I began feeling unusually dizzy and unwell. The sensation did not feel normal, especially because the drink was not supposed to contain alcohol. I remember feeling unsafe and deciding that the best thing was to leave. I made sure my friend got home safely first. During the taxi ride, I tried to remain aware of my surroundings. I was trying to stay calm, stay alert, and make sure I arrived home safely. When I reached my home, I discovered that my children's father was there. He still had keys from when we had lived together. I do not remember everything that happened after he came inside. I remember feeling confused and disoriented, and the next thing I clearly remember is waking up the following day and realizing he was in my bed. Approximately four weeks later, I learned that I was pregnant. I struggled deeply with what had happened because I did not understand how I had become pregnant. I carried a lot of confusion, fear, and pain. Because of my personal beliefs and because abortion was not a legal option available to me, I continued the pregnancy. My daughter was born, and once again I tried to believe that this could be a turning point. Her father told me that because we now had two children together, and because he was attending organization meetings and trying to change, we should give our family another chance. I wanted to believe that people could change. I wanted my children to have a family. So we tried again. We moved into an apartment connected to his family, hoping that living somewhere different would create a safer environment. For a short time, things improved. But eventually, the same patterns returned. The anger returned. The insults returned. The violence returned. He began slapping me, pulling my hair, spitting on me, and verbally attacking me again. I found myself back in the same cycle I had been trying so desperately to escape. I reported incidents to authorities multiple times. I sought help. I documented what happened. But each time, I felt like the consequences fell mostly on me. Every time I reported him, I had to deal with the aftermath. I had to worry about retaliation. I had to worry about my children. I had to worry about whether seeking protection would actually make us safer. Over time, I began to lose hope that the system would protect me. The abuse also affected every other part of my life. I had opportunities that I worked extremely hard for, but maintaining them became almost impossible. I had a job at a software company where I taught students, something I was proud of and passionate about. I worked there for two years. But he would create situations where I would be late, interfere with my ability to maintain my schedule, and even appear at my workplace. Eventually, after struggling to keep everything together, I lost that job. It was devastating. I was not only losing employment. I was losing pieces of the future I had been trying to build. Still, I continued working. I continued caring for my children. I continued advocating for my son through his medical challenges. I was exhausted, but I kept going. Because my children needed me.By this point, I had spent years trying to create a way out. I was working constantly, saving whatever money I could, and trying to create some kind of security for my children. I knew that if I ever wanted to truly leave, I needed a place where we could be safe and stable. Before the pandemic, I managed to save enough money to purchase a small apartment unit that belonged to his mother. She was no longer using it, and she agreed to sell it to me. I paid approximately amount for it, and I worked overtime to make it possible. I invested my own money into restoring it and turning it into a home for my children. For me, that apartment represented something much bigger than a place to live. It represented independence. It represented the possibility that one day I could finally have a life that belonged to me. But the pandemic changed everything. When COVID began, I was forced to spend two years confined with the person I had spent years trying to escape. The isolation made everything worse. There was nowhere to go, fewer people to reach out to, and no easy way to create distance. The abuse continued in front of my children. They heard the yelling. They saw the arguments. They saw their mother being hurt and degraded. As a mother, one of the most painful things was seeing how much it affected them. I was trying to protect them while feeling like I had no way out. During this time, I reached a point where I stopped taking care of myself. I stopped caring about my appearance. I stopped feeling like the person I had once been. But I never stopped being a mother. Even when I felt broken, I continued working. I continued making sure my son received the medical care he needed for his epilepsy and autism. I supported him through school. I helped him learn. I advocated for him when he was struggling. Later, he was also diagnosed with juvenile arthritis, adding another medical challenge to a life that already felt overwhelming. I was carrying the responsibilities of raising two children, managing their medical needs, working, and surviving abuse at the same time. I was drowning, but I was still moving. During those years, I tried repeatedly to find help. I reached out to my father. I showed him evidence of what was happening. I showed him police reports. I asked if my children and I could have somewhere safe to go. But because of complicated family relationships and circumstances, I did not receive the support I needed at that time. I also did not have many friends I could turn to. The years of isolation had taken a toll. Many people around me did not understand the reality of what I was living through, and I felt like I had nowhere to go. I had tried leaving before. Several times. But every attempt ended with him finding a way back into my life. He knew how to convince me to stay. He knew how to create situations where leaving felt impossible. He knew that I had limited options because I was in country, without my documents, without a strong support network, and with children whose lives were tied to the country. Eventually, I began planning my escape more carefully. I knew that if I tried to leave without preparation, I could put myself and my children in greater danger. That was when the control escalated. He began taking away the things that made leaving possible. One of the most devastating examples was my passport. He took my country passport and destroyed it. Without my passport, my ability to travel, replace documents, and leave the country became even more complicated. My work equipment was also destroyed, including my laptop, which I relied on professionally. These were not just objects. They were tools that represented my independence. Taking them away meant taking away my ability to rebuild. I felt trapped. I had spent years trying to survive, and I reached a point where I understood something clearly: If I stayed, I did not know if I would survive. I had received threats. I feared what would happen if I truly left. I feared what he might do if he felt he was losing control. But I also knew something else. My children needed me alive. They needed me to keep fighting. And that became the reason I continued.By the end of 2024, I knew I was reaching the end of what I could endure. For years, I had been trying to survive inside a situation where I felt trapped. I had tried leaving. I had tried asking for help. I had tried working harder, saving money, documenting what was happening, and creating a future for my children. But I was exhausted. I had learned that sometimes leaving is not a single moment. Sometimes it is a long process of quietly preparing, waiting for the safest opportunity, and trying to protect yourself and your children while living with someone who has repeatedly shown that they will not respect your boundaries. During this time, money was another way I was controlled. There were many occasions where he would leave for days at a time, taking money with him, leaving me responsible for the children and the household without enough resources. There were times when I had to rely on his family for food because I had no other option. I had previously helped set up a credit card account as a backup because I needed a way to provide for my children during those moments. When he was gone and I needed groceries or necessities, I would use it and then pay it back little by little. I was not using it as a luxury. I was trying to make sure my children had food and basic needs met. When he discovered that I had been using the card and paying it back through small payments, it became another source of conflict and another situation that ended in violence. Three days after Christmas in 2024, everything reached a breaking point. He became extremely angry and decided to remove me from the home. The home he forced me out of was the home I had worked for. The home I had paid for. The home I had restored and created for my children. He packed my clothes into two trash bags and threw them outside. Then he forced me out. I recorded what was happening because I knew I needed documentation. I remember repeatedly saying that I would leave, but I would not leave without my children. That was the one thing I would not compromise on. I would not walk away and leave my children behind. When I tried to get back inside because my children wanted to leave with me, he shut the metal door and injured my arm. I went to the police station nearby because I needed help. I explained that he was keeping my children from me and described what had happened. But I was told that because he was their biological father, there was nothing they could do at that moment. I walked away feeling devastated. The system that I had hoped would protect me was not giving me the immediate safety I needed. That was when I called my father. Our relationship had been complicated for many years. There had been distance between us, and there were many family issues that had affected our relationship. But during that period, I had still worried about him. After he separated from his wife, I would secretly visit him when I could. I would bring him food, make extra meals, and check on him because I felt he was struggling and becoming isolated himself. This time, when I called and told him what happened, something changed. For the first time, he said the words I had needed to hear for so long: "Come here. You can stay here." That moment changed my life. I moved in with my father and started rebuilding. I worked harder than I ever had before. I focused on healing. I started therapy. My father helped me pay for my first month of therapy, which became an important step in beginning to recover from years of trauma. Slowly, things started changing. I received two promotions at work. I began rebuilding my confidence. I began remembering that I was not only a survivor. I was a person with skills, dreams, intelligence, and a future. Most importantly, I continued fighting for my children. Although I was able to create a safer environment for myself, the situation with my children remained complicated. Their father continued trying to use financial demands and access to the children as a way to control me. He demanded that I pay him large amounts of money, including child support and other expenses. Later, I discovered that some of the payments he claimed responsibility for were not actually being made. I continued documenting everything. I continued fighting. Then came the moment that changed everything for my children. The school called me. They asked me to come immediately. When I arrived, I learned that my daughter was sitting outside the classroom and had not been participating. My daughter has always been social, intelligent, and engaged, so the school knew something was wrong. At first, they believed she was struggling because of the separation between her parents. But then my son arrived. He was crying uncontrollably. He was overwhelmed and could barely communicate what had happened. Eventually, he told the school staff that his father had kicked him in the chest and that he could not breathe. For a child with epilepsy and autism, extreme stress and trauma can have serious consequences. The school told me they could not send my children home with their father that day. They told me I needed to take emergency custody because they were concerned for their safety and would otherwise have to involve child protection authorities. So I took my children home. That day, I knew I could not continue hoping things would improve. I had to protect them.Then came the moment that changed everything for my children. The school called me and asked me to come immediately. When I arrived, I learned that my daughter was sitting outside her classroom and had not been participating in school that day. My daughter has always been social, intelligent, and engaged, so the school staff immediately recognized that something was not right. At first, they believed she might be struggling emotionally because of the separation between her parents. They thought she may have been processing the changes happening in our family. But then they told me about my son. My son arrived at school that day crying, overwhelmed, and unable to calm down. Because of his autism, communicating during moments of extreme stress can be especially difficult for him. The school staff brought him to the principal's office so they could understand what was happening. That was when he disclosed that his father had kicked him in the chest and that he had been unable to breathe. Hearing that was devastating. My son already lived with epilepsy and autism, and I knew how vulnerable he was to extreme stress and trauma. I had spent years advocating for his medical needs, his education, and his emotional well-being. The thought that he was experiencing fear inside the place where he was supposed to be safe was unbearable. The school told me that they could not allow my children to return to their father's care that day without further action. They told me that I needed to take emergency custody measures because they were concerned about their safety and that otherwise they would need to involve child protection authorities. So I took my children home. That day, I realized that I could no longer hope that things would improve on their own.After I took my children home, my entire focus changed. For years, I had been trying to survive while also protecting my children. I had spent so much time trying to prevent situations from becoming worse, trying to keep peace, and trying to find a way forward in circumstances where I felt trapped. But after what happened at the school, I understood something had changed. Waiting for things to improve was no longer an option. My children needed stability. They needed safety. They needed a mother who was willing to keep fighting for them. I immediately began taking steps to protect them legally. I gathered the documentation I had collected over the years, including police reports, messages, recordings, photographs, and other evidence that showed the history of what had happened. I had learned through painful experience that telling the truth was not always enough. I needed documentation. I needed records. I needed evidence that showed the pattern of behavior and not just one isolated moment. During this time, I continued rebuilding my own life. After years of being controlled, isolated, and made to feel powerless, I was slowly discovering that I was capable of standing on my own. I had a home for my children. I had employment. I had support from my father. I had started therapy. I was beginning to find the person I had been before years of abuse had taken so much from me. But the conflict with their father did not end. Even after separation, he continued finding ways to maintain control through financial pressure, demands involving the children, and continued attempts to interfere with my life. I continued documenting everything. I wanted the legal system to understand the complete picture—not only one event, but the years of abuse, intimidation, and control that had brought us to that point. Then the situation escalated again. After years of abuse, separation, and conflict, his behavior became increasingly frightening. For approximately a month, I experienced a period of intense harassment and stalking. I felt watched and unsafe. I feared that losing control over the situation was causing him to escalate his behavior and that he was trying to find a way back into my life. This time, I refused to stay silent. I saved messages. I preserved evidence. I documented what was happening. I contacted authorities when I needed help. For years, I had wondered whether anyone would truly believe me. I had reported abuse before. I had gone to authorities before. I had provided evidence before. But each time, I felt like I was left carrying the consequences of trying to seek protection. This time, I continued because my children deserved safety. Eventually, the situation reached the courts. I presented the evidence I had collected over years, along with the evidence from the more recent harassment and stalking. The legal process was extremely difficult. At one point, the case was at risk of being dismissed despite the amount of evidence I had provided. I refused to give up. I appealed the decision and continued fighting to have my concerns heard. Eventually, I was granted a full no-contact restraining order. That moment was significant for me. It was not just a legal document. It was recognition. Recognition that what I experienced mattered. Recognition that my fear was based on real events. Recognition that I had a right to protection. Although the outcome was not exactly what I originally hoped for, there was finally legal intervention. Instead of going to prison, his family intervened and he was placed in an involuntary psychiatric facility. While that was not the outcome I expected, the court recognized that the situation required serious intervention, and I was granted protection through the no-contact order. But even with that protection, my fight was not over. Because my children and I were still in country. And I was no longer fighting only to escape abuse. I was fighting to bring my children home. During this new chapter of my life, I met my husband. He entered my life after I had already survived years of abuse, isolation, and fear. He saw what I had been through and supported me as I rebuilt myself and fought for my children. For the first time in many years, I experienced what it felt like to have someone beside me who believed me, supported me, and wanted a safe future for my children and me. He is now waiting for us in state as we continue navigating the legal process that stands between us and being together as a family. My dream has always been simple: A safe home. A stable life. A future where my children can grow without fear. But because our situation crosses international borders, the process is complicated. My son has a path toward obtaining country citizenship through his connection to the country through the proper legal process. My daughter's situation is more complicated because she is a country citizen, and bringing her to the country requires navigating additional legal requirements. So even after escaping the immediate danger, the battle continued. I escaped the relationship. I survived the abuse. But I am still fighting for my children to come home.

For years I questioned what I was doing wrong and how someone who loved me could be so comfortable hurting me. But they didn’t hit me so I never looked at it as DV or myself as a victim. Through different type of relationships, it was a revolving door, but they didn’t hit me so I wasn’t a victim. Until my last relationship. In 3 1/2 years, he put his hands on me once, but if I had just let him leave, he wouldn’t have done it. For the longest time, he was planting it into my head that I was the issue. The good times were really good so I overlooked the bad cause I loved him more than I loved myself in that moment. The way he loved my kids (who were not his) also kept me around for a lot longer than I should have. I planned a life with him in my head cause he was helping raise kids that weren’t his so he must be an amazing man to step up, until he started lacking. Then I realizing me being unhappy with him, was hurting my kids more than I knew. He made me believe that I was so “mentally unstable” no one would ever love me & that being 6ft down in a grave was the only way I was going to be able to get away from him. Then I left & I was so proud of myself. I started doing intensive therapy & working on myself & then the thoughts he planted in my head came back. “No one could ever love you the way I do because I was there for you in your lowest” & I broke the no contact & let him back in. Things were good at first, and then he would shove the past in my face & tell me how much he hated me & the verbal & mental abuse cycle began again. But this time, I knew better. I found out about mental & physical abuse, I did research, I was in groups & I was learning to love myself again. I had boundaries for the first time in a long time. And then I found out about the cheating a year prior while he was living at my house & the summer of the downward spiral had begun. I blocked him again & was so depressed, I began drowning it with alcohol. I felt my heart just break as this man had spent so much time accusing me of cheating while I was working to support my kids, just for him to turn around & do it to me. I almost lost everything & it took me losing 1 of my jobs to finally get back on track. I stopped drinking for a while, I found a better job, I spent more time with my kids & began re-evaluating what made me happy in life. I re-discovered my healthy boundaries, I was working more, I was laughing again & generally meaning it. I started talking to my friends about my feelings & where I was in life. For a year, things were going better (there’s always going to be the ups & downs but it was better). And then the 1 year of me blocking had come up & I caved & unblocked him on his birthday. At first it was to be petty, and then I found out he was seeing someone. I played it like I didn’t know anything, we hung out a few times & then the old him came out again but this time, I was in a better place & I knew what to accept & what to correct. I finally seen him being in my life was not good for me mentally & as much as I miss the him he pretended to be when we first met, I am learning to mourn the person who never existed. I don’t want to call him for every little thing anymore (good or bad). He doesn’t get access to me or my kids life anymore & I love the strong, independent female I am becoming. I’m so proud of the scars I’m healing & acknowledging that I’m human & I am going to have weak days that I might want to message him & I’m taking it 1 day at a time. Going from planning a future & a life with someone you thought was them to mourning someone who never actually existed is something most people will never understand (& I hope they never have too). Some days are easier than others & it’s ok to get lost as long as you find your way back to the track. I am strong because I have no other choice but I’m learning it’s ok to have weak days & I don’t always have to be so strong. Cry, scream, punching a pillow is healthy ways to let all of that out. I’m not perfect & I don’t have to be but I will be there for others going through this & let them know they’re not alone, it’s not their fault & they are very so much loved

I would like to help women ( or men) learn that you can overcome the difficulty of leaving Domestic Violence and start life , in my case, for the 1st time I was "married" for 20 years in the DV and have been out for 13 years. It is a difficult process, but worth the effort to give yourself your life.

It Ends With Us confirmed that I had made the right decision. After twelve years, I ended a marriage in which psychological abuse had begun to creep in. These are scars that no one can see, and one wonders if they’re even real. As a new mother in a different country, I was overwhelmed by everything that comes with it—but my husband's lack of emotional support and the verbal and psychological abuse rendered me invisible and pushed me down every day. All of this weighed heavily on me, I truly loved him. Voicing my struggles only made things harder: more anger, more abuse. I followed my heart, and now I can teach my child the importance of standing up for oneself. From the bottom of my heart: ¡gracias! Thank you for reflecting my strength in this movie. That first night away? The best sleep I’ve ever had.

No more feeling shame. The shame is my abuser's to bear. I was in an abusive relationship 7 years. She would Yell and throw items around the room. Tell me who I can and can't see, and where I could go. She would degrade me by playing on any insecurity I had. If I questioned her motives I was gas lighted to change my way of thinking. She would smack my chest and call it play fighting. She would convince me "I'm the only one who is looking out for you" she monitored where I was and how long I was there. I would hid in the bathroom, because I was terrified of her. She would convince me to cut people out of my life. She would manipulate me emotionally and physically. Everything was on her terms, she loved that I feared her. No more feeling afraid of speaking my truth. #yournotalone

I grew up in an abusive household where we constantly moved and lived with my mom’s boyfriends. I watched my mom from my earliest memory until she took her last breathe fall into the pattern of abuse. When I was 8 years old my mom chose to leave her abuser for the sake of me and my brother. But that didn’t stop him from coming back and making threats and eventually coming into our new home and killing her with my brother and I there. Watching it ends with us showed me a different perspective. It showed me that my mom tried to leave her Ryle for the sake of us, to try to end the pattern. Unfortunately she was unable to and we lost her. As a young adult now I’ve been in 2 relationships where there was violence and abuse and despite my fears I’ve been able to leave for my sake and the sake of my future kids. I know I deserve better, every women and man deserves better. Please don’t settle for a significant other that is abusive verbally or physically. You are worth so much more.

Good Day Everyone Reading and Thinking His Projection is Yours, The first thing that I think of is you are stronger than you know, smarter than your thought, and just a better person than the person that abused you. I come from a 30 year marriage to a sociopathic narcissist. There is good news in all this, there was 3 beautiful brillant successful 4.0 children out of it (a police officer, engineer, and systems engineer), and a 4.0 masters degree myself (in behavior analysis). However, it was a rediculously dangerous learning experience that was placed on me on my children from the systems that are suppose to protect you. I want all persons reading this to understand in full, first the domestic violence posters and numbers in every bathroom identify to call for help. But please, first identify all aspects around you, who and what your abuser is capable of, what the behavior and severity of that behavior is before your call, reach out or request a piece of paper called a restraining order. This is only paper and does not protect you or your children from being dead. Only you identifying your danger and safeguarding this protects your children and you from being dead. One thinks in a deceiving fashion that law enforcement interprets all laws the same and enforces them the same. This is not true. Many missing administrative oversights and quality assurance measures are not in place. Please also know, he can track your email addresses, your car, your phone, your job, your purchases, even via your kids. Departments are relying on 'good people' verses data specific quality measures which can allow the perpetrator to triangulate the law, state agencies, your family, friends, your profession, your job, to be inadvertantely controlled by them. My story began 30 years ago with small accounts on yelling, following me to my job, manipulating my friends and family, and extreme jeliousy about every accomplishment I made. To summarize, he began slowly, following to me job after each degree, manipulating my employees/hr, my friends/family. He even went so far as to turn in two states into CMS to try to shut down 2 ICF/IDD facilities. Within this time, black eyes were weekly normals, I once wore a baseball helmet to bed to help, locking me in my car/garage, holding me prisoner. holding my kids and family prisoner until he got what he wanted (generally money) was the norm. So many police reports were filed, restraining orders, one year restraining orders were in place. However, please know this is up the individual officers perceived knowledge, interpretation and experience and DA's not any identifiable interpretation of the law (although the federal law is the overreaching protective safeguard). To make a long story short, in 2012 I had a 500,000 life insurance policy and he hired a hit on my life to occur with a car accident which he pre-planned the 'lunch date' many months in advance. This occurred after I placed my first reporting to police of his abuse and he was arrested. After this, all episodes of aggression towards me included strangulation and attempts to place all his weight to crush my trachia. The second visible attempt, came one day in 2013/2014 when I arrived at work early one morning, and he drove by my nitro and fired a few rounds into the back of my vehicle. He then launched a full social smear campaign and he began to contact my supervisors, peers, entire state dd providers, and engaged his sister to do the same us wide to harrass, embarrass and ruin me as he so threatened daily to do. The third attempt to kill me involved him and his sister crafting a car accident which occurred that resulted in killing another women. This also involved the quite angered threat of a jeep, which was saved my life in the first crash he attempted to kill me in and is now mis-using the law to obtain money from. The bottom line is, take your kids, plan a new life and LEAVE NOW!!!!!!!. Protect and respect yourself your children. These types of persons are sociopaths and what they do does not make any form of common sense or beliefs. They are criminals and will not stop until they harm you and your kids. This man met me at the age of 5 in a chance encounter and I am still running away from him at the age of 48. Center yourself, get trauma therapy, keep your center and re-build yourself/life/children's future. God bless everyone that has been through these types of situations and god bless all that are going through this. Please know that there are people that believe in you and want nothing more than your success and beautiful brillant future of your children. You've got this!!! Please find knowledge and information helpful for your future success. God Bless!!!!

My ex-husband verbally, sexually, mentally and physically abused me during our marriage. He tried to force me to have sex with others for money and luckily I was able to prevent that from happening; but not with out consequence. A miscarriage during our marriage forced me to see a therapist and working with her for almost two years gave me the strength to leave. It’s been over 25 years since I left and I still live with PTSD stemming from the abuse. I have since remarried and have two teenage children. They were little I have always talked to them about what a healthy relationship is, how to recognize potentially abusive behavior and to say “NO MORE”. My kids talk to their friends about what they have learned at home. I speak about IPV/DV to youth groups and to their advisors about what to look for, how to deal with and provide resources for help. I will continue to say “NO MORE” until the day comes when we don’t have to say it.

Children are impressionable. Seeing your sibling mimic the aggressive behavior their parents do to each other and to us can make it seem okay for adults to act like this. Being the punching bag in the family is exhausting. If the parent doesn’t speak to the child that this isn’t okay behavior how will the child ever learn to not behave in this manner? South Asian culture has normalized domestic abuse and violence for so long it’s actually insane when you go to look at tv shows or movies. I can’t wait to move out and leave this toxic environment that I grew up in. Once I establish my career in nursing, I’m packing my bags.

Women CANNOT physically harm men to anywhere NEAR the same severity tht men can women. Full stop. Before I experienced abuse, I nvr used to be afraid of men. I used to think I could reasonably defend myself against all but the biggest, most muscular guys, tht I'd be able to put up a good fight if ever necessary. Turns out, I had no fucking idea what I was talking about. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EASILY HE CAN KILL YOU, SIS. Or cause a traumatic brain injury or rupture ur spleen or break out ur teeth or... You cannot imagine how quickly & effortlessly he can permanently. change. your. life. Do NOT fuck around, sis. RUN. Get. Out. NOW. .... countless women before you miscalculated their risk & many paid with their lives. Please PLEASE act with the urgency tht your LIFE deserves. I love you.

My story is long and sad as most abusive relationship stories. I will start with a little background info. I was born to teenage parents (babies themselves) having babies. I was the middle child. My mother was 16 when she had me. My older sister was 1 year older which puts my mother at 15 with her birth. Well my parents got married and both parents worked hard and played hard. Babies raising babies. My father went to work and never missed a day of work. You could say the same for my mother. Well I was raised in one town with one home and we did have a family setting in a beautiful coastal town. You could say it didn't prepare me for the real world which is filled with so much darkness. I had alot of difficulties with my older sister who played alot of games with me while growing up. She was to pick me up from work as we shared the only car as teenagers and she would make me walk home from work in the dark alot. I got engaged early into going to college and married my first husband at 20. No I wasn't pregnant. I was head over in love with what I thought was everything to me. He was handsome and smart. Unfortunately when your husband is good looking other women notice too. In this case it was the older sister who I never got along with. This time it turned out very traumatic because in a small town with everyone knowing your business this older sister had a five year affair with my husband and even came up pregnant with his child while married herself at the time. This husband told me he married the wrong sister. I was in alot of emotional pain with this huge family drama which my mother who was Catholic wanted noone to know our family secret. My sister was having my husband's child and they had a 5 year affair. I was heartbroken, made to be silenced given this was my sister, and this was the beginning of me shutting down and taking the abuse. So you could say I was taking emotional abuse at this point. Abandonment soon came from my parents because I divorced that husband which my parents didn't want to happen for fear I would tell our deep dark family secret. Oh did I mention we were living in a small town and drinking was big in my family. Without getting counseling for this emotional time and traumatic event I moved away from my less than supportive family and found my second mistake. How could I top my sister having my husband's child but I did. I dated alittle and then a man at work asked me out. I was numb and not looking for any relationship. This man drank and that was familiar to my family settings. But I didn't know he had a dark side very dark past. I started dating him steady and within a year I was engaged again. I thought he was going to be everything I wanted and needed. Love, a happy home, beautiful family with children and trust! I got engaged in Date in Oct we were married. The following March we had twin girls. Well in Date 2 we went to Location and everything with my second husband was always a plan because he lived a double life one I didn't unpeel until the 25th year of being married. This marriage was filled with physical, emotional and verbal abuse. I told you I topped the first disaster. My second husband liked the fact I had no family around and that would allow him to live his double life he had. One using me as a cover wife with cover kids and the second which is revealed when we moved to State as a gang member trafficking drugs and women. I know unbelievable. I never knew I was married to a gang member but in Date we went to Location and that was my first meeting you could say with his double life as he would use me as he met with his drug connections. I had no idea. In State I caught him with Nationalityoften which turned out to be Cartel. I couldn't believe it but then I caught him drug trafficking and then I caught the women which he was trafficking as well. This double life comes with alot of dangers you see they drug the girls and this I also experienced. As I was unpeeling this whole side to a man I obviously didn't know he would beat me up as I was started to go to the proper authorities for help. I even told the local police my husband was trafficking drugs with Nationalityand I was scared. I was calling so many times for help. The authorities are not well trained with Domestic Violence, because when they called back on my same cell phone all that did was put me in more danger and I couldn't speak up for help because he was sitting 5 feet from me at the time. I was beat up for going to the police. He knew my every move and I was sure I was going to die. He said he would burn the house down. As he was trafficking girls underage at local High Schools he felt no fear. He said he had power and could do what ever he wanted. Bragging it was the oldest profession. You see these traffickers/pimps don't fear the outdated laws or even the police. They are making billions with this now. The FBI told me it's a huge problem and they can't stop it frm growing. The women, girls and young kids involved in this aren't going to take the stand against the gangs and cartel. That's crazy then comes the actually threats I endured after the beatings. I was being poisoned by my own husband which I could feel right away as I started to vomit and my cancer doctor said I had leukemia. I was given cancer as my spouse was bragging he could do. He said some people get cancer some are given cancer. These gang members have chemicals and toxins that are unthinkable. Now living in paradise I was running down the street for help after being choked out and noone would help. Why would they get involved too dangerous. I called 13 times for the police. The more trafficking I witnessed and pieced together the more my danger to myself increased. Now he said of I didn't leave then he could traffic me. His exact words were I was sitting on a million dollars. You see these pimps/ traffickers only look at women and girls average age is 12 as money. SO many are doing it in State it's crazy. I watched cars - ubers driving young girls around the neighborhood stopping and dropping girls off for the sex buyers either at their private residence or in a private residence used as a brothel. Oh yeah a year earlier I was going to the cancer doctor from work running home and changing my clothes before the appointment to see my bed remade and shower wet midday. I thought it was for an affair. He was having an affair which is why he was poisoning me but he was using our own home as a private residence brothel. Big business. Millions made for all involved. The woman coming out of my home spoke no english and she said she was a realtor and had shown my house that day. I caught her coming out of my own home. I thought she was the mistress. She was a sex worker meeting the John at my house using my bed. I told you it was worse much worse. But abuse is never good no matter what degree it is. I was so broken I moved from State to State with this same husband thinking I was saving my marriage from that affair. Not until State did I learn that wasn't an affair but a huge trafficking multistate Jeffrey Epstein situation and now my life was in real danger because I was piecing human trafficking, sex trafficking and drug trafficking together. I didn't know the correct words for all this until I found myself getting into my first safehouse. Yes my first one. One of five! I was saved by myself because my own husband started to pimp me after drugging me and I was feeling so sick everyday. I went to the doctors and told my new doctor my spouse was hurting me and I didn't know why except he had a girlfriend. I saw my husband driving a brand new car past our house within a month of us moving to State. No withdrawal from our joint checking. How did he buy the car? I started intense detective work. I found the 12 girls names encrypted on his cell phone, saw the addresses he was sending them too, saw ads for Plenty of fish, FB, Craigslist and such. Still I didn't understand this all. Trafficking ?? Why would a man in his 60's which is what my husband was have so much to do with 12 girls. OMG not until 6 months later when I was saved with a safehouse in State, SPARCC did I really understand what was happening all around me. The Cartel threats to my car and children. The gang retaliation to my 4 cars, 5 safehouses and 8 cell phones. So anyone who says sex trafficking is no big deal a harmless profession didn't know my story because for that volume of money they will kill you making it look like an accident. I've had more vandalism to my car which goes undocumented by the police. You know there were years of abuse to the young girls for Jeffrey Epstein getting away with it. I called 13 times for help. I was beat up. Choked out which I was told in State was a felony 10 years. Restraining Order denied in State. I detailed the trafficking in State and Sate and left to survive this horrific story which I couldn't believe I wasn't protected more. The take away from this is that powerful men are sex trafficking and human trafficking all across America without any legal problems. Just as my husband bragged he had power and could do what he wanted. I overheard my husband telling strange men in State what I looked like naked and my bedroom habits. Horrified I called him into the house which we just purchased together for our third Chapter! I asked him what was he doing ? He said my cancer was in my brain now and I didn't hear him right . Gaslighting! So cleaver I started to second guess everything I was seeing and hearing. My leukemia was in my blood and not in my brain. I started to record my own home and such because I needed to know I wasn't loosing my mind. He told me I was but I didn't think I was. Then I heard tapes with his voice - why isn't she dead yet ? I know Name but she isn't- I did do that. OMG his girlfriend was now down here in State and they wanted me dead. OMG I wasn't saving my married I was being eliminated. Oh my how does he have all these other assets. I was an profession so I needed to know how he aquirred the new car- Red Cadillac with his Girlfriend on his lap. State Plates License Plate Number FL. Well that was the beginning of unpeeling a huge trafficking gang situation which started in City, State 1, then too City, State 2, then down to City, State 3. OMG I saw the shell companied encrypted on my husband's cell phone. Then I saw the addresses and names of the sex workers. I already witnessed the worker coming out of my own home back in State. Then I was whirling with OMG momemts. Piecing together so much. My husband had 3 boats all which he had unexplained situations happening. OMG then I remembered he cut the deck of the boat which on TV said was for drug mule smugling activity. OMG. I was seeing it too in State as I followed my husband without his knowing. As I explained I thought I was trying to unpeel an affair but now it was worse so much. I was vomiting again in State like State and I knew at this point it was from my bath products which were moved within the shower area letting me know someone was harming me. Why did my husband move me toState along with his GF ? Why not just divorce me in State ? OMG I was to be dead by now. The Leukemia I have isn't by chance and I could see the girl fiend he had. SO my detective mode increased and now I knew he was a drug mule for Cartel but the young girls I saw him with at a local high school that I didn't know what it was. Not until the sex workers at the first safehouse told me what I was married too ! OMG I was seeing it right! I was right! I called for help told the police I needed help and noone really did anything. I was seeing srug, sex and human trafficking. Why didn't I piece this sooner I asked myself. So I looked hard at all the State activity there it was. My husband was leaving work on half days and trafficking women and drugs in City, State 2 and City, State 4. I turned on the family locator and saw the City, State 4 activity. OMG. I was right with the degree of danger and how could my restraining order be denied I told the courts how he was harming me! I saw my husband meeting teachers who aere part of the underground network offering up kids from their school. Big money big business in State. You know I told 5 detectives up and down the East Coast as I ran and tried to hide from the Cartel and Gang who were chasing me in Various States. I needed help real help. I was run off the road. Vandalism to 4 cars. 2 flat tires in two months. 8 Cell phones compromised. Forced from my only home I owned leaving me homeless to sleep in my car. After 2 college degrees and seeing trafficking up close I was left to hide and sleep in Walmart parking lots just to survive. Five years of torture as these gang members continue to make billions from wealthy sex buyers. Men in communities hiding in plain site. Teachers, Lawyers, Judges, Doctors, Businessmen, Politicians, and yes even men in authority positions like policemen. I witnessed a policeman as a John in my own home in State. They came hard after me all, Cartel, Gangs, and Sex buyers. Judge in State, County Name denied my RO. WTH. I thought no I prayed to die. Please GOD take me now. I went to college to tell the twins what I was trying to live with in State and survive it. They didn't believe me, why should they I couldn't believe it was real and as big as it was. The underage girls I caught living in my boat in State were about 16 years old. Average age in State is 12. I went into a safe house my first one and the sex workers who were there taking refuge from an angry pimp/trafficker told me all about my husband. These women told me because they were sick of me talking about his Girlfriend. They researched his name with their connections and came back to the safehouse and we went for a ride to a park to discuss what was happening. They said I was clueless married to a dangerous man who was a gang member, Big Fish - trafficking drugs and women. OMG. I knew as sad as that was it was true because I was seeing that too. I was piecing it together with the same results. OMG. Now what I asked. They said I would be dead soon. Trafficking is so big in State it's everywhere. I went into a safehouse but soon they came for my adult children just as the sex workers warned me was going to happen. I left by their advise and went back to the worst human being on the planet. The man I married who was living a double life as a horrific trafficker selling women and girls. OMG then came all the memories of the unanswered events thru out the marriage. We went to Location and my husband went to the box seats, now I see why he supplied the girls and such. OMG. He made millions just as he bragged he would in 1997 but I thought he was drunk again. That's why I was seeing cars, houses and so much near my husband around him etc. Wow how this crime isn't stopped it beyond me. Big Business and many many involved. Fake Realtors using houses as brothels too, House cleaning service in State which isn't really house cleaning but brothel service. All around my husband was his gang team. No cell usuage and they lived near each other. Clever. Very Organized. Well I tell my story so everyone understands human and sex trafficking isn't done by nice men just having sex. They will kill for this greed. 150 Billion. Human Trafficking should be on everyone's mind to stop because it leads to poisoning, drugging, raping, trafficking, murder, unexplained accidents to your car. Like the day I was to have the wrong size brakes put on my car but they were in the right size box! Yes I know crazy story but it's true and every person in America should be very upset about just sex which isn't what this is! It's selling people and slavery which after a short time these victims can't get out of the life. It's a one way road. The need for public awareness with trafficking is needed now because it's as bad as the television shows it to be and worse. My husband now my ex got the house in State and really he got the millions too because he's not in jail. These pimps/traffickers don't go to jail. The laws need reform and the men writing the laws are the ones involved or know of a buddy who's involved. As my ex husband bragged man cannot govern man. He made millions as he said he would and never went to jail. Big Fish from City, State ....WOW. Many more details I discovered with this huge multistate operation.