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

For any survivor reading this, you are not alone. I come from a quite large family where abuse and neglect happened on a daily base, the abuse happened starting from 2 to around 13, I was very isolated and had a lot to learn when I was saved. I wasn't aware of all the dangers and knew nothing about healthy boundaries. I learned to be invisible and submissive. I quickly learned that my past caused me to be revictimized, I felt no self worth and thought the only way I was loved was by giving away my body to strangers, strangers who took advantage of this. When I was 16 I met this boy online, I trusted him and told him about my abuse history, he was very understanding and supportive. But the moment I turned 18 he wanted to meet me and he raped me for 3 days straight. I was naive and thought this was love and this continued for 6 months. I'm trying to heal and learn that I have worth outside of what happened to me and that it doesn't have to define me. Although my healing journey is nowhere near done I won't give up, because I am worthy of love and care that doesn't involve hurting me. I deserve to be treated with respect and so do you. Please don't give up on yourself, you will heal and you will get through this. We can do this together ❤️

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

I got married when I was 25 years old. I truly thought it was going to be just an amazing thing. I had never lived away from home and was immediately now married and moving away from my home, friends and family for my husband's new job. The first few months were truly a honeymoon and I thought if this is the rest of my life then I scored!! My ex was in the military and had finished his service right before we married. We moved for his new job and after a few months the PTSD and stress took a toll on him. That's not an excuse it's the truth I saw it manifest and change. His outbursts always ended with the person closet to him, which was me. The first time I was in complete, utter shock. This could not be happening to me. I was from a good family, I was educated and intelligent, I was starting a great career myself, how could I allow myself to be hurt on a regular basis. Every time there was the apologies, the promise to get help, the cooling off time where we had some happy times and then here we went again. I didn't have the courage to leave, I was so ashamed and scared to tell my family. What would they think? Would they blame me the way he did? Would they tell me to stick it out because I was raised that marriage is hard and you have to stick with it and work it out. I tiptoed every day for 2 years but it still happened. Hospital visits for "falls" and other "accidents" became a regular thing. I was miserable and felt hopeless how did I end up there, how could this be my life. I finally confided in a co-worker who never judged me just listened. One day she said if you're not going to leave than don't be a victim, fight back. Give it as good as you get it. Not sure that was the best advice as it started a cycle of back and forth abuse that was in no way healthy. I took a baseball bat to knees while he slept and I ended up arrested. there was many more instances of him hurting me and me hurting him I was now 3 years in to being abused and one year in to becoming an abuser. NOT GOOD. I had some reprieve as my ex took a job in another state for a few years so did long distance but the abuse was still real when he was home. I never thought I would be happy to find out my husband was cheating on me but 8 years in a woman showed up at my door and said she was pregnant with my husband's child. I literally hugged her. I was free, it was over. I packed up up stuff and my car and left. I called him from the road to let him know what happened and said I wanted a divorce. He did not give it easily but I finally was able to go. I found out I was pregnant a month after I left. My ex has never and will never know he has a son. There was no way he would ever be able to teach him to be an abuser. After much therapy and many years of building an amazing life I can finally say I found healing. I have the most awesome son is truly a man and the kindest soul you'll ever meet. 25 years since I married and I still don't have the courage to meet anyone or get involved but life is good. I just want to do what I can to help others.

Three beautiful kids later, three houses later, and 10 years later, I finally had the courage to leave.

I went through this kind of thing twice in my lifetime. Once as a child and once as an adult too. I know I'm not alone. There are many who have had this twice sometimes more in a lifetime mine the first one happened when I was 6 to 8 years old. The second one I was much older in my late thirties. Having been through it twice in a lifetime takes allot out of you but somehow you persevere even if you don't think you can. My adult one happened in my last foster home.Tt happened over 4 years I was trying to keep the peace in my home. And he took advantage. I want everyone to know I'm ok now I live in a better place now. Just sometimes it overshadows me. And I know it's not my fault. Thanks for listening.

As man who suffered abuse and watched as my mother and sister suffered it with me, here's my story. I have turned it into a book called Book Name that will be published in 2025, in the hopes my story will help others who have been silent to speak up and speak out. Growing up in 1960s City, my father’s explosive temper ruled our house like a storm that never stopped raging. His beatings were a ritual—unpredictable but inevitable. His belt was his weapon of choice, and I was the target. First came the verbal assault. “You’re worthless!” he’d scream, spitting his venomous words before unleashing the belt on me. The crack of leather against my skin was sharp, but what cut deeper was the fear that filled my every moment. His attacks were brutal and relentless, and I learned quickly that crying only made it worse. I developed a mantra to survive: “I’m not crazy; he is.” I scratched those words into the wall beneath my bed and held onto them like a lifeline, clinging to the idea that this madness wasn’t my fault. But no mantra could protect me from the pain or the scars that came with each beating. My body bruised and welted, and I carried those marks into adulthood, hidden beneath layers of clothing and false smiles. When I was six, a moment of curiosity nearly killed me. I had been playing outside, tossing sticks into a neighbor’s burning barrel, when a spark landed on my nylon jacket. Within seconds, I was engulfed in flames. As I screamed and ran, my back burning, a neighbor tackled me into the snow, saving my life. In the hospital, as doctors worked to heal my third-degree burns, my fear of my father overshadowed the pain. When I came home, still covered in bandages, my father’s violence continued. He slapped me across the face for not attending the party he had arranged for my homecoming. The message was clear: no amount of suffering would earn me compassion from him. His cruelty was unyielding, and I realized that nearly dying had changed nothing. As the physical scars from the fire healed, the emotional scars festered. I lived in constant fear, not knowing when the next beating would come. His footsteps sent shivers through me, each step a reminder that I was never safe. Even after his death in year his influence loomed over me. I was relieved he was gone, but unresolved grief and anger remained. I sought to reinvent myself in university, throwing myself into academics and work. I was determined to escape the trauma, but no matter how hard I ran, it followed me. The violence I experienced as a child soon became violence I inflicted on myself. In my twenties, bulimia became my way of coping. I would binge on food and purge, as if vomiting could expel the pain I had carried for so long. It was a twisted ritual of control, and yet I had no control at all. Afterward, I would collapse in a heap, my body drained but my mind still haunted by memories I couldn’t outrun. Each cycle promised relief, but it never lasted. Obsessive exercise became another outlet. I spent hours in the gym, pushing my body to its limits, believing that if I could perfect my exterior, I could somehow fix the brokenness inside. I built muscles to protect myself, but the mirror always reflected the truth—hollow eyes staring back at me, the emptiness never far behind. Even as I climbed the ranks in my career, becoming a corporate executive, the gnawing self-doubt persisted. I was successful, but success didn’t heal the wounds my father left. I also sought comfort in strangers. Fleeting encounters became a way to fill the void inside, offering temporary escape from the relentless pain. But after every encounter, the emptiness returned, more consuming than before. No amount of running, lifting, or sex could fill the gaping hole in my heart. I was numbing myself, not living. It wasn’t until I sought therapy that I began to confront the traumas I had buried so deeply. My first therapist suggested writing letters to my parents, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It took finding the right therapist—someone who pushed me to go beyond the surface—to finally begin the healing process. Slowly, I unraveled the layers of pain, facing not only the abuse from my father but also the self-inflicted harm I had continued to impose upon myself for years. My wife, name became my greatest support, helping me peel back the layers and confront the darkness I had hidden for so long. Together, we built a life of love and connection, but even in those happiest moments, the shadows of my past never left me. When my mother passed away indate, I found closure in our complicated relationship. Forgiveness—both for her and for myself—became an essential part of my healing. Today, I use my story to encourage others to speak up and break the silence around abuse. The pain I endured was not in vain. I believe that our past can fuel our purpose and that, ultimately, our pain can become our power.

I am here today alive and healing after 22.5 years of physical, emotional and sexual abuse. The world does not understand, therefore they choose to judge you not understanding that it is a control game with the abuser. The abuser makes the rules, breaks the rules....it is the abuser's game. NO MORE. After throwing him out I thought I could fix myself. First let me say YOU ARE ENOUGH, YOU ARE WORTHY, YOU ARE LOVED! Don't be Silent anymore! I use to think I was alone. Have you ever heard the phrase "Look what you made me do"? He made me feel that I could fix and make it better so he would not beat me anymore. You can't fix what you did not break. I was not the issue He was. I gave up after he threatened to Kill me many times and of course when the kids came along If I did not do what he wanted he threatened to kill them. As is said here NO MORE! The Shame, Guilt you feel is because of your abuser....just like mine was. Get Out first there are people to help and protect you! He threatened to kill our daughter when I finally said ENOUGH! The last 3 years the journey has been hard after 15 years of believing I could fix myself. I get counseling for my anxiety, PTSD and Depression. Never Give Up! I learned my Husband was a liar said he loved me, that is not Love. You deserve better!!!!! Get Out, Get Help................I love you!

Healing is saying the secrets that you hid from the rest the world so you could get up, put up, and never give up. Healing is not lying to yourself anymore by saying, "Everything is fine." Healing is giving yourself the time to process the myriad of emotions that came flooding in when you finally left your abuser. Healing is forgiving yourself for the choices you made. Healing is not believing all the derogatory things you were called to control you and make you question your worth. Healing is telling yourself that you are strong enough to survive on your own, "You got this." Healing is taking responsibility for any pain or suffering you caused your child to endure because you were too afraid of what would happen if you tried to leave. Healing is finding gratitude in all that you do have. Healing is finding a way to help others that have experienced trauma bonds. Healing is knowing that you deserves to experience unconditional love... Healing is a journey that can help you appreciate living in the moment.

No matter what your abuser says, it isn't your fault. You are braver than you think and stronger than you know. Your truth is THE truth, and your voice matters. My abuser would gaslight me constantly to where I was no longer certain of what had actually happened in a given situation. He emotionally, verbally and psychologically abused me yet claimed it was all my fault. After I ended our engagement and finally left him for good, he put an AirTag on my car and used it to track my location and stalk me. According to him, this was also my fault. He was convinced I was cheating on him - something I never did and would never do. I got an Order of Protection against him, and we went to court multiple times. It was the worst time in my entire life, but I survived. Two years later, I've moved across the country, started my own business and rebuilt my life. You aren't alone. Even if you feel like it, you have the strength of the survivors who've gone before you that will carry you through your darkest days. We stand by you and with you. It ends with us.

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.

My Domestic Violence Abuse began when I was five years old and continued until this last May. In my first Foster Home, I would be locked in my room at night with a lock on the outside of the door. I would have to drink my own urine if thirsty out of a chitterling bucket. I had my meals in the basement and made to lean against the oven if disobedient. Being hit in the eye with a belt buckle for trying on her makeup was just the tip of the iceberg. The second Foster Home was just as bad. I begged the Social Worker not to send me there because even at the age of eight, I knew that the Father was a creep. But, of course, I was forced to live there anyway and by the age of ten, he raped me. Fast forward to 2012 when I met Name of Serial Killer. After dating him for two weeks, I told him that unfortunately, I didn’t think a Relationship would work because he idolized Name (another Serial Killer). He walked over to his drawer, pulled out a 357’ magnum, and asked me if I were ready to die. Fortunately, my Faith in God saved my life because instead of being terrified, I was angry and asked him if he had lost his mind and demanded that he get that gun out of my damn face!! The next time I saw him was on the News in handcuffs after Authorities found the bodies of the victims he murdered. This past May, I finally found the courage to leave my abuser after 8 years. He pulled out a gun on me and my two Autistic Adult Children. I was ugly, fat, deserved to not have Parents or a Family. My children were demons and retards. Although my children and I are finally in a Home after living in a Roach infested Hotel for four months, we’re suffering financially. Sleeping on deflated air mattresses and an old couch. I find myself wanting to contact my Abuser because at least when we were with him, we had nice clothes, furniture, and an abundance of food. I’m extremely depressed and confused right now.

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

...during the holidays, my mum would take me up-country to stay with my grandma. My grandma lived with my two older cousins(let's name them: T and K) who stayed there after their mum passed away years back. Near my grandmothers house was another homestead, which was also our relatives. I had older cousins from that side too, but only two were living there coz the others were working in urban cities in our country. I remember every evening, T and K would normally go fetch water by the river and they couldn't leave me behind coz i was young, and their responsibility and mostly my grandma had gone to the market...they took this opportunity to assault me, i remember i always refused and told them God would be mad coz deep down i felt it was wrong, but they brainwashed me, telling me God is pleased and that it's not wrong. They occasionally did it, even when we were in the house, they touched my private parts, forced me to touch theirs and do all sorts of disgusting things. When my grandma travelled and could not come over night, One would undress me and order me to lay with him...From the other homestead(let's name him: C),he was a drug addict, he normally called for me and when i persisted he came for me, he lured me with candy which was my favourite...When the holiday came to an end. i tried telling my mum that i didn't wanna go back to my grandma but she never understood and i feared telling her. From the first incident, i felt shame and helpless...i tried getting rid of the situation but it was always after me, I was too young...6 to 10 years old. The older i got the more i understood all that was going on...but i've been forever stuck, i have social stigma and hate men(slightly fear), i try to console myself and forget all that occurred but with defeat. I'm always ok until i remember and my world crumbles. I don't know how to heal or overcome but just act like it didn't happen coz after all what would they do after the know what happened??It's easy for me to overcome all things apart from this, and i don't know why...or it's because i still get to see them every time despite (eventually) the assault come to an end ?? I've really never spoken about it, this my first time and it's a way of healing...hopefully i do, by reading the other stories on this page

Last year, I was Lilly. The first time he shoved me down on the couch, the second time he threw me across the room into our daughters bouncer, the third time he broke his entire knuckle on my face causing two black eyes and my forehead to be three times its size. It only continued from there. I spent so many nights begging him to not kill me, he would me hold on the bed and try to suffocate me. He dragged me into the woods once, and grabbed me by my throat and threw me. After he broke his knuckle on my face, he took me to the store to get the make up to cover up my black eyes and we laughed about it. After every incident he would cry to me and tell me he didn’t want to be like this. I finally got out, you can too❤️

I was sexually assaulted when I was a child, raped when I was 18, and have been mentally emotionally and verbally abused since I was 19 and I am now 25. The saying is true, it does get worse the more you stay but what people don’t talk more about that needs to me, is the reason people like us don’t just get up and walk away. It’s hard, it is. It takes willpower, mental strength. Cutting that tie from the abuser seems like it will never happen, but once it does, it is the best feeling ever.

I am now 74 years old and still suffer PTSD related to my abuse over 50 years ago. I was married for 7 years and 5 of them were spent trying to find resources so I could leave. Unfortunately, there were none. The police officers would tell me, “You need to figure this out.” I had four children. My second son passed at 6 weeks. Which was a god send because my husband had another girl pregnant. She ended up getting an illegal abortion inCity. My third child, a girl, is still with me. My fourth child I gave up for adoption because I was planning on leaving and didn’t know what my future held. I was rescued by my father on a very chaotic night. I packed two suitcases and my 20 year old sister drove me to their house while my father stayed behind to confront my husband. Of course he completely denied any abuse but my dad had proof that he couldn’t argue with. I believe my dad threatened his life. Within two weeks I was in counseling that was charging what my income was. Nothing. So my counseling sessions were $1.50 a week. I had a hysterectomy that my husband refused to let me have, and signed up for nursing school. I lived with my parents for a little over a year until I graduated. I bought a beater car and became a single mother of 2. I am not an easy person to know because of my suspicions about peoples motives. Trauma is something that fades with time. I married again after five years and have been married 42 years. My message is to never give up. Thankfully, there are many resources for women now. Push and push hard to be seen and heard. I finally found my voice, you can too.

I am a survivor of abuse from a partner. With this abuse I was learning how the system fails to have safety nets for helping women in need. Domestic Violence grows in closed doors situations. I want the public to learn that I went to college and was emotionally abused by a Spouse who was running a double life. This abuse was able to be successful because isolation was first done followed up by manipulation, control, drugging, sex trafficking, Domestic Violence, abuse, slavery and because the gas lighting was so good I prayed for death. Now I'm left feeling broken with PTSD and huge trust issues. No-more will I put myself in that situation. I trust no-one now. Forever alone. Forever sad.