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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.

No one should go through what I went through at the hands of my abuser. I found myself in a difficult situation after getting married to my ex-husband, who was and still is the title of one of the Magistrates Courts of that Country. I had a battered and traumatic experience all the 9 years of our marriage (experiences like having seven stitches done on my torn neck, being battered on a weekly basis with men’s leather belt and a big wooden cane made from tree he kept in his private room just for me; often times asked to go on my knees as an act of discipline or preparation to get beaten, internal bleeding, skin bruising, bleeding from my ears, noses, mouth; blows and punches to my face that spills blood from cuts) but because I loved him, his reputation, against the advice of many. I suffered in silence and lived in fear due to the threat to my life. The police failed me as they called him their boss. Escape! Say No More!!!

i was assaulted at Dateby my neighbor someone who we thought we could trust. and it was awful telling. i mean he never you know but yeah. and it happened for 2 years before i told anyone. he is still my neighbor and i still seem him sometimes. when i was younger it was a issue to where we got a protective order because he would wave at me. the cops wanted to arrest him but they said there wasn’t enough so i still have to see him. and i wasn’t okay for so long. i attempted and everything, i had bad ptsd, but im okay and im stronger than ever. and i have thought about it so much, but yk what, i don’t think if i could go back i wouldn’t change it because i stopped someone else from going through it. anyway, you will be okay

I was 7 the first time I was ever SA. I still remember every single thing about that day. I was so young that I didn’t know what was happening to me was wrong. But the family member who did it to me, he knew. I told my mom and she didn’t believe me. No one did. In fact, she started abusing me afterwards because I “lied to her”. I’m now 20, and have finally escaped from the awful life I lived, and now know what real love is supposed to feel like. Everyone has a voice, and if no one else has ever believed you, I DO, and i’m always here to listen to anyone. My instagram is instagram account is any of you guys ever need to talk or just need a safe space, because I know I did and I never had one.

It is important to clarify that in my case, this was not a romantic/sexual relationship – it was a teacher/student, mentor/mentee, falsified mother/daughter type of situation. She never had children and was trying to, in some ways, adopt me as her own. It is still considered domestic violence under the definition, though it is not the typical case. When I was a teenager in high school, I was in a very dark place mentally and contemplating suicide and needed to see someone. A trusted family member recommended a therapist to my mother. Although at the time I recalled not having good feelings about her – I felt distrustful vibes – I went to her for therapy for a few years. Primarily to please my mother and hopefully balance out my emotions in the process. The abuse, from a psychological standpoint, began when I saw her for therapy as a teenager, but I didn’t really become aware of that until I reconnected with her in my 30s – after the death of my brother. As a professional in the mental health field, she took advantage of my weakened mindset and spiritual views by manipulating me with her delusional state of being – she claimed to have strong spiritual power and a connection to God. Craving spiritual guidance and balance, she convinced me to live with her so she could become my true spiritual teacher. She gradually showed her true colors the longer we lived together in a mentor/mentee situation. She became more controlling of my every move and my time. She persuaded me to cut off from family and trusted friends – making me believe that she was the only one I could trust in the world. Truly isolating me from everyone who cared about me. The anger she displayed was terrifying. She became extremely unstable and even suicidal over time. Subjecting me to more mental, emotional, psychological, and spiritual abuse than I could ever write about. My gut, my instincts, told me this was an incredibly unhealthy situation after only a few months of living with her. Still, I had known her for almost two decades and she was a professional in the mental health field. Surely, she could be trusted to have my best interests in mind, right? She also had health issues and made sure I knew she needed me by using my genuine kindness and character against me to keep me attached. The tipping point was when I believed I truly saw her demonic side show itself visually. This person is claiming to be close to God. So witnessing her demonic behavior shook something in my mind. My inner voice said," She isn't who she says she is. Feel this in your heart. You need to get out!" The process was confusing and messy in my mind. I had been groomed to trust her since I was a teenager. Now in my 30s, I felt many conflicting feelings about leaving because of this. A friend of mine, who was also a medium, contacted me after performing an intercession and told me just how bad the situation was and that I needed to leave NOW. I felt this message deeply and acted on it right away. I called my one remaining friend to tell her I needed a place to go and fast. Luckily my friend accepted me with open arms. For so many years I felt guilty for leaving…like I was the one that messed everything up. Ha! The one friend that remained in my life was also who accepted me the day I needed out quickly. She was the most understanding and incredibly sympathetic person. I will always be grateful to her and her kindness! Unfortunately, my family was cut off early in my relationship, so they didn't know anything about my abuse for quite some time after I left. When I finally reached out to repair those familial relationships, they were understandably upset at her and comforting to me. I’m proud my family comforted me once I opened up to them. After almost everyone knew what had happened, they wholeheartedly supported me, and that was truly healing.

For years, I thought I had escaped the horrors of my childhood. My father’s overt abuse was a storm—loud, angry, impossible to ignore. So when I met him—the man who seemed so different—I thought I had finally found safety. He wasn’t my father. He didn’t yell or scream or raise a hand every other day. At first, he was kind, charming even. I thought everything was great. But over time, the cracks started to show. The cold, distant days where I felt like an inconvenience. The subtle digs and underhanded comments that weren’t enough to call mistreatment but were just enough to make me doubt myself. I’d lie awake at night, crying, unable to understand why I felt so anxious and stressed. I told myself it wasn’t that bad. After all, he wasn’t my father. Yet, deep down, I knew. I knew he could hurt me if I ever pushed too far, and that fear controlled me. As the years passed, the emotional manipulation evolved into something far darker. What started as control turned into sexual abuse. At first, I didn’t see it for what it was—maybe I didn’t want to see it. I clung to the idea that things would get better, that I could fix it, that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. But the progression was undeniable. I couldn’t look away anymore. By the time it ended, I found myself at a police station, hoping for justice, for someone to finally stand up for me. But nothing was done. Nothing. I left that station with no real resolution, but I did leave. That was the day I decided to start over. Healing wasn’t immediate. It’s still day by day. But now I get to choose what my days look like. I am no longer silent. I am no longer hiding. The mask I wore for years is gone, and I speak openly about what I endured, not because it’s easy, but because someone needs to hear it. Someone out there needs to know that they’re not alone, that their perfect-looking marriage may not be so perfect, and that they deserve better. I poured my story into a book, Book Title. It’s not just a story about abuse; it’s a call to recognize the subtle signs, to question the system that so often fails victims, and to challenge the way society dismisses our pain. I know how hard it is to rise, but I also know it’s possible. If you’re in that darkness, know this: you can rise too. Healing isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. And every day, you have the power to choose a better life. Because still, I rise. And so can you.

I have a confession. There are a lot of things that people don’t know about me. Some have seen me change drastically since 2015, but very few know what happened back then. Some people may only know me as how I am now, and it’s not something that everyone that I know now gets to learn about me. I am opening up here to share that there is Hope in Hell, even when I didn’t see it at that time. My hope is that I will tell my story of how I overcame what I went through and it will become someone’s guide. We know what this book is about, and you may wonder what happened in 2015 to change my life so drastically. In 2015, I was wrongfully arrested and charged after having a verbal dispute with my partner at that time. I can see how I was the target of the charges, after all, my partner was in a wheelchair at that time and looked oh so vulnerable. The landlord had been outside mowing the grass and “saw” through curtains that were closed, me assaulting my partner at the time, when what in reality happened was we were having a verbal disagreement over beer and weed. I was going to skip the details about the encounter with the cops, but perhaps this should be shared as well. At the time of my arrest I was staring “out” the window (again, curtains were closed) on the phone to a friend of mine, explaining that I had just got in an argument with my partner at the time and that the cops were on their way. I was fine with that, afterall, I didn’t do anything wrong. What I was unaware of, is what was said during that call to the cops. While I was on the phone, I was caught off guard, spun around, phone thrown and had my body thrown to the ground, with at least one cop kneeling on me. It was scary, I didn’t know at the time what was going on, I was caught off guard, I was scared, I was confused, of course I wiggled a bit trying to catch up to what was going on. [During my trial the cop testified they almost took out the baton to hit me. At this time, I was 5’5”, maybe 110 lbs? There was no need for any of this, they made it sound like I was much stronger and bigger than I was.] I remember laying there, looking at my partner begging him to tell them what really happened. But he didn’t say a word. Ended up sitting in a cop car for hours, a female cop mocking me as I cried. I tried to tell them I had proof on my phone that he had been violent in the past, but they didn’t care. I was the bad guy here. [Turns out they ended up reaching out to my parents to come and pick up my son, at that time he was about 6 years old and was in the office during most of the commotion.] The holding cell was not fun, a couple benches, a toilet and clear plastic wall along the back. A ton of people screaming and banging around. It was terrifying, and it didn’t matter what I told the cops when they interviewed me, they didn’t care. I ended up leaving after maybe 12 hours with 5 charges, and no way home. I recall trying to phone a friend, and it being about 3am-5am, and he would not answer. I was in the middle of downtown, with my shirt ripped and looking like something went terribly wrong, which it did. I didn’t have any money, and hoped for the best as I went and took the train to the bus station. I told the bus driver I was trying to get home and didn’t have any money. They could see I was in rough shape and thankfully let me ride the bus for free. I eventually got back to my parents house, it was a relief for sure. My partner at the time depended on me a lot as he was paralyzed from a previous car accident, and we texted back and forth a bit about trying to get me back home. I was ordered to stay away at that point, and after some convincing, I ended up going back to help him out. Little did I know, a friend of his called the cops on me again for breaching my order… and off I went to jail, AGAIN, and charged with the breach. At least this time I knew what to expect, and was able to calm a girl down in the holding cell. But what the fuck was going on!?! How did I end up here? You might think that introduction was full of “excitement”, but it does get “better”. When you hit that rock bottom, you lose everything, my son (who stayed with my parents), my house, everything, it makes you wonder. Trust me, at the moment I was so pissed off! I didn’t want to go to court mandated women's groups, I WAS NOT THE ABUSER. But in times like this, you gotta do what the court says, when the court says. Spoiler alert, this trial took forever to go on, and we were about to ask for it to be dismissed. However, the last day my ex-partner shows up and the trial goes ahead. I went to my trial and all court dates alone, no one offered to come with me, well one person did for my trial but bailed on me that morning. While waiting for the outcome, I sat in the court parking lot for 3 hours, waiting to see if I would go home that night. What would my parents say to my son if I didn’t return home that day? What would happen next? The judge found me guilty, I had to “play nice” and say good things about cops and all of it, and in the end I had 1 year of probation. I missed the “best” part, only a few years prior I had been working as a legal assistant, in the past volunteered for the cops, and also did security work. So again, how did I get to this place?! If we start back to when I was out of high school we can see a dangerous pattern emerge. Out of high school I worked for a security company that did concerts and events. I ended up going out of town to work with my co-workers, along with people from the same company but from another city. It was a huge event and we were there for the weekend. Everything was going well until the last night. I can’t recall what happened exactly that night, but I knew I had been sexually assaulted. I ended up waking up in a tent trailer, naked, alone, and had no idea what happened. When I exited this tent trailer, a larger male who had worked in my city started talking to me, which was odd, because I never talked to him before, he was a bit too friendly. I then put the limited pieces together that I had and realized I had been sexually assaulted. On the way back to town, I had messaged a friend telling them what happened, and they said they would meet me at my house. I was exhausted from the trip home, and all I really wanted was to take a shower and I did… this turned out to be a BIG mistake. I ended up going to the hospital that night and reporting the assault. The tests were taken, my clothes were taken by the cops, and what followed was police protocol, but no charges being laid, because he was close with everyone in the company, and had them on his side. I was interviewed multiple times by the police. I wasn’t driving at this time and only told my mom the bare minimum to get a ride to the police station. After the first interview at the station I was called in to be re-interviewed because the sound and/or video was not recording the first time. The second time I went in they said that my facts were not adding up, like how many people attended this big event. This second interview was some time after the actual incident, how was this small detail going to stay in my mind? This ended again like I said, with no charges to the suspect. This was a major distrust for me in the legal system, how could nothing be done? Plus, my company wasn’t going to fire him either, so I had to go. I lost my job after I was sexually assaulted. You may be wondering what this incident has to do with me ending up in jail approximately 10 years later? I think this was the catalyst that sent me down a dark path. After this incident, I figured, it would just be easier and better to just have a family of my own. I believed that I wouldn’t have to go through this again, I would be safe, and boy I was wrong. I met a guy on the good old site Site Name., and he ended up proposing to me online. This was not too long after the sexual assault. Of course I said yes at that time, I would be safe, and this became the beginning of the end for me. We ended up living together between my parents place and his parents place in another city. He wasn’t good at keeping a job, and everything he previously told me about was a lie. At that time, I didn’t see that as a red flag, it was just more annoying than anything else. We decided to have a baby. I ended up becoming pregnant, and we ended up back at his parents place because our current city just wasn’t working for us. Turns out things in the other city were much worse, he didn’t have luck with a job there, and his parents were going to kick us out. I tried to get work, but was unsuccessful at that time. We had no choice but to go back to my city. I had to call my parents to see if we could come back, they said yes, but I then told them I was pregnant, I mean they had to know somehow, and that’s how they found out. We moved back to town. We bounced around from place to place so many times because he would not be able to hold down a job. I was working at this time as a receptionist and my pay cheque would only go so far. We decided to get married and not be traditional, in fact after talking to people I worked with, we decided to have our wedding in my bosses basement about a month or two before my son was born. It was a cheap wedding, had co-workers who helped plan everything, we found a regular summer dress because I was pregnant and they were able to add little decorations to it, it turned out pretty nice. But of course I didn’t tell my family about the wedding, and we ended up getting married in the basement with my co-workers, a friend of his and a friend of mine as witnesses. Afterwards we went back to my parents like nothing happened, although my sister was suspicious because I had some intense makeup on, and a dress. But I never said anything. My family found out that I was legally married when my registration renewal papers came and the renewal month was not the same as everyone else’s. Oops, that confusion on how I would have a different renewal month was how everyone found out I now had a different last name, and we had gotten married. You may wonder, why didn’t I want my family to know? I just didn’t care to tell them at that time. I had a pretty bad history with my family from what I could remember. My childhood was not great at all, growing up I dealt with one of my parents being an alcoholic and the other one being physically violent to myself. I wanted to change my last name, because of my childhood I did not want to keep their last name, I wanted to not be part of that anymore. Today I still hold my ex-husband's last name, same as my sons, and only because I will NEVER go back to my maiden name. One would think that this sounds like my happily ever after. And that's far from what took place. I recall a time I went on my laptop and had found out that he had been on Site Namewith another girl and seeing her naked on camera. I was furious! I don’t recall much except an argument that happened. My son was born July, 2008. Things seemed fine, I didn’t know how to take care of a baby, this was new to me and my new husband. Of course, he was still not working. Since he never worked, we always jumped from house to house, getting evicted everytime the landlord found out we couldn’t pay rent. It is now easier to see the red flags pile up. I recall another incident, I can’t remember the context, but it was after my son was born, my husband ended up ramming one of those brick cell phones down on my skull. Another time at that same location he got mad at me and kicked me in the stomach and I fell backwards through a door onto the bed. This time I grabbed my son, without his shoes or anything and took him to my parents house. I remember texting a good friend of mine at the time, ‘if anything happens to me, Name did it.’ The details after this are a bit fuzzy because it did happen back in 2008, but we stayed together a bit longer. It would have been 2009 when the other incidents occurred. I had another job as a security guard, and my husband was to take care of our son while I was at work, and work when I was at home. Of course he didn’t work, but I did. One night I got home late, apparently awoke him from his sleep and he threatened to slit my throat and ensure my son didn’t have a mother anymore. But for some reason I stayed. Sometime around this situation, he was kicked out of my parents house and living in the backyard in a tent. One day I go to work, can’t find my husband, keep trying to text him, and nothing. It was very strange, and even my electronics were gone. Turns out the pawnshop had them and because we were married there was nothing I could do to get them back. I eventually “found” my husband, and he claimed that he ended up in ANOTHER city, buying me jewelry. I couldn’t believe that for a minute, nothing about this story made sense, especially since he didn’t drive. I then took that opportunity to go to the police and report what had happened. I was able to easily obtain an EPO, emergency protection order, and get the parenting and everything started. Of course someone like my ex-husband would not take my choice lightly and he decided to ignore the orders and constantly call me ALL the time, as it was a breach of the order, I was able to call the cops and report him. Even when the officer was at my house talking to me, he STILL kept calling. Let me get one thing straight, even with all these charges against him, nothing was ever done. In the end he was arrested once, but released on his own with a promise to appear, did he show up? Of course not. I remember getting a call from victim services (I believe), and they let me know that my ex-husband did not show up for his court date. They were unable to give me any specifics as to where he was arrested or anything. I went to the police office near my house and desperately tried to find out where he was arrested. I was terrified of him coming back. Luckily I found out there was no record of him being arrested in Location. I believe I was only told this because we had the same last name, and he was using my parents address. What took place next was a lot of court dates, and trying to figure out how my ex-husband could be served these documents. I knew where his parents lived, and luckily was able to get a substitutional service order where I was allowed to serve him via registered mail. He never attended a single court date. We had court dates for the parenting order, the divorce, child support order, and he never showed up, time after time. Still to this date he has never paid a cent in child support. Our son is 15 now, and has never talked to his biological father, or his grandparents on his fathers side. His sisters reached out a few years ago, they thought they would be mad at me if they reached out sooner. When this all happened they were around 10 years old maybe? I didn’t blame them for anything their brother did. We don’t really talk much, but do have each other on Facebook. One of his sisters is still trying to help me get information so the government can enforce my child support order. After my ex-husband was gone, eventually I decided to date again. I dated a guy named A.P. I always thought this was my one relationship that didn’t go sideways. But looking back, there were a ton of red flags. I would always buy him cigarettes, I even ended up going around to different pharmacies trying to get T1’s (Tylenol Ones), because he was addicted to taking them, there was a handful of times he tried to convince me to start smoking, wanted me to start taking T1’s for NO REASON, and other times he wanted me to start smoking weed. Aside from these behaviors I listed, everything else was good, which was why I think I misled myself into believing this was a healthy relationship which it was not. After this relationship was a guy named Initials. Now I thought with this relationship I had figured out what went wrong in the last ones, and tried to fix those issues before they could arise. I had laid down some boundaries and figured that was all I had to do. Now it turns out that what I witnessed in the relationship and what he witnessed in the relationship were two different things. Years later I found out that he was addicted to harder drugs and was using them at the time we were seeing each other. Perhaps this explains some of the behaviors, but it doesn’t excuse them. Somehow throughout this relationship, I ended up splitting open my head off of my nightstand, he destroyed my TV by punching it, I had a fractured rib, and a fractured foot. I can not recall the exact details of this relationship and how the events took place as it was really short lived. Eventually he took off and never responded to me again. I ended up going to court alone, because the landlord was trying to evict us. It was all so much for me to deal with… alone. Of course though, I didn’t want this to be the end, and when I did end up hearing from him by text, I said I could try and put our stuff in storage. Luckily for me, that idea didn’t go through, and I had to just give away the majority of our items. The following guy I ended up seeing, his name was Initials, for the life of me I cannot remember his last name, though this relationship was quite a memorable one, but for all the wrong reasons. Luckily for my son and I, we had not moved in with this ex by the time we separated. We were having plans on moving out of the city to move into an apartment with him, but for some reason it just didn’t work as planned. Aside from our usual arguments and deciding we were separating or staying together, we did have one large incident which ended everything as it were. We had been out of town for the weekend and were having a decent time, but something still seemed off. He wasn’t too open to explaining what was going on with him, and I really didn’t just want to leave it at that. It was our last day being out of town and we had gotten into a verbal argument, but instead of it just staying verbal, it turned into a life changing event. I ended up having the left side of my body slammed into a door numerous times. After the incident, he took off and decided to walk back to his town. As I was further from my city, I decided to leave right then as the pain was getting bad and I still had a while to travel. I remember stopping at a rest stop because I couldn’t keep driving and my knee was so bad. I got home and then met up with a friend to discuss what had happened. We thought that was about the extent of it and I would be better in no time. Except, that didn’t happen. I ended up going to a hospital to get them to check out my knee, they had said I had fluid in my knee, and would need a needle to drain the liquid if it didn’t get better. It was when I went to physio that I was told that the muscle was ripped off my knee cap, and that is why I couldn’t walk on that leg. I would say this was almost 10 years ago? Still to this day I can’t drive long distances without my knee swelling up, my knee is in pain during the winter and colder months, and overall bothers me a lot more often than I would like. I have done the CT scans, another one where I needed to take some kind of radiation drink, x-rays, ultrasounds, you name it, and there is nothing they can do to provide me any relief. I can exercise all I want and try to strengthen my knee, but my last physiotherapist said my knee cap is more like a train that fell off the tracks. I did end up reporting this to the RCMP, and well I have never heard back. The last time I heard, they were still trying to locate my ex as he might have fled the province. There was only a police report, no formal charges. Since it took so long, and an incident with my next partner took place around this time, I forgot to keep following up and they never let me know what happened. One would think I may have clued into what was going on and the pattern that I was in the middle of. But I wasn’t. There was one last lesson to learn before everything would change in my world. My last ex was Initials, and this is the one I mentioned in the beginning. It was this relationship that took everything away from me. I already mentioned about the arrest in 2015, but there was more to the relationship than just that. I remember one night when we were in our first place we had together, he tried to suffocate me while we were in bed. I ended up calling the police on this, and they talked to him, they talked to me, and nothing was ever done. We did end up getting kicked out of the condo because they didn’t like the fact that the cops were called to the building. I recall a time when we were driving, I believe we were coming back into town, and for some reason he got really angry and started hitting me and scratching me while I drove. I stopped the car immediately in a safe area and was wondering where the nearest RCMP station was, because I was not going to accept this behavior. We were pretty much in the middle of nowhere, but I remember going to the nearest town gas station I could find and see if they knew where the nearest RCMP office was. I looked like a disaster, had been crying, in rough shape on my arms, and they never asked me if I was okay or needed anything. Which can be slightly strange as I was buying first aid items and asking for the nearest RCMP station. Anyways, I never ended up finding an RCMP station that day, I did however take photos. Photos that never meant anything to the police when they would later come back to my door. There was one last minor incident before my arrest, but it had to do with him. He seemed to be suicidal and claimed he took all these pills, so I was scared, called 911 to get the police and paramedics to come over, again nothing happend except them showing up and assessing the situation. It was on me to call back if the situation got worse. It was shortly after this when I was arrested. I lost everything, and that’s when I had no choice but to start over. I was angry and hated the fact I was wrongfully arrested and charged, I hated the fact I was now court mandated to take courses. I lost my son due to me being upset when family services came over to talk. I had what seemed to be the worst case worker there. She would tell me I was lying to her, and then find out I was right all along. I had numerous tasks I had to complete before I could stay with my son again. At this time I was homeless, living out of hotels, when the money ran out I could stay at my parents lake place, but had to leave and go to their home when my son and them wanted to go visit the lake. Eventually I had a basement suite that my parents rented for me, and finally ended up back with my parents and my son, with family services closing the file. But in the end, I really enjoyed the court mandated women's group, and I stayed an additional month. I learnt more about boundaries, gaslighting, and met with other women who had been in similar situations. For once, I didn’t feel alone, there were others out there, there were others like me. It took awhile, but I had realized that one of the biggest problems I had was I was moving in too soon with guys. The main cause of this at the time was I was trying to get out of my parents house because I did not like staying where one parent was always drinking. I have now decided that I would not move in with someone unless it was my own place, so I would not be stranded again with my son. It sounds like a good plan, right? But not when I was left with C-PTSD (Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), the trauma, being terrified of males, being terrified of cops, everything eventually crashed down on me. I had to go through a lot of therapy, and I mean years of therapy and trying to find the right person to work with. It was much harder since the last time I had worked was 2012, so it was a much longer process than if I was paying myself. After the therapy, counseling, ART (Accelerated Resolution Therapy) and learning about spirituality, I started to feel much better. I wasn’t confident yet to have a relationship with anyone, but I felt like myself again. For a long time I didn’t know who I was without being in a relationship. What did I enjoy doing? What did I want to do? Who was I? How old was I? Slowly I began to find things I enjoyed doing, and things were looking up for me. Another major player in this recovery of mine was joining a CoDA (Codependents Anonymous) group, this was because looking back, a lot of my behaviors in the past were codependent. My behaviors went from pleasing people, to being afraid to get people angry, to focusing more on others than what I enjoyed, not wanting to cause problems and more. I have been part of this group for almost two years, and I think if anything, this is what might save my life. I now have gone through a step study, admitted what I had done in my past, made amends where necessary and now feel confident in being able to be in a relationship without falling back into these old patterns. It was a friend of mine who said, "If you don’t love yourself, how could anyone else?” The statement was a shock, but only once I started healing this part of myself did I understand what she meant. People tend to treat you, how you treat yourself. Now people will know I don’t take any shit from anyone, I am not afraid to lose anyone who does not support my highest good, and I am blunt and mean what I say. Now I feel like I come from a place of authenticity. I will not lose everything for anyone ever again. Recently I was diagnosed with ADHD, and getting this diagnosis has been eye opening for me. I can see how things in my past may have been influenced by my disorder and me not knowing about it. As much as I wish I had been diagnosed sooner, I am grateful to know now. I can now work with my brain and not against it. For me, it’s been a relief knowing that some things I have struggled with all my life were not because I was lazy, but because I literally had an “illness” I didn’t know about. The more I learn about ADHD and the more I recognize those patterns in me, the stronger I become. I have taken back my power, I feel stronger than I ever have before. I am not dating right now, and that is because dating has changed dramatically since all this took place. I don’t even know where to turn these days. That can wait for now. I have taken courses, earned certificates, and I now am working as an independent contractor and now have a business of my own. It took a long time, but in the end it was worth it. I really hate it when people say, ‘things always happen for a reason’, perhaps they are right here. I went through that to find out how strong I am, and for me to now be able to support others in similar situations. I have recently become a Certified PAIL Coach, and want my main focus to be on supporting domestic violence survivors and those going through divorce. As an intuitive empath, this is the perfect place for me to be. As I stated in the beginning, I want my story to be one that inspires others. If I could do all this alone, anyone can. Never did I ever think I would get to where I am now. I share my story to show that there is ‘hope in hell’. It is hard to see when you are in the middle of a situation that is destroying you, but you can overcome it. You can become more than you thought you can when you put your mind to it and make that decision to change for the better. “Growth comes from chaos, not order.” When things remain the same, you get the same outcome. If there is one thing you get from my story, please know that you are not alone. Do not be afraid to reach out. There are people that want to help you, even if they don’t know you personally. I wish I knew all this when I went through my trauma… or let’s call it my journey. “No I won’t stay silent so you can stay comfortable.” Name

When I was in my early to mid 20s, I experienced my first serious relationship. It took me more than 2 years to notice I was being manipulated, gaslighted, and psychologically abused. I lost myself in that relationship, I felt like a different person, constantly depressed, and lacking self love. My firsts attempts in getting out of that relationship were useless, he manipulated me into believing I was the problem and that I was the one who needed to change. I was cheated on multiple times, he didn’t want to say end time sith me or my family. I always founf myself making up excuses for him. He made me think that everything was my fault and that I was asking for too much of him. When I decided to leave him, he made me feel like I was the problem and like I was a burden to him. It’s hard to identify when the abuse is psychological, you’re not crazy, you’re not wrong for asking for attention, for dates, for quality time, which I never had with him. Don’t let anyone, humiliate, control, gaslight, or diminish you! You deserve love, support, peace, attention, RESPECT! Try to identify the red flags on that questionable relationship, it’ll get better and it’s never too late.

Hi there, To anyone still in an abusive or toxic relationship, or healing from one like I am — I want you to know that you are strong enough to break free and to heal. It’s important to remember that none of this is your fault. You don’t have to go through this alone. Speak up, ask for help, and believe in yourself again. I was in an abusive relationship for 8.5 years, and it’s been 9 years since, the time it took me to realize that this isn’t something you have to face by yourself. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self this! Please don’t keep it a secret. People will listen, and you will find your way out and begin to heal. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, tell you otherwise. You deserve to be safe, happy, and free. ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

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.

Hello, my name isNamethank you so very much for the opportunity to speak my truth. I got into my first abusive relationship when I was 17. The abuse started when he used jealousy as a way to control me. we had a daughter together and shortly after became pregnant again. One day when I was with a friend, we rean into some of his rivals and he got so mad he beat me kicking me and punching me. the next morning, I had started bleeding really bad and had miscarried. A lot of the time we were together he was locked up and released and locked ack up. One day he had punched me so hard in the stomach and chest area that he knocked out all my air and I couldn't speak but I was barking almost like a dog. my daughter and I were thrown out and lived different places even at one time under a tree. Another time while I was driving, and he sat in the passenger seat he punched me on the side of my head my head hit the window, and I crashed the car it hurt for like a year. After five and a half years of this and after he sexually assaulted me. I ended the relationship. His mother tried to get me to come back so did his dad, but I told her no. Time went by I stayed to myself and my little girl we had a 1-bedroom apartment and without any real support around and little money for food and no car I had to speak to some of the neighbors. that's when I met my second abuser and the father of my youngest daughter and without really knowing what I did wrong in the first relationship I found myself in another, he had a job he was attentive he was kind to every one of the neighbors and even though I didn't want to be in a relationship here I was and. his family really liked me too so that felt good. my daughter was happy, and we had food and felt safe at night until we didn't things changed when I found out he was cheating, and I went to his mom's house to break up with him that's when he went for the knives in the kitchen his mom and dad had been woken up by my daughter who at 4 years old went running and screaming. his parents were able to stop him, and he left after a physical altercation with his dad. So that moment I knew leaving was a bad idea because it could get me killed. the abuse continued throughout the pregnancy and more times than I can remember but it was even worse than the first. long story short I finally left after years of abuse, and he came to kill me one morning put the screwdriver to my chest and told me that he was sorry but that he has to kill me because he can't live without me. I used my knowledge of how he thought and used it to convince him that I understood why he had to kill me and that it's okay I understand I just asked two things one he doesn't let the girls see and two that he doesn't do it with a screwdriver. because that is meant for someone he hates and he loves me so if he loves me, he won't use it. this confused him he cried fell into my arms and I calmed him down and sent him back to his wife whom he had only married two weeks prior to this. He stalked me for years, but I had come to the mindset of I would rather be dead by him then continue to live tis way with him and told him those words. eventually he was locked up and more. I have spent the last 20 plus years advocating for women, men, and all youth and will continue to do so as a domestic violence advocate. if you are reading this you are more powerful than you know, and people care about you and its more than okay to ask for help silence empowers the abuser and does nothing for you. Love you, learn to enjoy your own company, and get out when it is safe to do so. When you are ready. Someone will help you never give up on you. you did nothing to deserve the abuse. it's not your fault. and as I always say in interviews and in my book, I'm working on Book Title Always Name

Dedication: To all of the women and children that are fighting domestic abuse. I witnessed domestic violence between my mother and her boyfriend every day from the age of 6 up until the age of 11. I witnessed brutal attacks, one time my mother actually stopped breathing. He was a very jealous man. He wanted me out the way as much as possible. He even resorted to breaking my dogs leg in a fit of rage. My mother became a victim of ‘cuckooing’ by a local gang and was introduced to drugs. Her boyfriend stole from them and my mother was kidnapped. We both had to go into protective living. I stayed with my nan for 2 months not knowing where my mother was or even if she was alive. The gang found my mothers boyfriend and beat him to an inch of his life. My mother was later given an ultimatum; Him or me. She chose me. After us he moved on to another family. Unfortunately those children weren’t so lucky. They all got split up by the care system. It has not been until these past couple of months that I have learned to accept what happened. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Confusion, anger and tears. I had to say goodbye to the innocent little girl that was once me. At a crucial time when my child brain was meant to be developing and understanding the world, I had to skip that part completely. I was quickly brought into an adults world. After it all ended I had to build a whole new foundation and create a whole new person. It was almost like Norma Jean transforming into Marilyn Monroe or Beyonce becoming her alter ego Sasha Fierce. Before this, I had no identity. At the age of 6 I was just starting to find my place in the world which was then quickly taken from me. It wouldn’t be until I was 17 that I would have to come face to face with my mothers abuser again. She came home one night in a complete drunken state with him in tow. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him that I was 17 not 7 anymore and I was not afraid of him and he couldn’t hurt us anymore. The police ended up escorting him away. My mother was always encouraging of me and always told me she believed in me and to believe in myself. That I am so grateful for. I am so grateful for life. Every day I would wake up and wonder if that day would be the day I died. I think the way I got through it was fight or flight. My body chose fight. I had a best friend at the time who I am still best friends with to this day. Her mother was also tackling her own demons at home, so our friendship grew closer. My mother ended up having a hard time coming to terms with dealing with what happened. She is unfortunately a shell of person he once was. The song by Jessie J – I Miss Her sums it up perfectly. She is still breathing but she is not really living.

If Only I knew… The most difficult trip I have ever made was traveling back from (Place to Place). It was in 2010, after spending a year in (place) where (Name) was on assignment, the children aged 12 and 4 and myself flew back to (place) because the father and husband we knew had a double life and abandoned us at the residence our oldest son would later call “a golden prison.” On the wee hours of our arrival in (place)in July 2009, (Name) dumped me in a separate room as a “slave.” The children and I found ourselves lost in the corridor when he locked himself in his room. Our entire world collapsed – I was shaking, it was impossible to take care of myself and the children- we spent the night together sobbing, without changing into our pajamas. We fell asleep mingling our tears. The next day, (Name) left for work before we woke up. I was ashamed to meet the house employees for the first time. Me, the wife of their “Boss,” I had no authority – It was the beginning of a year of hell! We were happy to go back, but I dreaded the questions of my neighbors, my colleagues, and friends who bid me goodbye thinking I would stay in (place) for the 3 years (Name) still had to spend there out of the 4 year- appointment to represent his organization. I did not want the plane to land. I felt safe up in the air because I did not know how I would be able to take care of the children’s needs without (Name). I did not know how we would survive without him because we were his dependents for visa, medical insurance, vacation, (Name) was the main provider. With a masters in Money and Finance, I had not yet found a decent job - my meager revenue as a temporary employee would not sustain us. I had no choice but to file for divorce when (Name) sent me a letter stating that our marriage was over and that I would be informed in due course. I struggled financially to pay for my legal fees and other various expenses for the children. I was drained emotionally to keep the children safe all while going to court and trying to look sane at work. I fought to stay afloat with the help of the Domestic Abuse office of my organization, my family, and a few resolute friends. The children and I are doing better today but it was a long road. If you can, please read the whole story in my first book, If Only I Knew, that came out on November 14, 2023. The link is below. https://www.amazon.com/If-Only-Knew-Elise-Priso/dp/B0CNKTN924?source=ps-sl-shoppingads-lpcontext&ref_=fplfs&psc=1&smid=ATVPDKIKX0DER

Was it really that bad? Healing after getting out can be a rollercoaster of emotions and self doubt. You're not alone, sharing your story helps others to stop being silenced out of shame. Sometimes the healing process is hard because we remember more, or feel what we tried not to feel. You don't have to worry about being believable, focus on your own healing journey because you lived it, and need to trust the process. Your story, and what you lived, is testimony enough.

I had a couple friends tell me about this guy that he was cool and i should talk to him. So we talked for about 3 weeks. on (Date)my life changed. The guy i met again wasn't the same guy i met weeks before. But i trusted him and just wanted to talk. He told me his mom wanted to meet me so i decided to go. his mom acted weird also. i said hi to her and she didnt say much back. this guy told me hey i want to show you where i sleep downstairs. i followed him down stairs and alot happened. he tried strangling me by pinning me up the door way by my neck and then he assaulted me. I walked home and i should have called 911 but sadly i didnt intill the next day i am so scared and lost now i cant trust anyone. I feel alone and not wanted by anyone. I have self harm but there was thoughts of it. I am calling today to talk to someone to get the help i need. never trust anyone from the internet they are up to no good.

We lost our family dog to domestic violence. Yes family, because he’s family to us. After that our abuser drained every single account, sold things, hid things, stalked us, and more. Then he left both me, and our child homeless and struggling a lot. What followed was zero help, and support from the police, DA, DV Unit, and the judges. In my wildest dreams I never imagined that nobody would help us. We spent 7 years waiting to get housed, and each day I think are they going to kick us out today, and will we have to sleep in our car again. Understandably that’s an extremely uneasy feeling, not to mention the toll all of these things have taken on our mental health. Yet another thing that isn’t taken seriously enough. Besides all of the abuse, including the post separation abuse, there’s coercive control, and our judicial system needs to acknowledge, and do something about this too. As parents we want to protect our children, but we can’t do that without help from our Congress. We can no longer rely on our individual states to properly help us. We need a nationwide Act that protects all victims of abuse, but this will not work unless there’s accountability. It must be required to be enforced this. We need a Serious Crime Act. I strongly believe that if the United Kingdom can enact this so can we. The day that I had to tell our child that her own dad abused, and killed her dog is something I will never forget. Everyone situation is different, but the one thing we have in common is we’ve experienced abuse. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, especially not on children.

It's no laughing matter. I'm no laughing matter. I don't know which is worse, the abuse I endured at the hands of someone I knew for 10 years or the utter joke it became for the city that it happened in. The joke, the filth I became. My head has never been clear enough to get out exactly what I'm trying to because it's filled with so many unanswered questions and the knowing that I could of been saved from years of pain, suffering, had anyone including the authorities taken what was happening to me seriously. I was married 6 weeks when I discovered the guy I married was nothing like he said. In fact he had been spending his nights on the computer and to this day it haunts me at the content he was watching. The next year I was subjected to numerous beatings. Twice his own apartment complexes managers either refused to give me help or lied to the police on his account. I was abused in my sleep , I suffered a tbi, no one would help me. He was so sick that beating on me made him happy and would try and get me to do things to him. I didn't know what to do because like i said no one including the police took me seriously or to this day 10 years later as I try to file on him,they are more concerned with "why did you go there" or "you're the one who didn't get her way in a domestic violence incident. " If this wasn't enough I moved over 3000 miles away and was told by City law enforcement that I now am responsible for their lies to social security. I had just got a home after swelling on both sides of my brain and had been trying to work on what happened to me however I took it very personal and I tried to end my life and ended up losing my home. I feel like I paid to be raped, I feel dirty, I feel useless. Over the 10 years since I have contacted City law enforcement hundreds of times a year, no joke, hundreds and nothing. They are still refusing to do anything to him even though I sit in my house with documented facts on what he did to me but no one cares to see it. It's emotionally destroying me, it hinders ever aspect of my life. I've had rape crisis case managers try and get answers, I've filled out every paper the Mayor's office sent me. I will get my hopes up and see an email from them and then like always, nothing. No one should be abused is what I say but this feeling of I deserved it consumes me and I'm always trying to explain why I don't. I'm obviously not through the healing process but I want what happened to me out there. I was never aware of the true evils in this world. Never knowing that the police too can cause so much pain but literally laugh it off. I Pray I find the answers I'm looking for. All I can say is my Faith in God was the only thing that kept me able to go. I was robbed, walked until my feet bled so much trauma that I know one day there will be peace. I do know together WE can and I'm so grateful to my AA group and other places I go. Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

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.

We found each other through Match.com. The first time I hugged her, it was electric. Her body fit against mine perfectly. Being in an area where there aren’t tons of Christians, we were excited that our values and beliefs aligned really well. I liked that she wasn’t materialistic. Both of us were pretty inexperienced with relationships for being in our late 20s - she especially so. Her job involved high-level philanthropic work in the developing world, and I found that impressive and exciting, having previously taught English in a developing country myself. I imagined a life with her would be peaceful and would likely involve adventures together in Africa and Asia. She and I got engaged after eight months of dating, and we were married six months later. The first signs of physical abuse started less than a year after we married. We were having an argument in bed, and she used her feet to shove me out of the bed. Later came her first assault on me, when an argument culminated in her attacking me with her fists. Fits of punching me occurred three more times over the next 18 months. One of the times when she attacked me, she was driving a car and I was in the front passenger seat. We were going 40mph on a 4-lane road around a bend. It was very unsafe. Her violating my physical boundaries also included pinching my testicles and zits on my back after I told her it was painful, and it wasn’t ok. I wanted to share some examples of other abusive situations I endured as well. Once during an argument, she held a ladle over her head in a threatening way like she was going to hit me with it. Twice she banged on the bedroom door over and over after I had locked myself inside to put space between us when it was clear an argument was going badly. One of those times I called an emergency helpline. They stayed on the phone with me as I exited the room and left the house. Once she told me if we didn’t have a child by the time, she was a certain age, and then later we had a child born with disabilities or birth defects, she would blame me for that. She also tried guilting me for using condoms at a time when it was clear to me our relationship needed serious help before it’d be suitable to have a child together. I think these things count as reproductive abuse. Were there red flags? Looking back, I can say yes. One was her angry texts on occasions when I was running late to meet her. Another was that her mom, dad, and brother all said she was a handful as a child, particularly with her tantrums. I assumed that she had outgrown all of that by the time I met her. The final time she assaulted me was in an Airbnb while on vacation in Japan. By this point I had decided that if she got violent with me, I would basically not defend myself at all and would just let it happen. Part of her manhandling me in that Airbnb involved her trying to take my phone away from me. Had she succeeded at that, I would have been in serious trouble if I’d tried to flee. Soon after this happened, I made up my mind we needed to separate. She decided to get domestic violence treatment. I held out hope that if we lived apart for a while and she took her treatment seriously, we could resume our marriage. The second tipping point was when she violated the clearly laid-out terms of our separation by being aggressive toward me again when we got together at a public place (Chipotle) for dinner. That instance, combined with a phone call with a counselor named Name who is knowledgeable about dynamics of women abusing men, convinced me I needed to divorce her. She and I had been attending a Christian small group through our church. I had been a regular attender, and she had attended occasionally. When I initiated separating from her, she insisted on continuing to attend those small group meetings. We couldn’t both continue attending, so I let her have her way, and I stopped attending. This disconnected me from people I had gotten close to. Not one of those people reached out to me at any point after that. That was disappointing. There was a short period when I had made up my mind that I was going to divorce her, but I hadn’t yet figured out how I was going to tell her. I was seeing a counselor individually at that time (in addition to our couples counseling). He offered the idea I could tell her I was filing for divorce during a couples counseling session. For some reason that hadn’t occurred to me, but it was really helpful guidance. Considering her past violence, I was relieved to have the opportunity to break the news to her in a safe environment like a counseling session. (I informed the counselor in advance that I would be doing so.) The people closest to me were supportive of me taking our relationship problems very seriously, but they were also quite cautious about fully endorsing the idea of divorcing – even with knowing about the repeated violence. Reflecting back on this, I attribute their cautiousness about me divorcing both to gender-based double standards and to their Christian beliefs, which I shared. I don’t fault them for trying to help me make very, very, very sure that divorce was the right choice. However, considering that we didn’t have children, and considering how troubling her patterns of behavior were and her half-hearted demonstrations of taking responsibility for her actions, divorce was very obviously the right choice. I think that a personality disorder played a role in what I was experiencing from my ex, but at the time neither I nor the people closest to me offering advice recognized that. Speaking specifically about male DV victims, given that we can perceive men experiencing violence from their female partners as less serious than the other way around, I would say that men should be counseled to take even a single incidence of violence from their partner very, very seriously. Once an adult demonstrates they’re capable of totally losing their cool to the extent of physically lashing out, that is a bad sign about their capability of being a partner to you in a healthy relationship.An exception might apply if the person quickly takes responsibility (and remains consistent that their violence was wrong and not someone else’s fault), and then diligently implements measures to ensure they never do it again. The victim of violence should be educated that if there is any backsliding – with their partner shifting blame or not sticking to their treatment – they should end the relationship for good.