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I'm 71 years old and allowed myself to be abuised for over 20years out of a 36 year marriage. I lost my daughters and grandchildren because of my actions. I've got no one I'm totally alone. I found out that my husband was a drug addict to prescriptions and was a thief and a liar who manipulated everyone around him he was a good guy. I was to busy working raising a family and continued to let this man use me because I loved him. I just realized love shouldn't hurt. He's left our home for years at a time, I've never gone with any one else. I've been raped strangled beaten bruised bloodied ,used money and antiques stolen etc. . I allowed myself to be used over and over why I don't know still don't I thought I loved him because we had a special bond . I was kidding myself and it hurts more than you know. I tried to end my life to get rid of the pain of abuise and failed years ago. Couldn't live with the pain of losing my family. . I'm so alone sitting in a house wasting away waiting to die someday someone will notice by my mail or my dog. What a shame I was a beautiful strong loving wife and mother grandmother to be left this way to die alone and broken because I was abuised I blame , my children for not protecting me,, the courts most of all I blame myself for loving a man and not loving myself more. I need help and I still do.

Iam a 33 year old with 3 children(2 boys and one girl) my first born son is from my previous relationship. I was a fresh graduate when i met this man that i currently have two kids with …i finished university expecting to get a job to support me and my then only son but each time i tried to look for jobs my husband discouraged me saying i would be exploited and given peanuts so to whom it was wise for me to sit home and be a wife i gave in and sat home but him satisfying my needs was always a fight i remember i asked for panties and bras for the last 6 years and nothing.everything he provides we must first have a fight and he knows so well i have no where to run to because he isolated me from my family. After moving in with him and my son he started treatung my son with so much anger he would beat,abuse and use vulgar words to him and he still does it he shows him that am not your father and only favors the kids i have with him. Mine i came with is not worthy of anything good. While i was pregnant for his son he was flirting with my sister and by this time i was not getting any financial help so i opted to go to my mothers rental and after sometime my sister disclosed to me the kind of husband i have when i confronted him about it he was too bitter and threatened to take my kids from me. When i was pregnant for my second child with him i got him with 15 girls flirting and sleeping around i was so devasted and almost lost my child due to stress i put my self together and let it go for my sake of my baby but i swore i was done with this man so i started not to pay too much attention on him and concentrated on raising my kids meanwhile i was caught up had no money of my own and had no relative in contact with i perservered and stayed to have a roof over our heads and to solicit food for my kids. I actually lost sexual appetite towards him for all the disgusting things he does behind my back but he would force me into sex and threaten not to provide if i ddt satisfy him a time came when he would rape me saying am his property and that i couldnt live without him since i dont have any money. It was all verbal violence until may this year 2024when i confronted him about cheating with my cousin and messages of him in a lodge with another girl that he grabbed me by the neck and strangled me and beat up that i started spitting blood..at this point i said to myself i should leave and start a new life i actually told him am leaving and he laughed at me saying u cant leave what are u gonna feed ur kids .i was packing whole day thinking to my self i cant fail to get where to stay but reality hit me and for sure i had no where to go so i unpacked my stuff and stayed its now months and months of sexual, financial,emotional and physical abuse but i dont know where to start with 3 children ive actually contemplated suicide so many times thinking it will ease the pain. Am in fear please advise me

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.

As a young adult I was exposed to internet pornography. Curiosity drew me in more and more and eventually I became addicted to it. I spent the next 17 years struggling with it off and on, wanting to stop but not knowing how. When I started to learn how porn perpetuates sex trafficking, I became more motivated to find recovery. I also felt deeply convicted when I began to learn that a significant amount of internet pornography contained non-consensual content. I didn’t realize how consuming it created more and more demand. I’ve finally gotten free from that habit and have been for almost 6 years now. Now I’m at a place where I’ve found opportunities to help other men get free and raise awareness on the harm of porn and the abuse it perpetuates. I have so much passion and hope now. I KNOW consumers/abusers can change through self-disgust, remorse, and empathy. Hearing survivor stories encourages me so much and I look forward to efforts that elevate their voices. I hope my journey continues to bring healing, hope, and healthy dialogue to others and their journeys.

I won't protect him anymore. I won't hide what he did. I won't suffer in silence because the atrocities of what happened makes the bystanders uncomfortable when I tell my story. Sit with it. Feel the discomfort. Feel a crumb of the fear I felt every day I came home from school. Feel the shame of not believing me when I said I was afraid for my life, and you denied me shelter. Sent me back to the place where I was supposed to feel safety, but instead feared for my life by my father. He tells me "a parents' job is to be better than their parents were to them." Well the bar was set pretty damn low. Just because your dad was abusive too, doesn't give you an excuse to abuse me. How is my heart opened and more compassionate after how you've broken it, but yours only wants to break others? I didn't choose to be born. You brought me into this world, and you made it very clear that you could take me out of it, if you so desired. I loved you. I still love you. The hardest part of all of this was fighting the childlike, optimistic image I had of you. I still fight it. Everything in my soul wants to love you. Wants to have more of your "good days." But the other side of me hates that you stole my childhood. For haunting my dreams. For the everyday fear - even though I've moved thousands of miles away. Bystanders - don't tell me "one day things will be okay, and you will talk to your father again." He can't change.

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

Leaving my ex was a decision shaped by years of isolation and physical abuse, but the breaking point was when he tried to control my livelihood. He wanted me to quit my job, and when I refused, he didn’t care. Another time, he looked me in the eyes and said, “You’re not leaving this apartment alive,” before laughing. That was the moment I realized—why was I letting this man decide what I did with my life? Why was I letting him determine whether I got to be alive at all? The day I finally left, I called my mom and told her I wanted out. When my ex threatened to throw all my belongings away, I called the police. They gave me five minutes to gather what I could. I grabbed whatever I could carry and walked away. But leaving wasn’t the end—it was just the beginning. He stalked and harassed me relentlessly. Social media messages. Presents left on my car. Showing up at my parents' house. Nonstop calls. I eventually had to change my phone number. Even then, it took me a while to file for a Protection Order because, somehow, I still felt bad for him. Then, after months of no contact, I ran into him at the gym. He made a threatening remark, so I reported it, and he was banned. That set him off. As I left the gym, he tried to run me off the road. I managed to pull into a parking lot where bystanders gathered around me while he screamed. The police arrived and told me I should file for an Emergency Protection Order immediately—something I had put off, thinking I had to wait for regular business hours. I got the order and thought that would be the end of it. But exactly one day after it expired, he showed up again—and this time, he wouldn’t let me leave where I was parked. Panic took over as I desperately tried to get someone’s attention to call the police. Finally, I managed to get to safety, and someone had already made the call. As I started driving home, I realized he was following me again. Instead of going home, I turned back and told the police. They offered to follow me, and as I drove off, I spotted him on the other side of the road. I motioned to the officer, who immediately pulled him over. A few minutes later, the officer called me and said I needed to get another order against him, warning that he was "mentally unwell." He hoped that pulling him over had given me enough time to get home safely. This time, I had to file for a Peace Order, which only lasted six months. He even tried to appeal it—but in the end, it was granted. Looking back, I learned that the most dangerous time for a survivor isn’t during the relationship—it’s when they try to leave. Those months after I walked away were far more terrifying than any moment I spent with him. But in the end, I made it out. And that’s what matters.

This is not easy and I am now sure more than ever that others felt the same way. While you can feel you are in it alone there are so many many many stories that are the same. I was at such a tender age. Innocent and blameless. I never knew that i was being taken for granted by the very person who said they love me. They were my family member. Little did I know i would continue to move forward in my life in a manner that only God could heal. Now I sit hear as a full grown adult after going through emotional, physical, psychological abuse by so many that claims to love me. I continued to protect them all because I never told my side of the story. It all ends today. No one else gets to take advantage of my weakness. I was in a long time relationship that started as your typical relationship just beautiful. All of the nice things occurred flowers, candy, gifts. As time went on and things were more settled the take over begun. The insecurities continued to grow and grow. Around year 2 is when the physical abuse started. He had me right where he wanted me. My family tried to intervene but I thought I was in LOVE. Yea I said that 4 letter word that can cause so much pain. Yes I stayed and that was the end to most of my relationships with my family. The relationship with he and I would span another 10 years before the END was the END. I tell you it was not easy at all. One thing I did learn is that most people that should be for you will call you all kind of names stupid, dumb, etc. so much so until you start to believe it. Never give up on yourself.

I've suffered sexual, physical and emotional abuse in not one but two relationships in my life.......It began back in Date I'd come out of a long-term relationship of 5yrs and probably on the rebound (although I didn't think that at the time as a tender 23yr old) met a guy in our local pub. He seemed nice enough and we entered into a relationship. Soon though the signs appeared, gaslighting, name calling, eroding my self-esteem. I stupidly ignored the signs and continued in the relationship, even marrying him! The night before we were due to be married I was in floods of tears but his sister said it was probably just pre-wedding nerves (no-one knew how I was suffering at his hands) I should've called it off, kicked him out of MY house and got on my life, but you become so embroiled in everything, and it becomes 'normal' to feel scared, anxious and dependant on this person, totally alienated from friends, family and anyone who wasn't 'him'. I was controlled monetarily, emotionally in every aspect of my life, how I dressed, where I went, how much money I spent and became increasingly isolated and DEPENDANT on him! I was working a full time job earning more than him, but couldn't spend a penny without checking with him first, and I stupidly went along with it. I received phone calls and text pretty much all the time checking where I was, with whom, what I was doing, I was CONTROLLED. The abuse happened regularly emotional, physical, mental and financial but I was so scared and lost......I FEARED him and became like a cornered animal with nowhere to turn. When our daughter turned 2 I finally realised that I had to get out, I didn't want her to think this was what a relationship looked like. That was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life! After 9yrs I was free, but was I? No, the emotional scars ran very deep and I was a shadow of the person I once was, I was petrified of everything, but I had a child who relied on me. I bought my own house, divorced him and tried to adapt to my new life............ Fast forward to the end of another failed marriage nearly a decade ago, I'm in my late 40's by now, own my own home, work, own a car etc, but sadly lacking in friends I'd lost them all years before and the few remaining were all married so I joined a dating website and matched with a man who I'd known years ago as a teenager. We started a relationship. This man stripped away everything I'd rebuilt, he tormented me, followed me, abused me, he'd turn up in supermarkets when I was shopping. I'd entered into another nightmare situation, but occasionally I fought back, literally!! I'd stupidly given him a key to my house, and if I tried to end things he'd let himself in, hound me with phone calls, flowers, the usual tactics abusers turn to. I couldn't even look out of the car windows on journeys as I'd be accused of 'looking' at men! One night though, he thought he'd killed me, he pushed me on a night out and my head hit the pavement hard, I was so dazed I laid there, not sure whether I lost consciousness We spent 10 months together, and then he collapsed and died on my bedroom floor at 50yrs old, and God forgive me, but I was free! He wouldn't ever harass me again, he was gone............And this time I was free, totally free. And that is my story, without the hideous details of the level of abuse I suffered as no-one needs to read all the details, it triggers me even now thinking back, but I survived, I'm still recovering and always will be, but I'm now 55, married to the love of my life, my soulmate, my safe place.

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

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

My story was 24 years(18-42) of abuse. I was controlled by my narcissist same sex Ex. She was super controlling. I wasn't allowed to have friends or to wear jeans or pants.. Everything was always my fault and I had to earn her forgiveness. All this time het older brother started by raping and sexually abusing me Then he started human trafficking me. First it was to get into BDSM gatherings and then when he lost his job it was for money for him. I wss kept in place by threats against my now Ex and her son who was 4 when it started. I got out December 2012.. I was taking taxis because my ex had hurt her leg and I wasn't allowed to drive or have a license.. I met my now husband that way. I don't know why but I felt a connection with him for some reason. The day that ended it all in my mind. Was I had to take s train to my then therapist. She mafe me take her brother with me and said I could only go to therapy if I did that. Ot was my taxi driver who picked us up and he loed to get senior rate and didn't tip. I went back out to settle the money and wound up talking to my now husband, Husband for like 45 minutes. Husband figured out who he was and didn't eant to leave me there. I wasn't ready yet. Eventually, I left amd left everything, but she had him there all the time and she wouldn't allow me to bring Husband. So my stuff wasn't worth it. I am out and safe now, but am still plaqued by flashbacks and memories. I have been without a therapist since right before Covid. My therapist went on a two month cruise and didn't set me up with anyone to see while she was gone. Thst is sll for now I don't want to say to much Survivor

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

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!!

I grew up in an emotionally and mentally abusive household. I never knew when I’d be in trouble next, and the feeling of walking on eggshells created in me a need for hyper-vigilance. I became angrier the older I got, and when I was 17, I ran down the steps to try and intervene when my dad was yelling in my mom’s face. He chased me up the steps, and I was able to lock myself in my room. Even though I was never smacked in my face or punched or even beat, I was spanked within an inch of my life. Quite often I could barely sit, and it really did a number on me. I swore I’d never get married if this was what marriage was all about. I am very thankful I was able to break that cycle, and today I am married to a very passionate, loving husband who promised to keep me safe and has kept his promise. There is light at the end of the tunnel. You can break that cycle of abuse. It has taken me years to try and undo the damage that was done to me, and even now, I still struggle with the PTSD and automatic jumping if someone steps too quickly or raises their voice a bit too loudly. But I am thankful I have been able to raise my own kids much differently and show them how healthy relationships work.

Growing up since a young age I’ve always saw “love” from different views. When I got to high school I met a guy, I was 16 years old when he started to abuse me, I loved him & I thought it was okay.. no one at school believed me either. Everyone was his friend & no matter what I said it didn’t matter. No one understands that it stays with you, & trust me it hurts I didn’t think it would hurt still but you carry it. The pain was real, the scars are real, & I carry them. I was so young & scared, you want to know how many times someone asked me well why did you stay? Why didn’t you leave? I don’t know. I will never know, all I know is that I didn’t deserve to carry this hurt.

Sexual Abuse in the Academe: Experiencing sexual abuse early in my life by teachers at school, one in primary school and the other in high school, made me think there would be no safe zone for sexual abuse. I became extremely vulnerable and imposed unbelievable restrictions on my relationships with others. Nevertheless, my most disgraceful institutional sexual abuse was on its way later in the academe. In my second year of the Ph.D. program in South Korea, Name Initials, a businessman and politician seeker, returned to college to pursue a master’s degree. He was in an intimate relationship with my adviser. Since my adviser and I were also close to each other, the three of us would go out for lunch or coffee together. Name Initials liked my intelligence and passion in my career and outspokenly pointed that out. Gradually, he brought his ambition and passion for life to my attention. About 20 years after graduation from college, he inevitably faced many challenges like a freshman-year student. Therefore, there were times when he asked me for academic assistance, particularly in writing an academic paper, collecting data in the library, and developing a theoretical framework for his study. One day, we were supposed to have dinner at a hotel restaurant a few days after my assistance in his writing assignment. On our way for dinner, however, he asked me if I wouldn’t mind going farther away to enjoy the quiet nature and good food. I accepted his offer, and he and I headed somewhere he only knew. It took us about an hour to get to the destination. It paid off, and we enjoyed the meal and conversation. On our way back to Seoul, he asked me if he could stop to smoke. He pulled over the car, rolled down the windows, and started smoking with my permission. He turned on the music without waiting for my reply, and we were quiet momentarily. Suddenly, I realized how much I had come along with so many ups and downs and how much I had longed to escape from the reality around me. He felt something was going on and touched my cheeks. He asked if I was crying. I did not reply. In just a few seconds, he put out the cigarette, rolled the windows, and turned off the light and music. That was the beginning of his sexual abuse of me. Since then, he has abused me for months on unavoidable occasions sexually. After Name Initials’s graduation, I received my doctoral degree in Date. My adviser asked me to visit Name Initials 2, a professor at a two-year college located on the outskirts of Seoul. Name Initials 2 welcomed me with warm greetings and a big smile and asked me to write the rest of his doctoral dissertation using the data and materials he would provide me. He promised to help me get a faculty position at his college in return for contributing to his dissertation. His first meeting ended in about thirty minutes, and he had me assigned to teach in his college. A few days later, Name Initials 2 corrected his previous words and convinced me he would finish his dissertation independently. He also promised to help me get a job at his college or from one of his close friends. He suggested shopping with me to buy a gift for me without any specific reason. I accepted his invitation, hoping to learn more about him and establish new academic contacts. During dinner, Name Initials 2 discussed position openings from his college and the detailed procedures from application to official employment. I applied for a position opening and became a promising candidate. One day, he suggested that I go out for dinner with him. After dinner, he offered me a ride home that evening when he forcefully attempted to kiss me, beginning Name Initials 2’s sexual abuse against me. Over the weekend, he would call me saying he wanted to discuss the follow-ups of the application. It was unclear that he would discuss what I needed to do in the hiring process. However, shortly after the frivolous gesture on my application status, he sexually abused me in any place. He also took me to a lodging area away from the big cities and took advantage of me sexually. My struggle to get my relationship with Name Initials 2 back on track was useless. At the end of that semester, it turned out that my application was unsuccessful. After a long struggle, I formed a non-profit, Non-Profit Name Link, in City, State, in 2014 to help other sexual abuse survivors with their journey to healing and empowerment.