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It ended with me. I remember the day my mother slammed my head into the floor until I bled, I was 9. I remember her nails digging so deep into my arm that I hid the cuts and bruises they left, I was 12. I remember my dad protecting me as soon as he understood, I was 14. I remember it because I live it every day, even though it hasn’t happened in 6 years. A survivor is a survivor for the rest of their life, no one gets to take their strength away from them anymore. They know how much it’s worth.

I was young and naive. I didn't even know what rape was. I sought help from my friends only to be met with all of the "why didn't you...this?" or "why didn't you...that?" From that point on I blamed myself and never spoke about the rape. In my early adulthood, I had a coworker that recognized something in me and she asked me if I had been raped. She offered me support and resources. I still hadn't ever heard of any advocacy programs. At age 25, I applied for a new job working with child abuse victims. Little did I know, but they also worked with victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. I found my healing there and I continue to work there 31 years later. I found my healing and strength through educating the public and advocating for others. As I get older, I get bolder. I no longer fear sharing my story.

If you are reading this please know you are not alone. When I was 15 years old and had just gotten back from eating disorder treatment, I was lonely, lost, and vulnerable. I had zero sexual experience, in fact I had never had my first kiss yet. One night I went to a small party, and drank a lot without knowing my limits because I had never drank before. Long story short, I blacked out and only remember bits and pieces of the night. Unfortunately I have a few memories that I can never forget. A completely sober boy came to the party and ended up taking advantage of me. I remember waking up the next day in pain and I found blood all over my shorts. I convinced myself I asked for that to happen and it was my fault. As much as it disgust me to say, I even felt somewhat special that anybody would even find me attractive enough to have sex with. I was confused and didn’t understand. A lot happened after that night and I ultimately felt like a used piece of trash that had already been thrown out. It took me awhile to understand what had really happened to me. I’ve been working on my healing journey for years since that night, but still find myself struggling constantly. I still sometimes question if maybe I’m just being dramatic and im the only one to blame for what happened. I know deep down that’s not true, but it’a a difficult thing to process. Honestly, I am angry. I’m angry that this boy has never and will never take accountability and that he gets to live a life without the trauma and pain I feel everyday. I feel heartbroken for myself and all other victims who have experienced SA. My ultimate goal in sharing my story is that at least one person can relate and feel less lonely. I want them to realize that what happened to them is not their fault and I believe them. I hope you all know how important you are.

I didn't realise until over a year after the separation that the relationship I had been in for almost a decade was abusive. I was confused, I was lost, I doubted every thought and memory I had because that's what I'd been conditioned to do. He used to tell me I had a bad memory, that I remembered the incident wrongly; he would start an argument in the car on the way to what was supposed to be a pleasant gathering with friends; he would criticise me all the time and when I finally snapped and shouted at him to stop criticising, he said I was crazy. He didn't let me sleep a full night for 4 years after our baby was born, I was exhausted, I was extremely anxious about everything. I was in fight or flight mode all the time. The last straw was him shouting at our child all the time because he made a noise, because he made a mess, because of something. I know all this now, but I didn't understand what was happening at the time. I will still second guess myself if anyone vaguely questions my choice or my decision. I was strong before and I lost my voice. I'm fighting hard to get it back but post separation abuse is real and it's difficult when someone is constantly trying to invalidate you and dismiss your concerns. No more. We have to talk about it, join together and eradicate a permissiveness that allows victims to be suppressed and perpetrators to continue unchecked.

Feel guilty for being so affected by something that is no where near the horrible stories other people have shared. I wasn’t raped or beaten but my experience with a classmate that went to far, has shaped my life in a way I wish I could change, but don’t feel strong or courageous enough to do so. My story begins in 10th grade where my drama class (of 40 or 45 students and 3 teachers) was on our way to a trip from Location to Location 2by bus. My first mistake was to sit at the back of the bus because I thought it would be the quietest place on the bus, my second mistake was to take the window seat… At first most students in the back was high on red bull but when they crashed the whole bus got quiet and only 4/5 students was awake, one of them was the biggest and tallest guy at school, he sat down next to me and started talking about random stuff, I didn’t talk much cause I was afraid that some would wake up and be angry with me(I was never the popular kid at school, so I never wanted to step on anyone’s toes) I was extremely tired myself so I was just trying to stay awake to be polite and answered his questions. After a while he’s hand started to slowly move on to my lap, I pushed him off several times and asked him to stop because I really wanted to sleep, but he keep going and it just worsened for every time I pushed him off, he started be move his hands further up under my shirt and further down my pants. I was terrified to speak up because I knew no one would believe me if I said something. I was afraid that if the teachers found out about it, that they would blame me (of all the other girls on the buss why would he touch me?) . As I was trying to push I’m off, I got eye contact with a female classmate a few seats behind me on the other side of the buss, (she was one of hi’s really good friends) i tried to signal to her that I wasn’t comfortable with what he was doing, but she just lifted her hands and shoulders like she was saying ”what do you want me to do about it” And I just remember feeling like my whole body froze to ice after that. I don’t know for how long this whole episode lasted but it felt like an eternity, I couldn’t move, and couldn’t say anything, and that person who could have said something didn’t. I honestly don’t know what was worse, what he did or what she didn’t, I’ve never felt so violated or betrayed. That experience really affected me in a way that makes it really hard to trust other people, I have a hard time believing others, I have never had a boyfriend, I’m 29 now, but the fear of anyone getting to close to me gives me bad anxiety, because if I couldn’t stop a teenager from touching me in a buss wish 40 other students and 3 teachers, how could I ever stop an adult man if we are alone behind closed doors? I know not all men are like him, but i am just scared that if happens again that it won’t “just” be forceful touching but worse. And I think that, that’s what’s keeping me from the future that I otherwise would have loved to have. I wish I knew what it would fell like to get a kiss on the forehead, to hold someone hand or just the feeling of being safe with someone. I no longer use public transportation, but when I do have to get on a plane I always make sure to get the aisle seat, so that I can get away if someone gets too close. If you’ve read this far, I thank you for taking time to listening to my story, I’ve never talked about it before, I guess it’s much easier to tell complete strangers than some I know (for the fear of being judged) I want to heal that old wound but don’t quite know how to do so, I guess telling my story is the first step.

I awoke the morning of July 5th, year in a bed I don’t remember going to sleep in, next to a person I’d never even met. When someone violates your trust and your body they become a different person to you. Almost instantaneously. I had been in his bed with him before, but I really noticed it then. The voice I heard stung my ears, his laugh made me cringe. But it wasn’t that I knew right away what happened to me, and what he did was wrong. It was the fact I thought I made a mistake I had to live with forever. I thought it was a “misunderstanding”. The fact I didn’t say yes, I said no. I closed my legs. As I got up out of that bed, I have no memory until I was in my car driving home. When we talk about the combination of trauma brain and 27 28 probably at least six drinks in my system. All I wanted was a shower, maybe that would erase all of this. Maybe it was a mistake, people regret having sex all the time, not like this. I began to have panic attacks while I was alone or when his name came up. He later became very angry at me, and humiliated me. I was forced to engage in sex against my will. My very, very, stumbling, blurry, intoxicated will. I said no, why wasn’t that enough? Why was that the first time I did that with a man? Why did it feel like my heart was broken? Because my heart was broken. Trust violated, and I didn’t know how to tell anyone what happened. The person you used to call in these situations became the reason it happened. I never thought anyone would ever believe me. I also really didn’t identify it as anything other than a mistake, ick. The next day when I came home I proceeded to take off my American Eagle brand blue Jeans, White T-Shirt, and maroon-colored American Eagle sweater. I sat in the shower for an hour. Later that fall I found those clothes in the trunk of my car, that makes me think I remember even less than I do and that fucks with me. I donated that sweater about a year ago. I should have burned it. About two weeks before it happened, you told me that you were no longer attracted to me anymore. And that's fine. We were at a party. That party was for our friend, Name (Name is a story of another time), but I was intoxicated by the time you got to the party. I think I arrived at 4, and was too drunk to drive by 5pm. When you got to the party, I drunkenly told you how much I was attracted to you, and you rejected me. You told me that you were no longer attracted to me. In those words. But why would you then do this two weeks later, if you weren’t attracted to me, why sex? 29 The following spring, I had moved into an apartment with a few strangers, and that is when the memories started to really come back to me. Laying in bed one night, thinking about my experience, I casually G-O-O-G-L-E-D what is “non consensual oral sex”. The person that I am today cannot believe that I was in this much denial from all of this, that I had something done to my body and didn’t even know. When was it going to let me know? When this thought prompted, I knew I didn’t consent to what happened to me, but I didn’t want to admit that it was sexual assault. So what was I looking for? I wanted some middle-ground answer to pop up, an answer like, ‘you’re not wrong, but you weren’t sexually assaulted’ but there really is no in between. I acted as if my experience did not warrant the title of the experience of others that I thought might be “worse” than my situation. Non-consensual oral sex. What became of this fucked up search history that I’m sure someone somewhere can see what I”m looking up and say ‘damn, that’s fucked up’ what came up was R-A-P-E. I stared at the computer screen, started to shake and look over what sources and what people say, what the law and science says. That is an uncomfortable word. It doesn’t just come out, it is a dirty word that is said, and it doesn’t just come off the tongue, it sits there and lingers and anticipates the reaction you know is coming because the person you told also knows the person who harmed you. I looked at state law, by law, these dirty words I’d hate to make you uncomfortable to read, is rape. That was the most validation I had ever needed. I had issues with relationships after that. I had one bad memory from him, and all the other memories from him would shatter. This was unfortunately a common feeling for me because he attempted to rape me a few months back. Looking back, that was way worse than I ever imagined. Today I educate people that attempted rapes are almost as traumatic for your brain as the sexual assault. Your brain 30 recognizes the same thing, but in my mind, eventually my no was taken, so I had the power right? Why did he listen to me then? My body became uncomfortable in my own skin. I wanted a new body, one that had not been touched by yours, one that didn’t have your mouth on it, hands that did not touch yours, and gone through something, I'm sorry I can’t tell you everything because I don’t remember. You hear that? I don’t remember. I used to say, if someone that didn’t have my psyche came up to me and told me exactly what happened to me, happened to them, and then told me that they were unsure if the feelings they had in their own body, the only thing we truely own, the only thing we can truly love, I would say definitely it is sexual assault. I would probably be inquisitive to the fact that what they are telling me is in fact, sexual assault. I would tell myself that I didn’t consent, and that question would automatically be answered. But when it happens to yourself, you know that feeling. Again, the feeling of disgust, nothing has ever fit that feeing more and that was a fucked up comfort and validation that I had been looking for. Oh my god, someone else actually knows how I feel, it wasn’t just me, I am not completely and utterly alone with these thoughts. This was rape. If that word makes you uncomfortable, imagine how uncomfortable it makes me. It doesn’t slide off the tongue, it sits there and anticipates the reactions it knows is coming, because the person that you’re talking to also knows him. This person is also under the assumption you were still attracted to him, which is disgusting that you ever even took the time to entertain. Trauma is stored in the body. It’s unfortunately, and to me, accurately described as a rush of sharp energy that rages through my body, and makes me hypervigilant. Not only that, Every year, my body freaks out at the same time of year, every year my body freaks out with the warm weather. Around the time of year I met him, May or June. Unfortunately as this story continued, that became more and more relevant to my story and even morphed into other parts of 31 the year associated with him. Like we have fall time, attempted rape occurred. We have wintertime, a few days before christmas one year, attempted rape occurred. However, especially spring/summer time of year breaks me apart, and it has affected a lot of my physical relationships, and feeling of safety. I guess July 5th changed me. Changed me into the woman I am today, but I am happy to say the woman I am today helps others that need support and advocacy. Out of all this bad, all these years of feeling trapped, I am finally able to set some of myself free from what happened to me.

I’m always scared to share what I’ve been through. After 9 years of being in a physical and emotional abusive relationship, hiding what was being done, I finally realized how much damage was done to me. I just feel damaged. After ending the relationship I thought it was over. But the worse was yet to come. This man attacked me when I was 5 months pregnant, with my 4 year old was in my arms. He punched me, strangled me, dragged me by the throat into his home twice and he pulled a weapon. Never in my life have I felt like in that moment, me and my children were going to be taken off this earth. We are a year and half out, and the trial is coming to an end next week. And I’m a mix of emotions. I’m just beyond thankful that me and both my children made it out alive. Just know I want to heal, and I’m lost on how to do it.

I felt so alone until I watched it ends with us. It was the first movie I saw alone in a long time. I walked in thinking it was some sort of romantic comedy until I was watching the movie and realized I was lily bloom. I married the man that I thought was this incredible and passionate person, who only ended up cheating on me and physically and mentally abused me. The scene of being pushed and her thinking she fell is exactly what I experienced. Shortly after my own personal experience I realized I was pregnant and wanted so badly to fight for my marriage until ultimately I had no choice but to leave. I’m 8 months pregnant now and have had the hardest time connecting to the life inside of me until I watched this movie. When I saw lily setting up her baby’s room, and the words she said to Ryle in the hospital was exactly what I needed to accept what it is I am going through and realizing I will never go back to the abuse I endured. And truly it ends with me and my new baby that I have yet to meet. Thanks to this movie it gave me strength to set up things for my new baby. I gave him a new name. And I am ready for a new chapter in my life. Thank you to Justin baldoni for bringing awareness to people like me. I left the theatre crying not because I was sad but because God brought me alone to that theatre to watch this movie that I felt was made just for me…

I was sexually assaulted at the very young age of 7 by my biological brother,I didn't really understand at the time what was happening to me and I was also being SA by my adopted dad from the ages of 7-15.i started using drugs at 16 to cope with my depression but I've been clean and sober now for 2yrs,I would love to speak out to others about this organization and hope that it helps others heal, there are other parts of my story that I had left out bc of too much detail

I met a guy in 2018 and we got together after my grandmother died. After seeing each other a couple of times, the physical altercations started. Why I let it happen and stayed, I really could not tell you. I made 3 police reports but they were all eventually dismissed. We eventually moved in together and had a son. I did love him and he took care of me (I'm a type 1 diabetic). He was very sweet and always told me I was the most beautiful woman in the world. BUT he was very jealous and possessive and whenever we fought, he usually put his hands on me. I got a black eye, bruised ribs, scratches, bruises, a busted lip, a chipped tooth and many scars. In 2023, he passed away from a drug overdose. I was very sad but also I felt like I was now free. That sounds so awful but I didn't have to worry anymore about going somewhere he didn't want me to or talking to someone he didn't want me to or just doing anything he didn't want me to. Again, why did I stay? I did truly love him and other than that, I don't know.

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.

In the summer of 1985 I was 18yrs old and had just graduated high school and was headed to college in the fall. I was dating a guy and we were very much in love. Another guy I had dated briefly months before who broke it off with me, (he was 23) was throwing a party for Live Aid at his mom's house where he lived also. My boyfriend was working until 11:30pm so I went over about 9p to hang out with everyone until he arrived. The guy was making margaritas or daiquiris and I had a few. I was sitting in a chair watching TV and everyone else was in another room. The next thing I remember was waking up with the guy having sex with me. At that moment my boyfriend is coming down the hall calling my name. I call back to him and the guy gets up and dressed and ran out to my boyfriend. My boyfriend came into the room and dressed me and carried me out. I couldn't walk. After my boyfriend took me home and put me on my bed he went back to the house to do some damage to the guy but he was met at the door by the guy and his buddies and told my boyfriend that I "was chasing him all over the house naked and begging for him to have sex with me". My boyfriend believed it and it slowly destroyed our relationship and my life forever.

Ok it all started as at a friend on Facebook and then it went to messenger then it went to Zangi app there a a friend and another friend that are in danger and they show sign of self or want to harm theme slef their a group of uk bad boys where they are hurting people and my friend I tried to call the uk police and it was restricted.But why is it so hard for a perosn in USA to seek help to help a friend out in uk she want to harm herself all Becuse of those criminal out their they are trying to prevent me from helping me there a criminal group where my friend said it on location, city.there a group called uk bad boys they are a group of criminal out their harming my friends and they want me to pay a gift card for her safety pls messsge me back ok thank il talk more about my storie .

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 was just 10 years old when a family member decided it was okay to play "doctors and nurses with me" it was then when he started to sexually abuse me. I was so oblivious to what was going on, I didn't realise how wrong it was until I grew older, I thought it was normal as he was doing it to his sister too. I was told not to say anything it was a secret between us 3. I blocked it out of my memory until I left school, well I believed a blocked it out, but looking back now I think that is why my behaviour was so defiant. I was just always told I had ADHD/Autism was why I was naughty, but looking back now I think its because I still had to see his face. I eventually disclosed what happened to me once I had left school to a friend, someone I trusted. I needed to tell someone and that's when I really realised how wrong it was and it really hit me. It's surprising how something you push to the back of your mind and block out can really affect you psychologically still. I have 0 confidence and still don't know, I feel worthless, like a failure and I never feel good about myself, I really struggle too. When I disclosed my abuse to someone, it all went so fast, they helped me tell my parents and then my mum helped me reach out to the police. The local police in my area let me down, I realise I had no evidence, because it happened when I was 10 many times, but I still recall what happened, I was brought to a safe house where I had my interview, I felt violated all over again. the questions they asked me, it brought everything back. It didn't even make it to court the police came to the conclusion that it was "JUST A GAME BETWEEN TWO KIDS" they believe there was no maliciousness behind it - A Game - These words have stay with me since then and I can never shake them off, it was not just a game he knew what he was doing, he understood and had full capacity of what he was doing to me. He didn't even make it onto the register, even though he was doing it to his sister as well. The worst part is going though it at such a young age, then having the courage to speak out and then not being believed and told it was a game really affects me to this day, even though I don't like to show it does, I'm very much a girl who makes jokes and smiles all the time to get past the trauma, even having dark humour to cover up the hurt I feel inside, I have always let this abuse, being SA'd affect me. I can't have Sex with men, I feel broken and damaged, I want to be able to have fun but every time I go to have fun I close up and I physically struggle to have sex with men, and when I do have sex with them I do it to make them happy because I feel so bad about letting t hem down and failing as a partner. Maybe I haven't moved past my trauma as much I think I have. I think I still have a lot of healing to go. I recently encountered something at work, which again I was let down people that I thought would help me, I feel so hurt and so Alone. A couple months ago I was working in my local hospital It was my favourite job, I was helping people through chemo and there cancer treatment, I was, as many of my patients called me 'Their little ray of sunshine on a gloomy day' ☀️. I was working on a night shift and was approached by an agency worker who start talking to me, and me being me was nice to him and talking away, like I do with everyone I am a very friendly person and he took my being nice as a invitation to try it on with me, which I said no thank you. and he continued to touch me, and at one point got his man hood out which again I said 'No' he grabbed my hand to touch it, which I continued to say no, he told me keep to down, stay silent and feel what I was doing to him, I tried pulling my hand away. I went numb and started to just shut down. Luckily saved by the bell, someone was needing assistant and we were the only two working so he went and answered the bell and told me he will come back later, at the time I was heading on my break too sleep in the staff room, I was terrified to sleep, even though I locked the door so he couldn't get in I was so upset about what just happened, he said he would follow me home. I told the nurse in charge what had happened and he was moved to another ward in the hospital. They told me in order to do anything I need to write a statement and they could involve the police but I would have to go to court, do a statement, re live what happened, face him, which at the time I was just to traumatised to do because I wasn't believed last time anything happened and I couldn't face him, he was banned from the hospital and was not allowed to work in healthcare establishment after that, he then disappeared no one knew where he went or where he was. I took a few days off work for 'Mental health' as I got 'triggered' (I word I don't like to use) and I got penalised because of it. I have recently lost my job and I tried to fight my corner and had a tribunal due to me being off for sickness, the head of nursing turned around to me in the tribunal and told me 'Being off sick for the 'alleged sexual assault was not a good enough reason'. Again making me feel absolute shit as if she didn't believe me and my reason for being off which I only took a few days off to just try and sort my head out and find my worth made me feel like my reason was not validated and even if I was to take anything further regarding the SA in the hospital, they would not of supported to me anyways. Every day I am constantly having a battle in my head about being good enough. I get scared and also feel like I shouldn't share my story because what happened to me isn't half as bad as what some people have gone through. Did I lead them on? If only I wasn't too scared to speak up? Did I flirt with him or make him want me? questions I ask myself daily... I know I was only 10 but when people who are meant to be people you can trust and have authority tell you its a game, it does make me question still now to this day was it a game, a game that hurt me, and made me feel very uncomfortable and a game I didn't like, but still just a game between two. Law and Order and Olivia Benson (Mariska Hargitay) has saved my life, oddly it is my comfort show and helps me through some dark times and helped me understand and also know that it is wrong what happened to me. I also learnt its okay to share your story and it is always good to speak out about it, don't feel you're a burden or you're worthless, you are never alone there Is always someone out there that will be there for you. I am on a journey like everyone else that has suffered and been through some dark times and I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I am not alone, I think sharing my story will really help me feel less alone, I hope more people are able to speak up even if it is just through this. You are not Alone <3 sorry for such a long post

Where to begin because abuse and shame has always been a part of my being. But at 55 I've come so far and built so much on my own, I cant help but feel proud and somehow I still feel like I didnt make it. I was born to an unwed mother and was taken from her as a baby, in foster care for maybe 2 years maybe more, no one has ever told me the truth about that. My mother did go and get me, and she married my stepfather and he adopted me. My mothers parents despised my existence. I can clearly remember the first time I can recall speaking to my grandmother, I was about 4. I called her name because my mother had asked me to tell her something. I remember standing there petrified to call my grandmothers name. Something a child should never feel. I just knew she hated that I was even in her house, but yet I didnt know yet why I knew this. Being there was like torture for me and I didnt understand why until I was an adult. I just felt like they just were so bothered by me. I never felt comfort there and we visited them quite a bit. Growing up, my mother was no prize either, thank god for my dad and his family or I'd never known any kind of love. I was constantly told she wished she'd never had me, and was beaten up or neglected pretty badly, though she's say you should know what a beating is, which at the time was scary, as an adult it made me feel anger at her and sorry for her at the same time. It seems I was always chasing someone to love me. It was never just given to me aside from my dad's side. My whole life was a battle. I used to go to the neighbors house to get away from her yelling or insults to why was I like this and why couldnt I be more like that. I never felt like I was enough again not understanding it but hating how I felt. At the neighbors Id play with an older girl that molested me for a few years. And sadly I wanted the attention. I felt gross after though. And embarrassed of myself. In school I always felt like a weird kid, even though I had friends I believed they didn't really like me. Oddly I'm still friends with the same girls now, crazy how abuse and self esteem can destroy ones sense of self. I was sexually active by the time I was 14. Met my future husband at 15. He was a horrible boyfriend and on drugs when we met but I was happy to get the one night a week we'd hangout. He was 5 years older than me, had no business being with a 15 year old. But I had a boyfriend and that was all that mattered. My mom left when I was 13 so the abuse and nastiness only occurred when I was forced to visit her which I tried to avoid. But when I was 16 almost 17 she decided she wanted to be a mother again. Now I was taking care of life on my own for awhile. She insisted I break up with my boyfriend. We'd been together a year and a half, I wasnt breaking up with him. The fights got worse, they became physical, I was alot older and stronger now and at 17 I ran away to my boyfriends apartment. And the next month I was pregnant and in high school. More shame more embarrassment. But i married my boyfriend on prom weekend and I thought I was set. We had a beautiful baby boy, then another boy when I found out he was a heroin addict, I wasn't as all set as I thought. I tried to help him get clean and all that. But ultimately he chose drugs and I found out I was having our third son. We separated. 3 babies no dad. My family shook their head at me. My mother told me my grandparents would never accept me as a single mother or if i lived with another man. I couldnt figure out how to do it on my own. When my youngest was a year and a half maybe almost 2 my mother took my kids claiming she was helping me get on my feet, I wasnt allowed to see my kids for 18 months. I was devastated and lost. I took a job at a bar bartending and got caught up in that world of drinking and cocaine. I wasnt a big drinker or drug user but I wanted to belong to something and there I did. I met a guy though that helped me get my kids back and helped me get an apartment and I thought Id found the one. We were together 7 years total, and in that time he reminded me how he should of left me in the bar where he found me and I was damaged goods and what ever other name I could be called. He used to tell me all these guys think you are all that but I get to see how you look with no make up and how gross I was. Who would want that? He'd kick me while we were out in front of people. I always kept trying to be perfect enough but i never was. There was verbal and physical abuse for years but he accepted me and 3 kids and who'd want that? My mother would say I was lucky to have found him. The final straw was he was verbally abusing my oldest. He was awful to him and he was worth getting away from him. Years later I found the abuse so much more than I couldve imagined and I didnt get my kids out soon enough. I then dated a guy who was on the run from the cops, I found out. It didnt last long but long enough to have my face bashed in and end up in the hospital. And my oldest son went to live with my sister. Because I wasnt good enough to raise him. It was all good though. He was safe. From there it was on to baby dad number 2, a ladies man married and in the process of a divorce. He thought he was the shit. And I found out I was pregnant about a year into "dating" . I had that baby on my own. He denied it was his child. I was a slut to him, even though I wasnt. We worked together so I had to act like it wasnt his and the whole job questioned it. My 2 other sons had issues with school and getting in trouble so it was us and the baby and trying to keep them in line. I never felt more defeated. The new baby was about 6 months old and dad wanted to play daddy. By the time my youngest was 9 months old we'd moved in together after his begging to let him be a dad, as if I'd ever stopped him. We moved in together and within a month I caught him cheating with multiple women. WTF was I going to do now. I gave up my house and moved all the younger kids in. So I stayed. The 2 boys from my first marriage were in and out of juvie. The babys father held it over my head and threatened me with it. So I kept trying to make it work. And he kept cheating. But at his insistence, we tried for another baby, he said he'd stop cheating. We got pregnant with my daughter, and he kept cheating. I mean like he was on dating websites. It was insane. He was a narcissist. He cheated on me while I was having our daughter in the hospital. He was all day telling me if I were more like this or that he'd stop or he'd take my babies because of the trouble my boys were in. I was 2 months post partum and he said if i wasnt so fat he wouldnt cheat. Who says that? Couldnt I ever just have a normal family? Maybe I was damaged good as Id heard all those years ago. After back and forth moving across the country to try and fix this, moving back after the housing market crashed, right before my daughters first birthday I threw him out. Out of his own house. Go be with the girl and he did. And cheated on her. Years go by constant berating and belittling because now I'm the ex with the kids and suing him for support. Years of it, Didn't matter that I had court orders and full custody, he was going to tear me apart, sooo many texts. Saying the most vile things that could be said. For years. So in the meantime he'd lived with about 7-9 different women I lived alone with the kids. But wait there's more... I had a good life and my shit together, when along came the worst of the worst, a loud, mean, life of the party type guy that everyone outside loved and anyone that knew him closely despised. And now he's my boyfriend. And in the beginning he was the sweetest. He wined and dined me and was sweeping off of my feet. I deserved it! After all the years I found my guy. Secretly, and slowly he showed who he was. We were together 4 years. Lived together 18 months. I hated him when we lived together 6 months. He hated my daughter with a vengeance. He was outwardly verbally abusive to her once we lived together. And I was having no part of it and asked him to leave, he did not. Mind you there were 2 and a half years of abuse, more vile than my kids father said to me and once again I keep effing trying. So desperate for normal. So badly wanting a family and happiness. So I moved in with him. And I said he was torturous. And god forbid Id make him stop abusing me, it was when it was my child yet again I got out. But this one not so easy, I asked him to go and he didnt and I couldnt get him out because the landlord insisted on having his name on the lease. So he wouldnt leave. And verbally, mentally emotionally and financially put me through it. One year to the day I asked him to get out, he left. After a final year of literal torture, verbally abusing my daughter and eventually my autistic son, he left. And went on to say he left me. Haha. 2 years later I moved to a small beach town with my kids, I bought a home. Reconnecting with all those I lost in the years with him. Havent heard a word from him since. Finding my way. Learning to trust myself and others. Im a full on work in progress. But I can say the strength is within and if you choose to use it , life can be a beautiful.

I really see no point in talking about anything when law enforcement does nothing with this information. I’ve been waiting many years now. I leave my Apple phone in lockdown mode because of repeated Pegasus hacks on my cell phones over the years. There is no private and safe way I can report crime like this when my phones are repeatedly hacked. Organizations like this aren’t reporting anything to law enforcement to protect rape victims still experiencing crimes from a rapist stalking them to death their whole lives into isolation and inevitable suicide because of no help ever being given by anyone.

I do not know if it’s because I am a woman, because I am Hispanic, because I didn’t have Mommy and Daddy swooping in to shield me from accountability-probably a mix of all but one thing is true.. Evil Lives in Small Court Houses I am a survivor of domestic violence whose life has been destroyed not only by years of physical abuse, but also by coercive control, legal retaliation, and harassment that began the moment I tried to protect myself and my children. This is not a custody dispute. This is criminal misconduct, perjury, fraud, and public endangerment. The abuse began in 2021. I endured physical violence, including strangulation, intimidation, and control. In August 2024, after he slammed me into a wall with a door, I finally removed him from my home. That should have been the end. Instead, when the physical abuse stopped, the legal abuse began. Since then, I have faced relentless harassment. My ex and his attorney weaponized the courts, filing retaliatory restraining orders, false allegations, and motions designed to erase me as a mother. My own restraining order—based on police reports of injuries to me and my daughters—was denied without being heard. On the same day, they filed a retaliatory order against me. This wasn’t about safety. It was about control. Inside the courthouse, the abuse only escalated. I have been mocked, harassed, and threatened in open court. A bailiff physically covered my microphone and told me, “Stop talking or you’re going to lose your kids more.” When I pleaded with the court to recognize my daughter’s needs as a child on the spectrum, the commissioner mocked me: “I see you are crying, but I don’t see a single tear.” (with the most evil voice)As if I was acting. I have audio. What man in power says that to a mother losing her children? This wasn’t justice — it was cruelty, and it violated my rights. And I am not alone. Other parents in this courthouse describe the same treatment. The consequences have been devastating. Had my restraining order been approved back in November, I would still be with my daughters. I would still have my home. I would still have my business. Instead, my children have been withheld from me for over two months. I now live out of a bag after a self-help eviction, forced from my home while a retaliatory unlawful detainer is on appeal. I was coerced into signing a stipulation under distress, another example of being taken advantage of at every angle. The safety risks are undeniable. My ex is a convicted felon with multiple DUIs. He lied under oath about his firearms, refused to surrender them, and has since purchased more guns illegally. Meanwhile, his attorney impersonated an appellate court clerk—on audio—just to get my address. This is fraud. This is criminal. Yet the court has protected them while punishing me. This is not due process. This is coercive control—domestic violence that has evolved from fists to filings, from physical intimidation to psychological and legal warfare. My children have become pawns in a campaign to erase me. If the system had worked as it should, I would still be with my daughters, in my home, running my business. Instead, I am homeless, silenced, mocked, and still unprotected. Justice should be for all—not just for those who can afford a malevolent attorney willing to do anything to destroy the other parent. #tipswelcome #❤️

I want to share my experiences, as I have many times but never in print or where I can leave it for other survivors to read. I want you to know that you ARE better than the abuse you might be receiving. You ARE amazing. You ARE resilient and can absolutely do whatever you set your mind to. I was in an abusive relationship for 8 years. Of course the abuse started slowly, so slowly I could write it off as my fault or an accident. I lived with a friend at 21 and met the man who would eventually become my children's father. I remember telling my friend that he had shoved me on the bed, directly on my cat so I might hurt her too. I remember that friend telling me "He reminds me of my ex-husband, the one who broke my jaw for catching him cheating on me" and of course I didn't listen. Slowly the abuse got worse physically, mentally, emotionally. Eventually I started to fight back, not physically but would try to talk him down or just defend myself and he would rape me, as a point to show me who was still in control. I had out of body experiences- got knocked out by force- to wake up locked away in a hotel room with my keys gone and phone taken so I couldn't call for help. I loved him and couldn't bear to call the police on him- by this time I knew he was here illegally. I knew most of his family were here illegally. They would sit around the living room hearing me getting my ass handed to me and in the beginning I wondered why they wouldn't interfere- I later learned that if anyone interfered then my beating got worse because "you're cheating on me with HIM" or something similar. A couple years go by and most of my friends have moved on or were disgusted that I stayed with him- I was pretty good at hiding what was really going on because he loved hitting me where most people wouldn't see a bruise. I truly believed that I could help him, or fix him, because his childhood was rough growing up in the mountainous countryside of location and his father was abusive. Plus I knew that for the most part their women are brought up submissive, so it was all acceptable for a long time. I made excuses for him and he would cry to me and say "I know it's wrong but I can't help it, I watched it my whole life- watched my mother die because of my father." Plus he crossed the border when he was about 16 and was traumatized from that also. He just knew how to manipulate me and my emotions and for years I had no idea. I was attending college while pregnant at 25 and my classmates knew and tried to help me but I wasn't ready yet. Not until he hit me and split my eyebrow open with his fist when I was 6 months pregnant. My mom dragged me to the police station and wouldn't let me leave until I pressed charges against him. That was when she learned about my years of abuse- my family suspected but I was good at hiding it. It took me having my little girl - my saving grace, my reason for waking up back then- to learn I was better than the abuse I was getting. I realized that I didn't want her growing up in that kind of environment, never wanted her to think that any sort of abuse is okay or even remotely acceptable. That was when I started thinking about leaving him. That's when God shows up glaringly obvious to me then- he gets arrested. Finally I have one foot out the door. Then 2. Then I lose that apartment we were living in because I had been on HUD and he wasn't supposed to be there. I go back to my parents house with my 1 year old daughter. A year later I get pregnant once more by him. By this time I am self-medicating for depression/anxiety/PTSD and trying to fill that void left behind by him. He had introduced me to drugs and snorting pills during our relationship. I was struggling with answering/not answering the phone when he called and jumping when he asked for things. By all rights, my 2nd child should have been born with withdrawals and once again God showed up for me and my child. A month prior to her birth I went to church and without even knowing me that pastor spoke to my soul and him and his congregation healed my unborn child. Today my girls are age 1 &age 2years old and thriving. My little savior and miracle child. Their father was deported a few years ago and he stopped calling/checking in on our girls. They know what kind of person he was and how he treated me and they don't really want anything to do with him though they have attempted to reach him via FB because they want answers. They want to know why he doesn't try to call them anymore, why he hurt me. I have never wanted to be that parent who keeps their kids from the other parent. My mom struggles with that concept but honors it for them. I want my kids to decide whether they want him in their life or not though he seems to have made that choice for them. He has always been selfish. 18 years later I still struggle with my self worth, have struggled to stay clean. I am strong, I am resilient, I am a great mom. I love myself Most days. Most days I know my worth, though I have been in a relationship with someone I thought was perfect for me but now I struggle with whether or not this relationship is healthy.

There is something to be said about coercive convincing. Sometimes people can make an outwardly uncomfortable situation very appealing or just generally ok. It’s easier to fall trap to that when you know the person, think you know the person, have heard good things about the person from others you know, or you allow your curiosity to take over your instincts. You must learn to trust your gut. Don’t silence it. Be ok with their discomfort. You, your health, mentally and physically, are more important.