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After spending a year being single on purpose, I had decided that I was finally ready to invest myself in a relationship. The very next morning, I opened my phone to see a message from someone on Facebook asking me out on a date. Apparently they were following my photography page on Instagram and we had a mutual Facebook friend, and they decided they would shoot their shot. From the very beginning they were extremely funny, our sense of humor seemed to mesh really well, and they were easy to chat with. We met at a pub, and it seemed to go pretty well for a first date. It ended up getting crashed by their coworkers, so it turned into some drinks and karaoke. My cheeks hurt from laughing, they seemed really outgoing which I appreciated and their coworkers said really great things about them. On the second date we talked for hours - I felt like I had known them my entire life. No nervousness, I felt seen and accepted right away for who I was, and it was comfortable. It was a dream come true, which is how it felt for the first few months of the relationship. They appeared to check all of my boxes: self aware, empathetic, honest, open-minded. We fell in love quite quickly. The early signs of psychological and emotional abuse started within the first 6 months, but I didn't recognize it as abuse at the time. They were extremely jealous and would often say very hurtful and derogatory things about me. I'd catch them in lies and then they would break up with me stating indifferences in morals, but then would return the next day with heartfelt apologies and promises to work on their insecurities. I believed them. Of course I did, because I excused this behavior as a result of their trauma, the stress they were enduring at work, they were drunk, etc. I thought I could love them through it, so we made plans to move in with each other. That was when the insults, gaslighting, stonewalling worsened - and new aspects developed. Now I was being criticized daily, punished if I didn't tell them where I was going before leaving the house, threatened to send emails to my boss or intimate photos to my family, and my things would be written on with permanent marker or urinated on. That was when the violence started. I didn't feel safe in my own home because my things would get smashed and broken regularly. Police came to the house twice and told me if they came a 3rd time, they would make an arrest, so I ensured they never got called again. However, if I tried to call someone else for support I would get chased, held down, grabbed so I couldn't make the call. I locked myself in the bathroom once and the door was kicked down. I didn't see that as abuse at the time though, because they never hit me. I was so lost in this disillusionment of "love" that I thought they just needed my support, I needed to be more compassionate, I needed to love them better, that's what they told me anyways. This was my fault and I had to fix it. All areas of my life had been threatened: my home, my job, my relationships with my family, my pets, my safety, my health. I became extremely depressed and lost in a state of dissociation. My family became aware of some things (I kept most of it secret until near the end of the relationship, but there was much I wasn't able to hide), and they told me they feared for my life. I didn't respond, as that thought had crossed my mind already many times before and it no longer evoked a reaction in me. I was completely dissociated by this time and I had accepted the possibility. One night while I was driving, they grabbed the steering wheel and steered us into the ditch. That was when the fears became a reality for me. I started safety planning with the hopes that we could still make the relationship work. The trauma bond was strong. One night they started drinking and things were escalating, so I left the house and went to my sister's. In the past I would stay to ensure the things I loved most didn't get destroyed, or I would leave and sleep in my car - but this time I chose to see my family. I started getting text after text all hours throughout the night with horrible things being said. They hinted that my new kitten had "escaped" from the house, and my family had me back at the house, kitten and bags packed, and out the door in 20 minutes. At this point my family had seen everything and there was no turning back. Ending the relationship was confusing, because I didn't feel like I consciously made the choice myself. My family drafted my messages to kick them out of the house. I accepted it, because I just felt so drained and defeated by that point, I had absolutely nothing left to give. We continued to talk for a few months and both discussed how we missed each other and wished things could work, but I knew I could never go back to that, I didn't have the strength. My heart hurt and I definitely grieved - on the floor sobbing - for months on end because I truly felt as though this was my person, this was someone who I thought knew me and saw me for who I truly was. But the truth was, they didn't know me. They didn't even know the color of my eyes after 2 years together. I eventually realized I was grieving a version of them that didn't exist. I was grieving the life I thought we could have, the future family, the relationship that I thought we could work towards. I also realized I was grieving myself. My self esteem was diminished, I felt a huge loss of identity, I couldn't make a decision to save my life, I was exhausted and irritable and angry. I didn't recognize myself for a very, very long time. I felt betrayed and manipulated, and there was a lot of shame towards myself as I felt it was my fault for not seeing the signs or for somehow finding a way to make it work, or for staying as long as I did. I felt like I couldn't trust my judgment anymore. It's been two years now, and I am finally feeling closer to my old self. I struggled for a year and a half with my grief and learning that what I had gone through was abuse. I experienced survivor's guilt, hypervigilance, nightmares, depression, and panic attacks for months. I would start to feel better with the support of my therapist and the domestic violence specialist that I was working with, and a new trigger would happen or another development in my story would occur and I would be back at square one. I felt like I had no hope in finding myself again. I missed the person I used to be and it seemed impossible to ever shake these feelings. But even when I felt the most stuck, I still pressed forward. Even if that meant just making it to work that day, then staying in bed for the rest of the weekend. Or eating a piece of toast before bed if nothing else. Or attending the therapy appointment even if I didn't have the words. There would be weeks of darkness, but then I would have one day where I would cry and felt a little bit lighter. I would visit my family and a genuine laugh would escape my lips. It took very, very small steps, but I do believe I am finally at a place where I am surrounded by the light. I know there is still so much more work to be done, but once I started allowing myself to feel the anger, feel the hurt, feel the pain without shaming myself for it, things started getting better. Keep going - after everything you have survived, I know you can survive this.

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.

I got out of an abusive relationship. It wasn’t till I left there was physical abuse and emotional abuse. Even if the physical was minimal. I’m so glad to be apart of a group of women who are healing. Healing is hard, it’s been countless sleepless nights, extra periods, and nightmares over and over. But the reward of being free is so much better than anything I could’ve imagined. I don’t wish to ever be back in that, and am glad I left every day

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 believe that my ex-boyfriend, Name — a bodybuilder currently living in State — has been engaging in serious digital harassment, including hacking my devices, spoofing text messages, and attempting to make it appear that I sent messages I did not. I have also noticed individuals around me—such as neighbors or coworkers—acting in ways that seem coordinated, including color-coding, winking, and using specific terms like “widgets” when referring to my family. I have reported this situation to the police, but so far there has been insufficient evidence to link these incidents directly to him. If anyone else has experienced similar behavior from this person, please come forward and share your experience.

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.

I dated someone for 4 years and they were very abusive I forever wish I would’ve reported the abuse that went on but instead I kept quiet. I am forever thankful that I was able to wake up mentally one day and realize it was not fair to keep being with someone who was physically violent with me and that person did not love me. I am still recovering even years later from this but every day is a new journey and you have to take each day by day because it will get better.

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

My name is (Name) and this is my story. I have been abused for most of my life from childhood, well into my adult years. I never knew what gaslighting was or love bombing and other terms until I got older and realized what was happening. My mother did that for soo long it was all I knew and I thought it was “normal.” When I was 18 I started a relationship with someone and it was off and on and then we lost contact and then when I was 21 we came back into contact. He won me in the beginning with his charm and sense of humor. Little did I know I was slowly being manipulated, love bombed, controlled and lots of gaslighting. I made a trip to go visit him and I was only supposed to be there a week and I ended up staying. In the beginning everything seemed fine even though he had already cheated on me (red flag) but for some reason I overlooked it and continued the relationship. Over time he became more and more controlling. Starting off with what I could or couldn’t wear, how my hair and makeup were supposed to be done. Then it turned into I couldn’t go anywhere unless I was with him. I wasn’t allowed to have friends, money of my own, and basically I couldn’t do anything without his permission. Meanwhile he could come and go as he pleased, talk to anyone, have friends, and do whatever he wanted with my money. My bank account eventually got closed because he overdrew it soo many times and got so deep in the hole, I couldn’t get it out. He then made me get an account where he banked and he knew I wouldn’t be able to get a debit card there. All my checks I had to go in and get them cashed, and then hand over all my money to him. If I didn’t he would just get it out of my purse later anyway. I slowly started to gain weight because I was miserable, even though I convinced myself I wasn’t. He constantly made remarks about my body and compared me to women in public, movies, and porn. Asking me why I don’t look like that or he’d make a comment in front of me about another girl saying, “I’d bang the shit out of her.” Never, not once did I ever do that to him but he felt entitled to do it to me. I remember the first time he hit me, he didn’t even apologize after doing it. He told me he’d have no issue doing it again. I walked on eggshells everyday because I never knew what would set him off. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone about it and if I tried he would somehow know or catch me. I couldn’t even call anyone back home. He alienated me from everyone and kept me under his constant control. He complained if I needed basic necessities, but it was nothing for him to spend over $100 on video games. He made me work two jobs while he worked one. His family knew I was being abused and did nothing. No one helped me, I was absolutely stuck. There were at least 4-5 different times I packed my things wanting to leave but I couldn’t do it. He even told me to one time and when he got home I said I’m packed and he started laughing. He said, “I only said that to see if you would actually pack your things.” He knew I truly couldn’t go anywhere because I didn’t have a car, money or anywhere to go. I caught him several times talking to other girls, and he treated it like no big deal. One time a guy flirted with me and all hell broke loose. He hated the fact someone else thought I was attractive. Even though he truly didn’t want me, he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. He would wait outside my work (without me knowing) and would watch me and watch others that would come in to see if I flirted with them or if they flirted with me. Yet he could flirt and talk to whoever he wanted. He would always tell me no one else would want me. He ripped away any confidence that ever had and truly made me feel the lowest I’ve ever felt and absolutely worthless. I remember having to hide bruises because he would hit me and then he would hit me in places he knew no one could see. There were times I was slammed against the wall by my throat, thrown onto the bed and held down. He told me if I ever got pregnant he’d kick me in the stomach. Yet he forced me to have sex 3-4 times a day with no protection. For almost a year I thought I couldn’t get pregnant, until I did. The day I found out I was pregnant, you would have thought someone died. I cried soo hard and I was afraid to tell him. I had to wait what seemed like an eternity for him to come home so I could tell him. When I told him, he laughed and said “shit happens.” Not the reaction I was hoping for but I guess it was better than him being mad. He drank himself into a stupid mess that night. During that first 6-7 weeks I dropped 40lbs because I couldn’t hold anything down, not even water. He still expected me to cook for him while being that sick. He wouldn’t even allow me to lay on the couch and just rest. I asked him to get me something to drink and an hour passed by and I decided to do it myself. He then says “get me something while you’re up.” I was furious but too sick and weak to do anything. Not to long after that I had to go to the hospital because I wasn’t getting any better and I was afraid I’d have a miscarriage. As soon as I was admitted he left. He left me there knowing I had zero friends and family to come see me. I was in there for 3 days and when I called him for him to come get me he was pissed. Not just because he had to come get me but because I had woken him up from sleeping. I was out for two days and had to go back due to not only still throwing up but throwing up blood this time. I was admitted back in the hospital and this time for much longer. I was in there for about two weeks. After being asked questions about the relationship, the doctors, nurses and basically anyone who came into my room who worked there refused to release me back to him. During this time he never came to see me, never called me I always had to call him. My phone eventually got taken away and then I had to use the hospital phone. He left me high and dry and he didn’t care. He was too busy talking to an 18 year old still in high school and it wasn’t the first time he did that to me. My last night in there, because my mom (first abuser) was coming to get me out of there, he came and saw me. I was a nervous anxious mess. I was also scared. All he did was joke around and made jokes about having sex there. My nerves couldn’t handle it and I began to throw up. He said “well that’s my cue to leave,” and he left. He knew I was leaving the next day and told me to not come to his work and see him before I did. When we got to the house so I could get my things, he had already put them in a box and left it outside. I have never been so hurt and just felt so worthless. After I got away from him I truly wasn’t completely out from under his control. During my pregnancy he tried his best to control what I did, and I wasn’t allowed to “date” even though we were several states away from one another and we were not together at this point. Again he didn’t want me but he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. He wanted full control over me. Our phone calls were screaming matches and he threatened several times to take the baby away once he was born. I knew that would never happen because I knew he was too cheap to get a lawyer to do that. I gave him plenty of time to be there when they baby was born and of course he was a no show. Once I got home from the hospital I called him to let him know his son was born. Instead he yelled at me asking me where I’ve been because he couldn’t get a hold of me. I told him I had been in the hospital and if he tried to call the hospital he would have known that. Nope he rather have an excuse to be mad and yell at me. Sorry I was in the hospital having your baby, my bad!!! He did not really want to be a dad and hit the time my son was 5 he started asking about who his dad was. I didn’t lie and told him. Once again he sweet talked me into a relationship and I only did so for my child. I had to lie to my family in order for them to agree to it. I told him if it was the same crap he did 5 years prior I would end it. Not long into the relationship it was just that. The control started, the manipulation, gas lighting etc. He hadn’t changed. He was still talking to other girls, making demands, telling me what to do etc. I ended it and never went back. I tried to get him to be a father but he didn’t want to be one and I couldn’t force him. Walking away from him for the last time was the best thing I ever did. Yes it was hard but if I didn’t, something worse would have happened. I always get the question “why did you stay” or “why didn’t you leave?” It is not always that easy! He beat me down so much I truly believed no one else wanted me. I felt absolutely worthless. I had zero confidence, no self worth whatsoever. I also had no money, no car, no nothing. He made it to where I was completely dependent on him. The hospital is what saved me the first time by not releasing me back to him. The second time I was able to save myself and walk away before it was too late. I have other stories about being abused by another man, but other than being abused by my mother this one is the one that has left the most scars from a man. That relationship was truly damaging. Over time some memories don’t hurt as bad and still working on some triggers to this day. Though he has passed, the memories, triggers and trauma are still there. Abuse of any kind is never okay! LOVE ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HURT!!

Es fängt an im Teenager-Alter. Ich war 14 und mit meiner Freundin unterwegs - wir wollten dazu gehören. Oftmals wurden wir überredet und genötigt sexuelle Handlungen vorzunehmen: Zuerst mit Alkohol und Cannabis "abgefüllt und willig" gemacht werden, dann stetiges überreden zu sexuellen Handlungen bis hin zur Androhung von Gewalt. Sagte ich nein, so wurde mein "Ruf" geschändet und im ganzen Dorf sprach man über mich, wie über eine Hure. Es waren viele Männer, immer die gleiche Masche. Ich fühle mich schuldig, da ich kaum verstand, dass das nicht richtig ist und "normal" ist. Immer wieder suchten die Täter gezielt Situationen, um diese auszunutzen.  Meinen ersten Freund hatte ich mit 16. Er nötigte mich, mein 1. Mal zu haben, als ich betrunken war. Ich habe mich danach schrecklich gefühlt und hatte Schmerzen. Ich hatte ein strenges Elternhaus, oft Hausarrest, wollte aber dazu gehören und Freunde haben. So lief ich oft weg und feierte oftmals mit meiner Freundin und geriet in gefährliche Situationen. Wir sind z.B. per Anhalter gefahren: 3 Männer haben uns nicht aus dem Auto gelassen, uns in Gegenden gefahren, die wir nicht kennen, uns nicht raus gelassen. Ich schlief dann dort in einem Bett, damit wir am nächsten Tag mit dem Taxi heim können. Im Schlaf bemerkte ich dann, dass ein Penis in mir steckte - ich bin davon aufgewacht. Von einem Mann, den ich nicht kannte und mind. 10 Jahre älter als ich war. Ich war zu dem Zeitpunkt 17. Ich erstarrte und lies es über mich gehen, in der Hoffnung es passiert mir nicht mehr. Mein zweiter Freund nahm mich mit zu seinem besten Freund. Er wollte dort Sex haben - ich fühlte mich dazu gezwungen, da ich sonst nicht heimkäme. Dabei kam sein bester Freund dazu, war wohl eine abgesprochene Sache (nur ohne mich). Ich hatte keine Möglichkeit nein zu sagen oder zu entkommen. Ich ließ es über mich ergehen. Ich wusste es nicht besser. Ein anderes mal war ich ebenfalls in einer Clique draußen unterwegs. Sie wollten rumfahren, ich fuhr mit. Dann war ich mit einem Mann allein in der Wohnung. Er sperrte mich ein und wollte mich zum Sex überreden. Ich entkam, indem ich mich stark gewehrt hatte. Er drohte mir Gewalt an. Ich stand an der Straße, wusste nicht wo ich war - über 1 Std. weg von meinem zu Hause. Eine Frau nahm mich dann per Anhalter mit. Mit 20 lag ich oftmals am nahgelegenem See und genießte das Wetter. Drei Vorfälle gab es am See: beim 1. Mal stand nackt ein Mann hinter mir und befriedigte sich selbst. Beim zweiten Mal, an einem anderen Tag legte sich ein Mann nackt nur ein Meter entfernt von mir sich hin. Er war locker 50 Jahre alt. Ich erstarrte und hatte Todesangst, das wenn ich mich bewege, er näher kommt und mir was antut. Erst als eine weitere fremde Person auftauchte, zog er sich an. Beim dritten mal, ähnliches und ich schrieb meiner Freundin, dass sie bitte kommen soll. Als sie kam, ging der Mann davon. Im Urlaub war ich mit einer Freundin unterwegs, wir waren 24. Es entblösste sich ein kleiner alter Mann vor uns, zeigte seinen nackten Penis und rief, ob wir Sex haben wollen.  Mit 25 hatte ich eine Affäre. Der Mann wurde beim Sex so aggressiv, beginn mich stark zu schlagen und zu würgen. Ich sagte, das ich das nicht möchte - er ignorierte mich. Ich fühle mich dermassen missbraucht. Von einem weiteren Freund lies ich mich in einen "Sex"Club überreden. Ich dachte, ich bin cool und kann das und das das normal ist und von einem erwartet wird. Dort wurde ich extrem begafft und von extrem älteren Männern angefasst. Anschließend sagte mein Freund mir, dass ich schmutzig sei (andere haben mich angefasst und ich sei dafür verantworltich) - er könne nun nicht mehr mit mir zusammen sein.  Ich war in Mallorca im Urlaub mit 25 und buchte eine Ferienwohnung über AirBnB. Der Host war sehr freundlich, es war seine 2. Wohnung die er stetig vermietet- so stand es online. Ich war dort immer allein und fühlte mich wohl. Da ich die ganze Wohnung gebucht hatte, sperrte ich das Schlafzimmer nicht ab. In der letzten Nacht wachte ich von einer Berührung auf: Plötzlich saß der "freundliche" Vermieter nackt an meinem Bettrand und streichelte mein Bein. Ich war so perplex und fragte ihn, was das soll. Er meinte nur, er habe seinen Schlüssel verloren. Ich zeigte auf meinen und sagte ihm, er solle diesen nehmen und raus gehen. Erst nachdem ich mehrmals ihn aufgefordert habe zu gehen, lies er von mir ab. Ich war in Panik danach. Es waren "nur" noch 4 std, bis ich zum Flughafen musste. Ich packte dennoch sofort meine Sachen und floh aus der Wohnung. Er wollte mir dann dabei noch behilflich sein - und akzeptierte mein Nein nicht. Als ich rausging, sah ich, dass die Besenkammer offen stand und dort eine Matratze etc. lag - ich glaube, dass er dort heimlich jede Nacht geschlafen hat. Ekelhaft, ich hoffe es ist mir nicht mehr passiert. Ich schrieb ihm eine schlechte Rezension und erzählte dies öffentlich und meldete es der Plattform. Er stellte mich als notgeil da, dass ich lügen würde und das ich was von ihm wollte.  Mit 25 war ich mit guten langjährigen Freunden auf einem Geburtsag. Wir übernachteten dort auf einem Sofa: ich alleine auf einem Zweisitzer, ein "guter Freund" und seine Freundin auf dem angrenzendem Sofa. Dann bemerkte ich im Schlaf einen Finger in mir und wachte auf. Als ich sah, dass er mich anfasste, sprang ich auf und schloss mich ins Bad ein. Ich konfontierte ihn damit, er verhamrloste es. "Ich hätte es gewollt". Seine Freundin bekam nichts mit. Doch diesmal schwieg ich nicht! Und war das erste mal stolz auf mich: Ich öffente mich Freunden und erzählte davon. Rückhalt war hier wenig zu finden. Ich erzählte seiner Freundin davon, sie verteidigte ihn. Seine zwei besten Kumpels ebenso und es wurde totgeschwiegen. Heute sprechen mich Fremde darauf an, nur wegen "sensationsgeilheit" und glauben mir nicht - schließlich war ich ja früher für meinen "Ruf" bekannt. Meine Perspektive der damaligen Zeit meines "Rufes" interessiert sie nicht  - schließlich bin ich schon immer extrovertiert, kontatkfreudig, "reizvoll" gekleidet und an allem selber Schuld. Ich würde mich immer anbieten. Ich hasse es so sehr, ich möchte nicht an die Zeit erinnert werden. Es war Winter, ich 29 Jahre alt: Meine Oma hatte einen Schlaganfall und musste an den Rollstuhl gegurtet werden, kann nicht sprechen oder sich bewegen. Ich lief mit ihr im Park spazieren. Es war Mittags gegen 15h und hatte einen langen Mantel, Schal etc. an. Auf einer Anhöhe tat ich mir schwer, den Rollstuhl hoch zu schieben. Es kam ein fremder, alter Mann mit Hund und fragte, ob er mir helfen kann. Ich lehnte höflich ab. Er kam dennoch hinter mich, fasste mich am Po an und schob mich hoch. Ich konnte kaum glauben, was ich da erlebe. Er ging erst von mir weg , als ich lauthals sagte, dass ich es alleine schaffe. Passanten waren unterwegs - niemand bemerkte meine hilflose Situation.

Remember those 80s rom-coms? The struggling, mysterious soul, charming yet obviously troubled? Tough guy exterior, Jud Nelson type with a soft heart. He is exciting, but he is also a big wall of red flags? Yeah that’s what I thought was love. The first time, we had just started seeing each-other and he was helping me shop for a cute outfit. I tried on a top that was cute but absolutely not too revealing. He said absolutely not, so I stood my ground ( his objections were baseless and I’d never been told this by anyone). We were seeing MY best friends and their boyfriends, people I had partied with and hung out with for YEARS before meeting him- I wasn’t meeting his parents. I wasn’t going to church. And I absolutely looked just fine. He stormed out and left me at the mall by myself. I walked home and finally he chased me down as I was almost home and dropped to his knees crying apologizing for what he did and said. We had great sex and argument was over. The cycle continued. I spoke to someone too long ( my friends nerdy cousin about my upbringing- nothing gross or inappropriate- he just thought it was cool and was talking to me with ny ex right there) my ex - now husband - refused to hold my hand and told me my touch made his skin crawl- why was I flirting with that guy? I am in shock thinking we’d had a great day in the city and made new friends. Then the emotional abuse and withdrawal from sex almost immediately followed after we got married. He wasn’t turned on by me, he’s dated more petite girls… I went on diets. He still withheld sex and affection and I started to become a shell of insecurities. Then the anger, we had a son who had to manage two people in constant conflict. My ex punched walls, broke iPads, remotes. He was never around and I was alone yet never enough to him, the home we made was a giant disappointment, we were a giant disappointment, and our son is seeing his father destroy his house in anger and u treated manic depression. No one knew this. He was loved at work, he was smart, funny; charming - I mean they all asked me - are you X wife? Heard so much a out you! We love him! Our dry cleaning lady who spike limited English, my coworkers and friends, my family. They saw who I fell in love with but not who I lived with. Who got to see the charm suddenly turn off- like a magnet, the instant we walked out of the restaurant or closed the doors to the car. The sun suddenly went dark and I was the emotional punching bag. This culminated at my sisters wedding in Spain. He almost didn’t go- but then went and my mother saw how he dragged my son to bed mid festivities when it was late and he had been watching my son like a hawk. He carried him like a sack of potatoes she said , dragging him off the floor and my mom asked me if I was ok with this. I wasn’t. It was my daily struggle. She finally saw my life, she finally saw my terror. I asked him to leave when we returned and I continue to coparent with him. I continue to redraw my boundaries. I get therapy and o rebuild myself bit by bit. It’s been 6 years and because of our child I will always be exposed to his cruelty. I have to teach my son to do better. I have to undo behavior he still sees. But now I am stronger and I have done what I need to to shield my son as much as I legally can. To balance the good parts of him and protect us from the bad. It continues to be a job but I am here. I am loved by someone new. I give my son a different ending and a different view of love.

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

as a child I went through abuse physical and sexual, the same for my mom. It didn’t even with her, me and my brothers saw the pain and trauma she endured as well as us until she left. When I was a child I promised I’d never fall for a man like my father and ex step father until I did, I ended up not keep that promise and stayed I finally realized why my mom never left his empty promises felt like home, he was what I thought I needed..but I did leave, and now I have two beautiful babies who will never experience that generational trauma or pain because “it ended with me”

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.

Hello, thank you for taking the time to read and consider Name story. First, I don’t blame Police Departmentor the state of State Namefor anything that has happened, the responsibility for this belongs completely to the state of State Name She met Friend Name 7 years ago when they were both homeless and moved to Second State Name to live with him at his mother’s property. This property is in the middle of nowhere inSecond State Name, their closest neighbors were anywhere from 30 to 60 acres away. He did this to isolate her from her social support systems, which is something many abusers do to manipulate and gain control of their victims. She didn’t know the kind of person he was until she got pregnant, after which he continually tried to emotionally manipulate her into an abortion. He had not wanted children, though he made repeated promises of a life and family to gain her trust and lure her to the property. This is a large part of his cycle, he makes these promises and lures women (typically around the age of 22) to his mother’s property where he becomes possessive, controlling, and abusive. His family knows he does this and that he’s abusive, but they do nothing to stop him and instead enable him. He had done this with a woman before her, but she had realized his true nature before becoming pregnant and fled to safety. Additionally, he is currently attempting to manipulate another 22-year-old woman from Third State Name online and is making these same promises and luring her to the property. After the baby was born, he became increasingly verbally and emotionally abusive toward her and even committed these acts in front of the child at least every other day. She was living in a constant state of fear, and he manipulated this to further isolate her and take control of her life. Once she finally got the courage to leave him, he became highly combative and began using their daughter as a weapon against her. He then manipulated a judge into giving him primary residence with joint (called shared there) custody of their daughter, though she was the one who cared for the baby every day. His mother had gotten him an attorney whileName couldn’t afford one, which is another thing common to abusers using the legal system against their victims. Unfortunately, we have yet to create protections for women who are vulnerable to this form of attack. She got her own apartment, and the child lived there over 95% of the time. He did not adhere to his responsibilities, and if she said anything about it, he would take the child and hide her fromName for a week or two as “punishment”. He would not provide for his child or look after her in any way, and this made it hard for name to complete her college coursework or make money at her job as a Grub Hub delivery driver. He would have a family that had their children taken and then given back by DHS (Third State Name's version of DCS) watch her the few times he did take her, even though they are again under DHS investigation and about to lose their children permanently. The amount of abuse and neglect it took for DHS to become involved with this family is staggering, and their four children will deal with the emotional trauma they’ve suffered for the rest of their lives. This eventually caused her to lose the apartment and made her move back in with him on his mother’s property, which was obviously the goal of his behavior because her only other choice would have been to abandon her daughter with the abuser. His aggressive behavior and demands that she cooperate with his plans got so severe that he began to rape her in her sleep if she refused his advances, and she found out later that he was put in a boarding school when he was 12 after being caught molesting a prepubescent boy. The abuse they suffered eventually caused their child to begin trying to shield her mother from it and she developed severe psychological trauma, to the point where this four-year-old would say things like “I hope my dad kills you” to her mother. She finally gained the courage to seek justice for his abuse and filed an emergency restraining order, and the judge told her that the County Sheriff and DHS would investigate the issue. However, both the Sheriff of County and DHS failed to investigate anything, despite the Sheriff being informed that there are hours of recorded abuse. So, she grabbed everything she could and came to State Name where she had a support system, and then placed a new order of protection against him. Five days later Third State Name had her violently arrested in front of the child for a fugitive Criminal Restraint by a Parent (like State Name's Custodial Interference) warrant, and according to the attorney I got in Third State Namethey are refusing to accept the Order of Protection from State Name I recently reached out to the County Sheriff’s office in response to a request for information I received from the Second County Sheriff’s office as the Order of Protection has not been served in over 30 days and was told by them that they did not need help finding Abuser's Name This refusal to follow State Nameorder is against Title 18 or the United States Code and the Interstate Compact, but they will not directly admit that this is what they are doing. I have proof of all of this, including the recordings of the abuse, the restraining order in Third State Name, and the Order of Protection in State Name and am willing to discuss this with you further. Apparently, Third State Namethinks it’s okay to punish victims and protect abusers, probably to keep their abuse case numbers down. This is a grotesque miscarriage of justice, and I am reaching out to anyone I can to bring awareness to these disgusting actions.

Once when I was 15 years old, my aunts husband had forced me to grab his penis and I had told my aunt which was when I had slept at her home cause I didn’t wanna be home alone and she thought it was a lie and that I wanted to leave with the boyfriend I had at the time and till this day had the whole family on her and his side

when I was 13, I got my first boyfriend. he was my first kiss. I have since found that I am a lesbian and it was extremely hard to break out of the heteronormative cycle I was in. my mom loved my first boyfriend, we had been in the same grade school class since we were 5 years old and she said that one day we would get married. I knew he had a crush on me the entire time and eventually, I grew curious. he kept asking me to kiss him and I was hesitant, but it got to the point where I just did it to make him stop. I guess he grew comfortable enough around me that he felt he could get away with anything around me. he would smack my bum a lot, which I thought was just playful so I did it back to him. he wanted more from me and groped my chest without asking. I felt so dirty when he did it. it felt like I had to grow up right in that moment. I pulled his hand away but I didn't stop kissing him, I felt like that was what he wanted so I gave it to him. I got so in my head about it that I distanced myself from him and severed our relationship. I tried to tell my mom but she dismissed my being upset with him being 'handsy'. she was so proud of our relationship that I think I was only doing it to make her happy. I still don’t understand what happened, and I'm 21 now. if a full-grown man did that to me it would be mortifying to others. but we were both kids and I haven't stopped thinking about it for years. is that sexual assault? I feel like it's my fault that I led him on like that. and that this isn't as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be. why do I feel this way? we were 13 and I still feel violated and ignored, it's been 7 years. why is this so hard to get over? I'm graduating college soon with a degree in criminal justice, I want to be a victim's advocate. maybe some other 13-year-old girl can tell her mom and she will know where to go to understand what happened to her. I want to be the person to help but I still don’t understand what happened to me. why am I like this?

At the tender age of 9 I was molested by a family member. This went on for 3 years. When I did mention it to my immediate family I broke down and was admitted to the hospital for a period of 48 hours. I was truly saddened and really felt alone. I carried this burden on for over 20 something years where afterwards I befriended someone that physically abused me. I ignored the red flags and in order to keep my children safe I told the perpetrator that I will stay. He would hit me in the back of my head many times to this day I have a small protruding disc in the back of my skull. The last incident when I knew that I couldn't take anymore and that my children would be safe is when he tried to throw me down my stairs after straddling me while choking me. I prayed and I asked God for strength. This was in Date. I found the strength to heal, seek therapy and start my own nonprofit (Nonprofit name) which serves Women and Children of domestic violence with temporary shelter, counseling, and 10-week trauma sessions. I now know my Worth and I know that I am a Woman that matters.

I haven’t talked to anyone about the abuse that happened to me. It was 5 years the guy I once fell so hard for became a monster, a sadistic, evil predator. I need to share this story so I can finally say it and maybe let it go. It was just another day about year and 1/2 into relationship. The abuse started slowly at 6 months it did become a 4 to 5 day a week occurrence. I started to be able to see the signs when he was going to start a fight and they would last all night sometimes days and he would always take away any access for me calling for help. That’s how I knew it was starting this time he started asking stupid questions like picking a fight. I was doing my best to act like I didn’t know what was going on and win him over play whatever role he needed so he would stop before it got to the point I was fighting for my life. However, he then grabbed my phone and threw it out the window accusing me of talking to some guy. It was right then I knew what I needed to get help quick. We were staying at a hotel and it was 2 levels. Where I was standing gave me enough distance to bolt up the steps before he could grab me and run into bathroom. I remembered there was a phone on the wall in bathroom. He was standing by the phone in living room when he tossed my phone this was his evil way of letting me know I had no way of calling for help. So quick split decision I bolted up the steps before I got to top I fell down as he grabbed my foot. I turned quickly and hit him in the face with my other foot which his grip then released enough for me to make it in the bathroom and lock the door. I then grabbed the phone and pressed zero for front desk. My heart was pounding.. I couldn’t believe I did it.. I was going to be ok this time he didn’t win.. I waited and heard nothing so I hanged the receiver up picked it up again put it my ear and pressed zero. I didn’t even hear a dial tone. I thought to myself what is going on that’s when I heard his evil laugh outside the bathroom door and I realized he had taken the cord from the phone already. He started taunting me saying.. Why would I do this to him he loves me and if I don’t come out right now it’s only going to be worse the longer I make him wait. Screaming wouldn’t have helped as there were no other guests near our room and no one would hear through the soundproof walls anyways. He always made sure to get a hotel with soundproof walls to prevent people from heating me scream for help. I sat there feeling like I was in a movie this is not happening to me.. I felt so defeated and absolute despair and fear and a knowing that I might just die right now if I don’t walk out to that monster and face the horrible torture and pain he is about to inflict on me. My head was down cradled in my palms and I can’t put into words what I was feeling at that moment I opened the door knowing he was right there waiting. He kicked me in knee caps grabbed me by hair and drug me 1/2 way down the stairs then banged my head against the steps several times while professing how much he loves me. Then he begun choking that was his favorite thing to do to me. This time though he held on for longer pressing down on windpipe so hard I swear he broke it. It was always bruised for years. Wait the world is closing in I feel like I’m falling down a tunnel and everything is getting darker smaller and smaller from a big circle until black… now I’m awake he is crying and laying next to me holding my head and body kissing me oh my god I love you, I’m so sorry I love you so much. That felt so good to be held right then and now it was over that wasn’t to bad well I’m still alive at least.