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Freedom is Glorious I've been working alone the past two days, and instead of taking out the scissors and cutting my hair, I took out an old CD of pictures and remembered how far I have come in this journey. I found pictures of the animals I left behind so very long ago ~ his pets who were like children to me ~ I teared up at their precious faces and remembered how much I love and miss them every day. Then I found some pictures of me taken in my old rental office on campus the night before my 41st birthday. And I was amazed at how clear and blue and full of life my eyes were in each picture.  The weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I stood tall and proud.  The color was back in my face, and my face was fuller because I had finally started to regain the weight I had lost when my food intake was so limited on the weekends. My eyes sparkled in those pictures.  I could not stop staring at myself.  The pictures were proof that I was free.  That I was me again.  I looked at the CD and reached for a snack.  And I thought about how I can eat whatever I want now.  There is no watchful eye mentally counting my calories ~ keeping the cupboard bare.  I am no longer charged $20 to eat a home-cooked meal.  I am no longer ridiculed for not cooking that home-cooked meal myself. I can do what I want, say what I want, feel what I want, wear what I want.  I am not some dress-up doll used to cloak in leather to be propped up on the back of a motorcycle for the whole valley to see ~ no I am middle-aged now, often without make-up, and finally comfortable in my own body not to care if I am not perfect. Because perfect was never good enough anyway. I can speak again.  I have a voice.  I can have an opinion on anything I want.  I see my family again on all holidays.  I do not have to lie about where I am living.  Where I am going.  What I am doing. There is no shame anymore.  No more secrets.  Even the writing I am doing has eliminated the secrets from the people I care about the most. I think about all of these changes as I ponder what it is like for him to be sitting in jail right now.  To have his freedom finally taken away from him.  To be told what to do, when to do it.  And to be isolated from family and friends. It took the news of his jail sentence to wake me up to what I had blocked out for so long.  To bring those horrible memories back up to the surface in dreams, flashbacks, and fleeting moments of sadness.  To finally realize that I had to write down my truth, or they would never go away.  He would still be controlling me in my head through those nightmares, those flashbacks.  He would still be present in my life if I did not get rid of him by writing down all the ugliness of our time together and sharing it with the world. He never wanted me to be a writer.  He made fun of my dream every day.  And it hit me today that the irony of my life story is that one of the biggest stories of my life will now be about him.  And maybe there will come the book or the screenplay out of all of this ugliness that I have shared with the world.  Because if you can skim off the scum, if you can sand down the rust, beneath the surface of all that pain and sadness is the beauty that was once there ~ that was once my life ~ that was once me. Beneath the surface lies the freedom that never really left my side.  Freedom was waiting in the distance for me all along.  Freedom was God taking care of me through the whole ordeal and seeing me through to the other side.  Where life is precious and pure and sweet. Freedom led me to a new life where I can now help others as they had once helped me. Freedom came with its own price ~ the scars beneath the surface that may have scabbed over ~ in order for me to survive. But those scars are my battle wounds for my freedom.  I paid the price for a new life.  I earned my freedom.  I survived.

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.

After seeing 'It Ends With Us', I felt I wanted to share my story. I saw this movie alone for the first watch, brought my Atlas to the second, and my bestfriend to the third. Watching it left me feeling empowered to anonymously share my story of abuse and violence. The film and the book brought back so many raw emotions, ones that I still struggle with today. My story started when I was 16 years old and I was with my first 'love', everything was OK in the beginning - but suddenly everything changed. I was constantly told how worthless I was, I got pushed down his stairs - but I wouldn't leave - and I didn't know why. He was controlling and did not like other people talking to me, going to extreme lengths to stop this from happening, and making sure my friends did not see me - people who he saw as a threat. I ended up in the hospital because of him, where he broke my hand. He got that mad at me once, we were in his car and just before I could shut the door and put on my seat belt, he started driving recklessly to scare me. What scared me more was when I was sleeping and I felt his hands around my throat - with no explanation. There were many times that I would say stop and he would carry on because he told me he was in control. I had cigarettes put out on me -multiple times, and was told that I was disgusting and looked like a sl*t, even telling me I was 'fat' - which led to further health issues. When I ended up with a bruise, my friend who is now my Atlas noticed - we worked together. I confined in him, and he was the first person to properly listen to me, and let me share my experiences. Throughout all this, it brought me overwhelming anxiety and depression and even the lengths of having to have therapy because to me it was a nightmare even when it was over, and reported multiple times. My parents never understood, asking me why I didn't just leave, telling me I must've wanted it to carry on. I didn't. I'm nearly 10 years later now, with my Atlas of 5 years, feeling happier and in a better place physically and mentally - I'm still healing. This movie brought me to tears and I related so much to Lily Bloom - some of it felt like my experiences - but the film also brought me a type of feeling of freedom and happiness. Thank you for letting me share my story. ❤️

I am Name years old single mom of two beautiful kids ages 10 and 12 years old. I was once a victim of abusement, harassment, assault, defamation, and rudeness of other people when I am just a simple, kind and silent person. Until now, they still look down on me and I don't know what have I done why they hate, angry and so rude to me. They are treating me like I am not an educated person when I am and they keep on look down on me because we are just simple and in a middle class person or family. And they think that they think better than me and I don't have any complain of it but they keep trying to argue with me that I am a better dumb person to them. And it's kind of abusing to think of that way that they think like that to me and that's insult me of my human being. I don't know what to do right now on how to express of this. My family I dont know if they doesn't know about this or they know about this or just hiding from me that they know everything but they really dont agree with me all the time or don't believe in me. What help should I seek for this matter of existence!?

To my fellow survivor, I am a 9 year survivor of sexual assault. I am proud to be sharing my story, and hoping my words can provide comfort and courage. Something that was very important to me was reporting my rapist. Fear takes over our body, and we feel numb. I wanted to cocoon myself in a blanket and stay there forever. The thought of contacting law enforcement was terrifying. Taking that scary step can make you feel empowered. I wanted my voice, my story, and my emotions to be heard. There is a quote “speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.” This quote carried me through one of the most difficult times in my life. When we speak our truth, we are no longer carrying this alone. You are being heard and taking back the power. Share your story, heal with love and care, and most of all surviving is the bravest of all. “I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do.” Brené Brown

It took 10 years of emotional, physical and financial abuse from a narcissistic man to realize that I stayed because it felt normal. My childhood wasn’t a healthy environment. So when I met my ex his avoidant and violent nature felt right. The gaslighting and love bombing were so common in my childhood home, I didn’t see the red flags when they popped up. Today I’m still struggling with imposter syndrome. How much of it was real affection? How much was more manipulation and lies? I wanted to share this, because sometimes I need to be validated that it all did happen, it wasn’t a fever dream. So I hope this helps someone out there. You’re not alone. What you’re feeling is valid. It’s scary and confusing at first, but it gets so much better. One day at a time. One small healthy decision at a time. It’s not gonna get better overnight, it will take a while. It’s been 1 year since we split, 2 months since the divorce. I’m taking my time to reset my nervous system and figure out who I am, without his narrative over me. You are loved.

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.

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

At a young age, I started therapy. I found through therapy I grew up with narcissistic parents, and my sister developed narcissistic traits. I was the scapegoat in the family. My parents taught my siblings and I that family comes first. My family took advantage of my sensitivity. They expected me to do everything for them. If I did anything for myself, I was told I am selfish. After years of therapy, I learned that explained a lot as to why the relationships I had felt similar to what I had with my family. I never knew my childhood trauma linked to my relationships. My daughter's father abused us emotionally, mentally, and physically. Hitting, slapping, belittling, name calling and more. A lot like how my family treated me, but minus the physical abuse. Eventually he left. Before he left, he pinned me to the wall and threatened to hit me. He left. I got a restraining order. He broke it by coming to my house. No one was home at the time, but he was there because he left a note on the gate of my house. That happened two more times. After awhile, it stopped. A few years later, I attempted another relationship. I ended the relationship last year. I had to. He was a combination of my dad and my daughter's father when it came to narcissistic abuse and domestic violence. After finding my current therapist, my therapist said she she is proud of me. She said I was able to break the generational chain of abuse. It was scary to break up with my now ex, but I wasn't happy. The healing is scary, emotional, but necessary. Both my Down Syndrome daughter, and I are blessed to have each other.

My name is Name, I’m an indigenous person from Place, USA. I’m a daughter, sister, mother, and a Survivor. I never really thought that I would end up in the relationships I ended up in but, here I am sharing my story! The last 12 years of my life I had been in and out of relationships, had two sons out of two of those relationships. They are the best parts of those relationships and times in my life. I know they in some way saved me and helped me survive to be here today sharing. My last two relationships I were in, were the worst abusive relationships. My youngest son came out of one of them, and to this day I still have to deal with one of my abusers because we have a child together. In that relationship I was physically, emotionally, mentally, financially, and sexually abused. I went through things that I didn’t even know that happened until the next day or days after. My ex we can call him Nameabused me mostly when he was already drunk, it was always when we were drinking that he would start arguments with me or his jealousy would come out more. Little did I know that at one time he had sexually assaulted me while I had passed out from drinking and when I woke up asking if something happened; something didn’t feel right. Nametold me “yeah you don’t remember?” And clearly I had no clue but according to him “I wanted it!” But how could I even know that or even say “yes” to anything being passed out. This was the first time he raped me but it wasn’t the last. Nameand I were in a relationship for 3 1/2 years in that time he physically would hurt me, force himself on me or take advantage of me while I was sleeping . It became unsettling to sleep at night knowing something might happen. At that time I was also taking care of my oldest son from a previous marriage and my youngest who was a baby on top of working full time. So I was exhausted from everything. I used to wake up to either text messages saying how worthless I was or name calling me because I had fallen asleep and not awake when he would get home. Or I would wake up to him yelling at me because I was defending myself in my sleep as he was trying to sexually assault me. Everything became my fault according to him. It was so dysfunctional, that at that time I was even drinking heavily. The pandemic hit and that was the beginning of the end of our relationship, I was so exhausted, depressed, just at the point of breaking! Our last fight ended with him calling the police on me and turning the narrative like I was the aggressor because he had spammed me on the ground and was hurting me, I defended myself, I felt so misunderstood and betrayed especially when the police wouldn’t let me speak and listen to me. I know now I’m not the only woman this has happened to in domestic violence situations. I take that as that was my way out yeah I got booked, finger printed and had charges which in the end Namedidn’t want either for me because he knew I didn’t do anything. In his words he just called them to “calm me down” he honestly thought I would go back to him after that NOPE! That was the end of it my freedom from him, with my sons. At that time I thought I would never get back into a relationship like that again, I knew the signs; I thought I knew it all! BOY was I wrong! My life at that time was spiraling out of control, I was lost but yet still thinking that I was completely mentally okay! I was dating and still drinking, I was rebellious at that time. It was almost a year later that I ended up meeting my last abuser, the one that almost ended my life! They say something you repeat things until you learn the lesson and I sure did that! This guy was handsome, charming, everything I ever wanted in a guy or so I thought! I’ll call him Name for the purpose of privacy reasons, but he really put on a great performance and mask! He was a small business owner and he made himself seem like he was down on his luck. He used the fact that I was previously in an abusive relationship as away to get close to me and give me false promises. Name promised me the entire world, I was “the best thing to ever happen to him!” And he was going to treat me the way I always should’ve been treated. Things went very fast for us when we first met. Our first meeting he was already referring me as his girlfriend. At the time I thought it was just so sweet and I felt like I was dreaming. For the first two months our relationship was amazing, he was good with my sons, and my family liked him. But at that point he definitely showed me a side of him that I didn’t like his jealousy. He made it clear that I couldn’t tapk to anyone of the opposite sex or have friends that were either. He slowly cut me off from everyone and everything! I quit my job because he told me to in the end and that I would be better working for him. Which that was a huge mistake! He and I were together 24/7 and it got to the point that where he started to verbally abuse me; his words were hurtful! He would tell me if I just listened and he obeyed him then none of it would happen but if I counted to be “bad” then he would continue to get mad at me. It wasn’t until about 6 months into our relationship is when Name became physically abusive with me. The first time it happened I was completely scared out of my mind, I froze, I was crying but I was told to be quiet or it would be worse. After that every time he would get mad at me I would be physically hurt on top of being verbally, emotionally, mentally, and financially abused. Those were the darkest moments of my life, there were days that I thought I would never get out of it. I felt trapped, and alone. Name made me completely dependent on him and I had to ask him to do anything right down to using the bathroom. I did nothing alone, showering, getting dressed, taking care of myself when it was that time of the month all of it! I was his prisoner! He would refer to me as his “Indian Slave” amount other very racially charged names that were so mean and hateful! He told me that if I ever left he would blackmail me, he kept complete control over me. He got my addicted to substances that I had never even done in my life, even doing drugs I had never even thought I would do! All to keep me under his control! This was a daily thing every day to obey him and if I didn’t then he would get mad for hours even days u til he would get over whatever he was mad at me about and then things would be “normal” for about a day or two then right back into it again. It was a sick cycle! I was exhausted mentally and physically! Survival mode every day is a lot for a person. The last and final time he abused me was complete torture, he tortured me for 3 to 4 hours and in that time He almost took my life! He strangled me to the point I couldn’t breathe, I lost my sight, the ability to see, and hear! I was close to dying! When he finally let go and I came back I knew I had to find away out, after being physically hurt more after that, hours had past he made me fall asleep with him. When we woke up I knew then I had to get my son who was in another room away from me and run! Somehow, someway I did just that, Name tried to hold me son against me not letting me take him, but it was my voice of screaming for my son that I was able to pick him up and run into the woods with him. It was the only thing I could think of to do and doing that with the clothes I had on and the clothes my son (youngest) had on I saved our lives, I ran to safety I knew the way I was going that the police station would be there. That was the motivation for me to keep going, thankfully someone had seen me with my son running and they called the police along with others who had called before, letting them know “hey this woman and child need help!” And they did I managed to make it on the main road and I was scared walking looking around hoping that Name wouldn’t drive up and try to take us or worse run us over, I almost asked someone for help but it was at that moment that I had looked up and saw the police coming right at me! I was all kinds of emotions, happy, sad, sacred, relieved! I told them what happened and I’m so glad I did as scary as it was to speak up it was the best decision I made for myself and my youngest son my oldest son thankfully want there at the time. But I knew that this was the time that I either needed to smarten up or I was going to end up not being here! I finally said to myself I learned my lesson and now I must truly, truly that this serious and heal from this and take a good look at myself so that this doesn’t happen to me again in any relationship. That was just over two years ago now and my abuser has been in prison for what he did to me, he got sentenced to 9 years, but he only has to do 5 years then he can get put on probation with speculations if he violates that then he goes back to prison for 4 years. I am one of three women that he has abused, I was the third one to speak out and the first one to put him prison for domestic violence. I’m in therapy and counseling for all the abuse I’ve been through and have been single since this all happened I’m taking my time, being smart about it all not rushing anything. I also will always speak out and share my story to help others because no one deserves to be treated this way! This wasn’t love! Love isn’t supposed to hurt like that or almost get one killed over it! So if my story can help others I’ll always continue to share. Thank you for letting me share this on here for others!

On Date, I escaped an abusive relationship and embraced the freedom of living without my abuser’s control. Just four months later, he was sentenced to five years in prison for the abuse he inflicted upon me. Although it felt like an eternity to reach that day, I’m grateful I didn’t have to wait as long as some survivors do. Many survivors never experience justice; some victims never become survivors. Life will never be the same for either of us or our families, especially our children. What's beautiful is that I am no longer the woman who accepts abusive behavior in any form. I don’t want to be the woman who tolerates less than what I deserve because I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be the woman who dims my light so that the man I love can shine brighter. I don’t want to be the woman who hurts myself in an attempt to save a broken man. Had my abuser had his way, I wouldn’t be here today. My children’s world would be a lot different. I have an amazing circle of family, friends, and coworkers who have supported me the best way they know how during this difficult and very emotional time. I love them and thank them for loving me by showing up and being there. I am now able to fully enjoy my children and live for them every day. I show up for them, strive to be the best version of myself, lead them, and love them by loving myself. It’s easy to say that life is a gift until you face a moment when you realize it could be taken away. I still have triggers and am taking it one day at a time. I have accepted that some people don’t deserve to be in my life. I am choosing me! I am choosing real love! I am choosing healthy relationships!

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.

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

My memory is no longer present. Attempted molestation as a child by a cousin, luckily my grandmother told me how to get out of these situations. Once he began to undress I made up a story and ran out of the room to let her know what had happened. I still had to see him at family events throughout the years because his dad supported him and did not believe me. My grandmother always believed me. At 16, my first time (if you can even call it that) was a sexual assault in my own home. My boyfriend at the time assaulted me, his cousin saw and I locked eyes for help but he just walked away. I had to hold this secret from my mother, afraid she would blame herself. I ended in a relationship with my perpetrator out of fear until I was strong enough to break away with support from friends. A few months later I was assaulted again by a college student on campus. My friend at the time had walked outside and he threw me down. Once she came back in, she was yelling for us and I threw a pen into the next room, which hit something to make a bang, as she came closer, he finally stopped. So much coercion I couldn't even tell you, sometimes it's hard to remember what was real. Now I try to be the person I needed. I support survivors with whatever decision they want to make, but let them know they are never alone. Thank goodness for our local sexual violence resource center to be there to provide healing. I wish I had known about this service when I needed it.

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

I did not know I was in an abusive relationship until I was out of it. I met him in college, and I thought the world of him. He had a lot of friends, on the basketball team, and everyone had nothing but good things to say about him. We got into a relationship and the first six months was bliss. Well, at least I thought it was. Slowly, he was turning me away from my friends. Making it seem logical that going out with my friends wasn't a thing I should anymore, since he's a recovering drug addict. If I was to be with him, then I had to make sure that he felt safe. To me it seemed logical. He made it seem logical, especially since we were long distance. Once we were close to each other again, I was the happiest person alive. We lived together for a month, and that's when I learned that he cheated on me. He exchanged pictures and videos with another woman. It broke me. He allowed me a space to vent and to yell, and he agreed that he what he did was atrocious, and that he would never do it again. Never do it again. I believed him. He kept reassuring me. He told me he loved me everyday. I believed him. Once he moved out (it was only temporary anyways since he was going to a different college), it felt like a breath of fresh air. I didn't know why, but I knew I needed the space. He relapsed, and my world completely shattered. He would leave for (place) for weekends at a time, blocking my number, and even taking my car. He justified taking my car. "I can take your car, while you enjoy your day with your sorority sisters." He made it seem logical. Again. We went on vacation. He called me saying that slept with another woman. He justified it. Me going out with my friends made him feel insecure because I get flirty when I drink, and I probably flirted with other guys while I was out. I said I would talk to boys, and he would ask what I would say. Then say it was flirting. I was already cheating on him because I was flirting with boys at the bar, so it justified why he slept with someone else. I believed him. I reassured him that I would never make him feel that way again. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I ended up begging for his forgiveness after he cheated on me. He continued to relapse, then he broke up with me. Saying that he needed space to get clean. He blocked me again. My mental health took a decline and I ended up in the mental hospital. I tried to take my own life. I became insufferably anxious and depressed. I only ate 500 calories a day. I was starving myself. While in the mental hospital, I called him. I asked for him to come see me. He said no, then proceeded to sleep with three other women. I had no idea. I got out, graduated college, and we went our separate ways. I moved to (place), and everything seemed to come up for me. Until I got a call from him. I said he could come visit me in (place). He showed up high on heroine. He was sleeping with another woman, I had no idea. We would fight all the time because I find him talking to multiple women on his phone. I would get angry, he would get angry. One day we were sitting in bed. We were fighting, I forgot what, but it was about something stupid and little. I went to leave and he grabbed me by the throat and threw down on the bed. He held me down by my shoulders and screamed in my face. Five minutes later he said that he was going to go to South (place) to get high. I begged him to stay. I consoled him. He bought me food the next day, and reassuring me that he would never do it again. When he was in (place) and I was in (place), we would fight constantly over the phone. Always about me wanting to hang up and go to sleep, and him wanting to stay up and talk. He came to visit me again, also high. He wanted to go out and drink and I said no. He said he was going to do it anyway, and I should just go with him. It would be safer. So I agreed. We had dinner, a few drinks, then we agreed to go home. He wanted to buy gummies, and there was no stopping him. He didn't want to do it himself because it would be more fun if we did it together. He was tripping, I was tripping. He left the apartment to take a walk. My heart felt like it was going to burst through my chest. He came back. We started fighting. He wanted to leave and get more drugs, and I tried to keep him at the apartment. He pushed me. Hard. He would slap me away, pin me against the wall. I got scared. He left. I called the cops. The cops came. I wanted a restraining order and they said that it would be a lot of paperwork, and asked if I really wanted to do it. I said well if it's going to be too much, then I guess it's fine. They talked to him. They let him go. I got a hotel room to stay away from him. He ended up staying with me because he was sorry, and he wasn't going to do it again. Again, I believed him. Two months later we were on the phone. I wanted to hang up and go to bed. He didn't. We ended up fighting. He got into his car and started driving to my apartment. He sometimes would just show up unannounced (it was an 8 hour drive). On the drive to (place) he was he was going to slash my tires, wring my neck, and that he was going to kill me. While also calling me a cunt, a whore, a bitch, anything you can think of. I hung up. Called the DV hotline. They told me to leave, so I did. I got a message from him on Facebook showing me a picture of him at his place, saying that he wasn't going to come. He also noted that he couldn't deal with more court stuff, so I should probably not do that. I didn't believe him this time. I got a restraining order. I ended things. I had to put myself first this time and leave the abuse. This was a five year period. There was so much emotional abuse. Then it turned into physical. I became fearful for my life. Knowing that one day he might actually kill me. He used to say to me, "If you died it would probably be because of me." He would say it jokingly. Now I know it probably wasn't a joke. There was so much more that happened. Sexual abuse, just something I'm not ready to talk about yet. I didn't even know it was abuse at the time until I started doing more research. I'm so proud of myself, but also still incredibly shameful for being with this man for so long. I'm just happy that I'm out. I'm still dealing with the mental turmoil, but I'm trying my best. Thank you for reading, and I hope this helps some of you! Stay strong. You're already making a great step just by being here. I'm proud of you.

As a domestic abuse survivor, I can tell you that our scars are not always visible. I think the emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse is sometimes worse….. because it takes longer to heal from. My ex had me so turned around, backwards, and upside down. I didn’t know whether he was coming or going and often found myself desperately wanting him to stay, like it was all my fault and I had done something wrong….., the sad part is…. I am my healthiest and happiest self every single time he left. Then just when I thought I would be, could be ok…… he’d be back agreeing to counseling or being a better dad or whatever it took . This time I hope to have the strength to not let him back in .

Trigger warning. I was sexually abused at the age of 5. My mom’s boyfriend’s uncle took me on a tractor ride with my brother. My mom’s boyfriend’s uncle pulled down my pants and touched me. He dropped me off by the side of the road and took my brother with him. I ran after the tracker, calling my brother’s name. After he picked us both up, he dropped us off back at the house. I told my grandma what happened, and she wanted to call the cops. My mom said she would take care of it. She didn't do anything. The next time I was abused, I was 6. My mom was with someone else. He was my stepdad. He was drunk and got in bed with me naked. I don't remember what happened now, but my mom told me that I told her he raped me, and she said that I was bleeding. When I was 7, my step-sister wouldn't play Barbies with me unless I kissed and massaged her. She was 9. I should have just said no. I don't know what's wrong with me. When I was 14, my mom was dating someone else, and he would always touch me. I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. He said I was hot; he touched me everywhere, every day for four years. He chased me around the house, trying to get me to sit on his lap. He stood in my room watching me. I was afraid to go to sleep. I was also scared to change into PJs. I didn't want him coming in on me. I stayed up until midnight because that's what time he got up. When I fell asleep, I dreamed of him raping me. When I woke up, my pants were unbuttoned, and the zipper was down. I don't know if he did anything or not in my sleep. I told my mother what happened, but I don't think she wanted to believe it even though she saw him chase me around the house. At age 19, my boyfriend at the time raped me. I didn't want to do anything with him with his son in the room. He didn't take no for an answer, and he tossed me around like a rag doll. He took my phone and wouldn't let me call anyone. He called his two guy friends to take me home. I shouldn't have gone with them, but they didn't touch me. The guy I was dating gave me my phone back when I got in the car, and I called my grandma. After I went to the cops, they didn't do anything. At the age of 22, I was sexually abused again. I don't feel comfortable saying who. He did apologize, though. Watching Law & Order SVU gave me a sense of justice, watching the rapists go to jail. Mariska Hargitay is my hero.

I just filed a protection order in January. I have held on because I saw the hurt child within my partner and so it was easy to rationalize why he had negative behaviors. The last straw was when he apparently didn’t want me in the garage so he kicked over tools that were stored in totes and picked up an Axe and shattered a mirror. He looked at me while holding the Axe and I just retreated and created space because I didn’t want to create a reason for his anger to escalate any further. I am filing for divorce and am hoping to get sole custody as I want our son to have a safe and healthy childhood and my soon to be ex husband cannot provide that at this time. I pray he can heal but I cannot save an Adult as I cannot cause someone else to choose healing. Last I heard he is running around town looking to get high. I think he might just be reckless in his actions and emotions at this time. I have anxiety but I lock my doors and when he did violate the protection order he did go to jail so I hope that is motivation for him to not break it again but I’m not sure if it is or not. I was going through my google account and saw videos that he was putting cameras in our closet or bedroom which he did not notify me off. I also had to cut so much outside friends or people in general because he assumed the worst as others may be seeking inappropriate relationships with me, but that was never the case. I know he is most likely playing the victim but the patched holes in the wall the broken door frame and the shattered mirror tell a different story. If he wants to blame me that’s fine. My peace, safety and happiness is more important and my children deserve safe home.

HELLO PEOPLE , its nice we can share our stories over here . So im a 19 year old girl from india who has a very typical indian family of four , me my little brother, mother and father . So my story is , my father used to physically abuse my mother since i was some months old , it started . he beat her over silly reasons . then when i gradually grew up and reached class 1 i was 6or 7 years old at that time , my father made me study for an entrance exam for class 6th and the syllabus was all of class 6th and 7th 9(to be noted that i was in class 1 at that point) . so my father made me study high level subjects of class 6th when i was still in class 1 which was a very tough job for me . i couldnt understand anything , and then my father used to beat me . he never let me play with friends , go out , in short he never let me have my childhood as childhood . he was always very extremely focused on my studies but forgot that i was still a child . We lived far from my father's village where my grandmother lived so in every summer vacations he used to take me and kept me there in the village where he would give me tution classes for the examination prep so i never got to enjoy my vacations . When was home , again the same thing , study and watch domestic violence at home . i always had to hear really abusive words which as a child i got traumatized . so when i was in class 2 , my mother got into an extramarital affair which i found out eventually and i hated my mother for that i was very shameful and i wanted to tell my father about this but i didnt . eventually my father found out and i remember that day when he beat her so much after he catch her red handed . It was a divorce situation but even then they stayed. my mother was no more into affair stuff but still i hated her . i wished she would die . later as i grew up the violence continued at home where i had to stop them both , physical abuse , abusive words and everything continued . it was really toxic . they both used to abuse me and my brother verbally with words like slut , Name and any abusive slangs you can think of . this is to be noted that my mother was also not very decent or you can say nice , she didnt do household chores at time , didnt made food on time , was extremely lazy (to be noted that my father helped her in everything ) but she didnt cuz she was ill manned to be honest . and so all of this continues and when i was in 1 i had my first boyfriend and my parents found out and they kind of accepted it at the first so when i appeared for 10th boards , i scored a 90.2 percent despite being in love and stuff but my parents where not happy infact they shamed me for my result (to be noted that they have never been satisfied by my results even if i score the full marks or become the topper they just always compare me with other children which made my self esteem and confidence shatter ) . they blamed me and my love affair for the 90.2 percent i scored which was too less for them because i was not the topper , the topper was at 93 . and now im in college , 3 years have passed by after that result but still they abuse and compare me for my 90.2 percent . i attempted suicide twice but i survived and they dont know bout this . i always get suicidal thoughts . they have never given me any privacy , they take control of everything , dont let me go out , visit a friend , talk to a friend over call . its suffocating . now im 19 and im again preparing for an exam , they have continued they abuse , domestic violence and everything . they make me hear for anything i eat , they have locked me up in a room where i have a laptop and study and sit here the whole day . they verablly abuse me a lot . some days ago i had a packet of noodles when i was hungry because my mom hadn't prepared food and it was very late and my mom found out that i ate noodles and she called me slut and other slangs infront of all neighbours . they always have been toxic . please mind that i have no problem studying . but i dont think something which takes away your entire childhood from you is not worth it . So my entire teenage and childhood was destroyed . i dont know how my adulthood would go because they wont let me live they are always here to pull me down . i wish i could just die .