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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.

This happened back in 2023. I had met this guy through my sister because she had told me that he had seen my picture and had asked about me and wanted to talk to me. At the time I was living out of state, so we were talking and we got together a couple days later. During the time that I was living out of state I had to be on the phone with him 24/7 if he was home and I wasn't at work which should've been the first red flag, but the second red flag should've been when he didn't let me go out drinking with my parents on my 21st birthday and told me I had to be on video chat with him during my birthday party. A couple weeks after my birthday I moved back to my home state to be with him and things were going fine at first. But then things started progressively getting worse, the first job I got when I got back he also got a job there because he didn't trust me being alone. I couldn't go to my therapy appointments alone, I couldn't go to the store alone, I wasn't allowed to have friends but yet he was allowed to talk to other girls, I wasn't allowed to go to work alone when I got a new job even though it was an hour away from where we were living. It eventually got to the point where he had introduced me to a few of his friends over video chat and one night he had gotten drunk and accused me of cheating on him with one of his friends when I was in the other room making a Tik Tok video, we got in a fight and when I was trying to leave he grabbed ahold of my bag and shoved me into the bathtub. As I was trying to leave after that he took my phone and wouldn't give it back to me, he tried breaking it and was doing everything in his power to keep me from leaving the house. When I finally was able to leave and just go for a drive he was blowing my phone up trying to call me and when I went back to the house and decided to sleep on the couch until his mom got back from work he knew I was talking to a friend and he told me to choose between him and the friend. When I went into the bedroom to sleep for the night because I had given up with the fighting he took my phone while I was asleep and blocked that friend which I didn't realize until I left him 2 days later but the following day acted like nothing was wrong except wouldn't offer to buy me anything at the mall even though I was the one that drove us there and paid for gas to get there. When I finally got the courage to leave him it was because I had to go to work one day and as always he forced his way along. When we got to my work I was told that I wasn't needed that day which meant I was able to go home, the only issue with that was that I didn't have enough gas in my car to get home and not enough money to put gas in the car. So I called my mom and stepdad who live in another state and asked for help but told them what was happening and decided that day that I was done with everything. My mom told me that she would only help me if I left him which with the help of her I was able to. After I dropped him off I made my way to a safe location in town and locked my car waiting to be able to go get my stuff, while I was waiting he walked from his house to where I was parked and tried to get me to talk to him. After I finally left for good he was blowing my phone up calling and texting asking if I was seriously leaving.

When I was 16, I was attacked by a mutual friend. Duct taped and tied to the bed, I've never felt so scared. I just froze and I hated myself for a long time because I always thought it was my fault and I should've protected myself. I later learned that freezing is a natural trauma response. He raped me, I didn't ask for that, no one does. I couldn't speak about it to anyone because no one would listen, everyone just thought I was making it up. It took a long time and lots of therapy to be where I am today. 8 years later, I found my people and am thriving. If it weren't for the other survivors around me, I wouldn't be here today.

I grew up in a very violet household and later found myself in a terrifying situation after leaving my partner. I was stalked and maliciously attacked by him. I was unable to get much help as he was a military man and the city has more intentions of protecting him than me. It has made me one of the strongest people I know. I am a survivor and I use my voice and story to inspire others to get out and find a new way. It ends with all of us together.

At 19 years old and away from home for the first time…I thought I was in love. I married someone I barely knew. I met him at Military Training, and we got stationed in the same city. I wanted a wedding, but he did not so we ended up at the Justice of the Peace. This was one of the first of many things I did to compromise. Shortly after we were married, his true colors started showing. Slowly, I was isolated, moved away from all my friends and family. I could not do anything right. Everything was my fault. No matter how hard I tried it was never good enough. He forced me to watch pornography and forced me to do things sexually that I had not consented to. Yes, a spouse can rape their spouse. I was called all sorts of names, mocked, belittled, insulted, and worse. It was mostly behind closed doors; however, some was done in public. We would only hang out with my friends and family when he wanted to put on a show. At one point he moved his “friend” in with us because she had nowhere to go. After being diagnosed with an STD, I learned she was one of many women that he cheated on me with. She was his mistress in every sense of the word. At some point I lost who I was and began to think I was exactly who he said I was…worthless, ugly, and nothing. I was living in a fog. I could not make sense of my feelings or thoughts. I had no idea what to do to make him happy because no matter how much I tried to do what I thought he said he wanted it was never right. I attempted suicide which surprised my family, friends, and co-workers because I had never said a word. I had been able to put on a smile and always help others during the workday. No one knew the verbal, emotional or sexual abuse I endured at home. After my suicide attempt my family, and the few friends that still stood by me tried to get me to leave. I refused to leave. I was insistent that could make my marriage work. If I only tried harder. If I were only the person, he wanted me to be. Then, out of the blue, he was arrested, court-martialed, and sent to military prison (on matters unrelated to the marriage). I still tried to make things work. I would go visit him in jail, take care of our home, pay the bills, and try to be a “good wife”. One day he called asking for things he wanted. When I told him that I had not bought the requested items because I was looking for a part-time job to pay the bills (we had mounds of debt thanks to him), he called me “undependable”. It was in that moment I finally realized I deserved more. I yelled into the phone “You’re right; I’m undependable!” and hung up the phone. I then took off my engagement and wedding rings and proceeded to throw them across the living room into the kitchen where they came to rest under the washer and dryer. The next day I contacted a lawyer and within a few weeks we were divorced. We had been married for one year and four months and had known each other for one year and nine months. In less than two years this man had broken me to the point that I no longer knew who I was and kept me from making new friends at my duty assignment. The only friends I had at this point were some old friends from high school that I did not see often but they refused to be pushed away. His actions caused me to spiral into a pit of depression so severe that I thought the only answer (or way out) was to take my own life. Throughout my first marriage, I had a friend who told my first ex-husband to back off and that he was going to stay my friend no matter what. He kept his word and continued to always be there for me during my marriage. When I told him, I was getting divorced, he took leave and came to stay with me for a week so he could be in the courtroom with me during the divorce hearing. 2 years and 7 months later this friend and I were married. Like my first husband, I also met him at military training. Our whole relationship had been long distance except for the few months at military training and that one week during my divorce. We spent the first year of marriage apart waiting for the military to station us together. We got pregnant the first weekend we were finally living together. Once we were living together, his true personality quickly emerged. He was always on the computer due to video games and/or pornography. He could not be bothered to help if he was on the computer. He would yell when he was not happy. I called to say I was in premature labor with our child and he did not come to the hospital. Once the baby arrived, I would ask for help, but he could not be bothered because he was busy. As time went on, the yelling, silent treatment, name calling, not helping around the house, and just ignoring me only seemed to get worse. Then he got deployed. I discovered he was having at minimum one online affair and saying all sorts of hateful and nasty things about me. I confronted him, and he acted like it was not a big deal. I felt differently. It was a big deal to me, so I left. I filed for a divorce. He spent months sweet talking me until I foolishly took him back. At this point we were now both out of the military. We bought a house, and he went to school. I worked full-time, tried to go school, and took care of the house and our child. He still seldom helped with anything. I had to pay for childcare because our child bothered him while he was doing his schoolwork. The name calling, silent treatments and ignoring only got worse. I noticed he was punishing our child in ways that were not appropriate for a toddler and expecting things beyond a toddler’s capability. I started having panic attacks when I pulled into the garage after work because I did not know which personality I was going to meet when I walked in the house: Mr. Happy or Mr. Angry. His behavior after we moved in together did not match the behavior of the friend who was there for me during my first marriage; he had changed – or had he? He stopped telling me how much he loved me and how much he needed me and proceeded to tear me down or not talk to me at all. I had reached that all too familiar point where I was again in a fog and not sure what to do because everything, I did was wrong…unless he wanted something. I felt like I was walking on eggshells at home all the time. I remember he said something to me at a store one day and a woman made eye contact with me…her look said, “Honey, just say the word and I will help you escape”. I just quickly looked away. The final straw was coming home from work one day and finding my usually very active child sitting very still on the couch. When I asked what was wrong, my child said, “Daddy slapped across both cheeks for playing in some mud with the dog.” I confronted him and told him he had three choices: get help, leave or I was calling the police. He chose to leave and blame me for making him “poor and homeless”. Seven months after we separated, we were divorced. We had been married for eight years and ten months. We had known each other for ten years and seven months. He had gone from being one of my best friends to a total stranger who left me feeling even more empty and broken than my first husband had. It is hard to put into words the slow way both individuals managed to tear me down to nothing, to the point that I felt like I had nothing left to live for. Unlike my first marriage, the second time it was not just me. I had to protect my child. Both used verbal and emotional abuse to slowly control me and make me feel like nothing, make me question my sanity, and make me believe I was a complete idiot and loser. One of them used sex as a weapon for his pleasure and another withheld touch of any kind knowing that it is one of my Love Languages. Both could be kind when it suited them to make them look good or to get what they wanted. Thanks to both of these individuals I now know gaslighting, love bombing, flying monkeys, triangulation, projection, threats (both threatened to kill me), trauma-bonding and more are all part of a Narcissist’s play book. It was not me who was crazy or not worthy. They used these tools to get what they wanted and then tossed me to the side when I was no longer needed. Now that I know what these actions and terms mean I have been able to educate myself on how to recognize the signs, heal from the trauma and reach a point where I am able to share my story of survival. I had no idea who I was, what I liked, how to live a happy life or how to be strong. I could put on a good show for the outside world, or so I thought. I have since learned that my family and close friends could tell things were wrong. They were praying for me and standing close for when I finally reached out for help. When I look back over both marriages, I see God’s hand in them, and I know that it is because of Him that I am still here to tell my story. My first ex-husband walked in on me with the pills in hand and a razor blade at my wrist. For all the bad he did God used him to save my life by having him walk-in at that exact moment. He reported me to the military thinking it would get me in trouble but instead it saved my career and my life. His going to jail allowed me to get away. During my second marriage I can honestly say that the only reason I was able to get away is truly a miracle. I believe the prayers of my loved ones were answered by giving me a strength that came only from God, allowing me to stand up to him and give him those three choices after he slapped our child. How did I escape and repair my spirit? How did I find me again and become happy, strong, out-going, courageous, stand my ground, and know my own worth? I did it through the mercy, forgiveness, and love of God. I have spent hours in prayer and bible study. I have gone to Christian based counseling. I have shared my story with others. It has been a long road to recovery, but I know now I am a child of God and I am worth more than what those two individuals did to me. I will never settle again. Never settle for less than you are worth. You are worth more than all the rubies and diamonds in the world. You are His child. You are loved. You are beautiful. You are strong. You can. You will Survive.

When I was 8 I was molested by my older 13 year old “friend.” It was a typical grooming situation with secrets we can’t tell others that weren’t playing our “game”. This time was very confusing and I felt like I couldn’t talk to my parents or sister about it. It lasted for months- touching, hiding spots, secrets, oral sex, and vaginal sex. She ended up telling her friends at school - my mom was a school counselor that worked there. She overheard and reacted. She came to my elementary school and said that the girl said that I started it. I felt completely unsupported by my mom- unloved, unheard, not trusted, hurt, broken. I shut down from then emotionally. My parents didn’t hug me or tell me it wasn’t my fault or anything it was just pure fear and chaos and their disbelief that they didn’t know it happened even though it would happen in the same room as them sometimes. I told them this and they still couldn’t validate me or take responsibility- they never even cried for me- for the devastation I went through. We went on like all was normal. When I was 11 I started trying drinking. When I was 13 I basically wanted to die but didn’t know why. I went to a different school when I was 14 and it was all people that were upper class- I didn’t quite fit it but it was very important to my parents that we did. I was stealing to have the clothes the other girls wore- I didn’t want to depend on my parents. I then got into my first relationship at 15 and lost my virginity in the back of his car- it was abusive- verbally, sexually, emotionally and psychologically. He would intimidate me by throwing boxes, raging, screaming in my face for hours, calling me every name in the book and not letting me leave the house- he isolated me from my friends- and cheated on me whenever he wanted. That lasted for 2 years. Then I went to college, broken. I was raped 10 times when I was in college at parties or in their dorm room or mine. I woke up with a condom inside me one time… bruises on my vagina another… with no recollection of how or who did it. I was over drinking so I felt like they were my fault. I told the dean of students about one time I got roofied and nothing happened- he was a D2 football player so got a slap on the wrist. He then harassed and followed me for months intimidating me saying I was lying and ruined my reputation. I felt the same every time I woke up- confused, shocked, embarrassed, sick, alone, empty, raw, and scared to death- how did it happen again. I got sober thinking that would stop the assaults- I have since been assaulted and taken advantage of on multiple dates. Most recently, at work, I was sexually harassed for months and raped at my coworkers house. I reported it after he was reported to HR by another colleague and the state police didn’t do a thorough investigation and didn’t seem to believe me or care. He violated the restraining order and has faced no ramifications- he is a nurse. I have undergone trauma treatment for 6 months now. Healing means waking up in the morning free to do what I want, when I want, where I want, with who I want. I am learning how to voice myself and say no, set boundaries and speak up when I am uncomfortable. I have come a long way from the chaos and trauma that I reenacted without a solution. I go to sex and love addicts anonymous meetings- I went no contact, went through a painful withdrawal and am starting to see things differently. I see that the lies were not love. Love bombing isn’t love. I was chasing a fantasy of someone I wanted him to be but he never was. I live in mental health housing and I’m looking for a job. I have peace now because I spoke up. I am grateful to be alive. I pray anyone in an unsafe situation trusts the smallest voice inside you that knows what is happening isn’t right. I pray you get out safely with a plan. Don’t think “I should have” or “I was smarter than this” we are smart and we may have known better, but abusers are good at what they do - mine was when I was 15 and I recreated that traumatic hell for 15 more years. It needs to end now. I deserve a good life with a healthy person. I deserve to be treated with respect and love. I am loveable, and I am worthwhile. I say affirmations each day to move toward the life I want and not look back to a life where I was suffering in silence. I thank God everyday that I get the chance to heal, pray, laugh and have the chance to know what real love looks like, starting with my friendships. I hope to find and participate in therapy groups so I can continue to be vulnerable and heal. I hold on to the hope that I will feel safe in my body as I did when I did to prepare for EMDR. I had never felt safe in my body before. I will feel this again- I wake up every day with hope. Things are getting better slowly, healing is possible, and I am grateful for the start of a new life.

We met at a campus Christian fellowship meeting during my first week of college. We were introduced by a friend of his and he walked me back to my dorm. I assumed he would be a safe person since we met through a Christian entity. Up to this point, I had very little dating experience. It went from nothing to intense real quick. We never had the conversation about what we were and all of the sudden we were serious. It went from seeing him weekly at fellowship meetings to all the time, in no time at all. We were THE couple on campus. If we weren't at an event, folks were banging on my door asking where we were. Everyone wanted to be like us. There was never any “are you sure?” or “this doesn’t seem right” conversations from anyone. There was an expectation to see us at events around campus. The abuse was gradual – boundary testing and love bombing. Although I didn’t recognize it as abuse at the time. As far as the smaller signs of abuse, I remember I told him I thought hickeys were trashy and almost immediately he gave me an intense hickey and responses, “you mean just like that?” I thought it was just a dude thing to do but in reality he crossed a boundary I set on the spot. There were so many little things like that that didn’t originally feel like a red flag. If I knew what I knew now, that would have been an immediate no. He and I broke up after graduation. It felt like he dropped off the face of the earth. However, he literally showed up years later at my parent’s doorstep when I moved there to take care of my mother who was dying of cancer. Cue the love bombing again... I was already in a vulnerable place because of my mom. Once my mom passed on his birthday, he dropped everything to be with me. Looking back, he brought his baby sister and she made several comments about how I need to be “cheerful and smiling” because that is what my mom would want. It made me question why he brought her in the first place, because it wasn’t helpful. But, I still was in shock at how he dropped everything for me. We got engaged and married shortly after. The abuse continued. One day when I was heading to the grave site, I was sexually assaulted in the car and I tried to justify it by him not being used to me being dressed up and that I was being hyper emotional. These little escalations over time grew. The gaps between escalation got shorter and shorter and the escalation got more and more. He knew so much about my insecurities that he used it against me, by saying things like “who else will give you attention,” “I am the only man who has come back to you,” “you are hypersensitive just like your mom said.” He would also manipulate me and use intimidation knowing that the local DV shelter was not wheelchair accessible at the time, leaving me without a quick escape. It took me a long time to figure out how to navigate this and move forward. He enjoyed making me fear for my life, but then making me get my emotions together before seeing any of our friends. He enjoyed humiliating, degrading and making me fear for my life. One time he refused to help me accessibility wise (couldn’t get into a bathroom) and I had an accident – he enjoyed the ability to control things. More than a year before I left, I had a disassociation episode and lost hours of time. By the end of that day, I tried to leave and went to my church group for help, and they didn’t support me. So, I figured if they didn’t believe me or think that he is a good man being with a disabled woman, I thought I deserved to stay and I will likely just end up being killed. In fact, I am a strangulation survivor. He would put his hands on my throat and say things like, “you know how easily I can kill you” and once I replied, “just f*cking do it then and get it over with” – I was at that point where I didn’t care if I lived or died. Eight years later it was my birthday eve, we went to dinner – he had to work on my actual birthday – and we began to argue over him wanting to go to a friend’s house that night. Prior to this night, he would leave for three hours or more and I never knew what he was doing or if he was dead somewhere. So, I wasn’t fond of him going back to his friend’s house on my birthday eve and I muttered the statement “well happy f*cking birthday to me” and he replied with “you have only been ruining my birthday for the last eight f*cking years.” And immediately after he said that I unloaded on him. The last thing I said was – I know how long you spend at your friend’s house, and I will be gone before you get back. For context, in the past I tried leaving three times. I had been pulling away for a little bit to try and process what has been going on. Once after staying with a friend for an extended period of time I would question why I would go back but it felt like I was telling myself that it would get better. One time he and I had a nasty fight when he got home very late, and I said “are we going to talk about this or do what we normally do and sweep it under the rug.” His response made me fearful. I immediately dissociated as he banged his fists on the wall and was screaming over me. I curled up and time disappeared. His voice became just noise. Then something switched and he was back to normal. I knew I needed to do what he expected me to do in order to de- escalate. So we changed for bed and I didn’t sleep a wink. The next day I tried to get him out of the house and to church but it wasn’t happening so I just left. I dissociated and don’t remember driving into town. I made it to church and it was clear that I was unwell. That is when I finally made a full disclosure and it was horrible. My pastor said it was too busy and had me sit with his mother in law. After sharing my experiences with her, she said “Are you sure you understand what abuse really is? You just need to go home and be a better wife and appreciate how much he takes care of you.” as she gestured to my wheelchair. I knew I needed to get out of there immediately. I then found a friend and disclosed it to her. She had a similar reaction. This set me off. I got in my car and had self harming thoughts. But I made it home. He told me I might as well just stay. I thought I would just die here. There was more escalation and sleep deprivation - everything got worse. He told me if I went to stay with someone else that I would be a burden to them, and no one would help me due to my disability. Two days after I left, I went home for an already planned trip for Thanksgiving and folks knew something was wrong immediately. That part of the family was and always has been supportive of my divorce. They are two hours away so help is limited. The community I lived in and am back living in, so many people want to minimize abuse towards people with disabilities. They don’t want to see the severity of it. Other folks outside of my family were not that supportive. Many questioned my ability to know what domestic violence truly is. Most tried to justify his actions and tell me it couldn't have been that bad...after all, why would he be with someone like me if he wasn't a good man?!?! As if he must be a Saint to be with someone with a disability and “maybe he was just tired of taking care of me” – utter nonsense. I have had to make my circle small. I have learned which people get it and validate me vs those who made comments or don’t support me. The biggest thing for me was finding validating books and literature. Coming into Speak Your Truth Today and seeing similarities in stories and having that validation of not being over dramatic, over sensitive, and this is a reality I am healing from was a huge thing for me. I really hope to make it known what happened to me and make sure that even if you have the slightest inclination that you are not being taken seriously, find support elsewhere. You deserve help. Not all folks with disabilities need a caregiver. And not all partners are caregivers. This is a common stereotype/assumption that people can have. Validation was rare outside my family until I found SYTT. But know this – there is NEVER an excuse for abuse. Your disability didn't cause it, there's NOTHING you do to deserve abuse. Educate yourself on healthy relationships and know that you are deserving of a peaceful, loving, committed, happy relationship. Educate yourself on the nuances of abuse towards those with disabilities. Abusers use a completely different set of tactics. We have different barriers, complex needs and shame/ ableist mentalities are deeply influenced by our abusers.

My husband is abuse emotionally, physically and financially. He threatens to kill me if I leave him. I have tried to engage his family but they keep defending him. Everyday is a blessing that I am still alive.

Seems like it was just yesterday and some days it still is as I struggle to not be pulled back into the never ending cycle of abuse post separation. When I first decided to leave my children’s father my son wasn’t even one years old and my daughter just shy of five years old. It took going to a domestic violence center with my step mom and having to explain everything that my ex had done to the advocate to see and understand that I was experiencing domestic violence. I wish I could say that my story ends there… but here I am 7-8 years later still experiencing post separation abuse. I’ve accomplished a lot since leaving like graduating nursing school, paying off my car and most important trying to provide a safe and loving home for my children. Healing is definitely an ongoing process… We all deserve more than abuse no matter what form.

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

Women CANNOT physically harm men to anywhere NEAR the same severity tht men can women. Full stop. Before I experienced abuse, I nvr used to be afraid of men. I used to think I could reasonably defend myself against all but the biggest, most muscular guys, tht I'd be able to put up a good fight if ever necessary. Turns out, I had no fucking idea what I was talking about. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EASILY HE CAN KILL YOU, SIS. Or cause a traumatic brain injury or rupture ur spleen or break out ur teeth or... You cannot imagine how quickly & effortlessly he can permanently. change. your. life. Do NOT fuck around, sis. RUN. Get. Out. NOW. .... countless women before you miscalculated their risk & many paid with their lives. Please PLEASE act with the urgency tht your LIFE deserves. I love you.

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.

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 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.

I have no idea what I’m doing some days; I feel like I’m just moving in a body that has me up, down, and all around. All my life, I've always had myself. talking to myself was how I got through things. I would read books and teach myself what I needed to know to get by. Last year was my first time talking. Three years ago, I was contacted on Facebook by someone I once thought was family. At first, I was surprised and somewhat excited until I saw his profile picture. From that day forward, I have been in trauma therapy. Last year was my first time telling close loved ones and some family I trust my story. Somedays I wish I hadn’t of told anyone and some days I feel like im strong and I can conquer this and its that people say “if this did happen” to me, I know it did everyone involved knows it did. He reached out to me to tell me he had cancer and wants my forgiveness. How do you forgive someone for stealing your entire life? Life for me started around kindergarten, I lived in Europe I had a mom dad a brother and three sisters. Always knew I got treated different and then I found out why. My mom and dad used to always tell me I was too dark and ugly to be around the family. They used to make fun of me and call me names, one year they forgot my birthday and I got in trouble. The one year they did remember I was actually happy because I got a my little pony it wasn’t the one I wanted But I was still happy. A friend of mine had the one I wanted and I had the one she wanted so being kids we decided to trade. My mom got so upset she made me take a bath she came in the bathroom with the belt and told me to stand up in the water she beat me all the way into my room pick me up and threw me up against the wall holding me by my throat and she told me I had to walk to my friend's house and get my toy back and I was never allowed to play with her again. My dad liked to pick on me. We moved around a couple of times because my dad was in the military eventually we ended up in in the USA. One day we went to visit my grandma and my brother and I we're told we had to stay there. Everyone came to visit to celebrate birthdays and holidays. One birthday event my sister and I got into it our mom yelled downstairs and I say yes mom, the next thing I know my sister turns and looks at me and says “Don't call her your mom she's not your mom your real mom doesn't want you” I found out that day my mom was actually my stepmom her and my dad got a divorce he was somewhere off in the military and she decided to give us to her mom who I thought was my grandma. Life with grandma was her teaching me everything from learning how to tell time to helping with homework to washing dishes and learning how to cook. Then she got a boyfriend all of us kids thought he was the perfect grandpa like you and they got married and he moved in with us. Things were going good and then they started to fight and argue a lot he was stealing money from her and talking to other women she would say something about it and the arguing would lead to mental abuse I'm saying very mean things to her she would still have something to say and then that led to the physical abuse. And then she got sick and didn't wanna walk anymore…. The argument that changed my life ended with” make Namedo it is her time you knew this day was coming anyway” it started with small things I will feel stuff on my legs and my arm and he felt like he was touching me but when I would turn around he'd be watching TV then he started throwing stuff on the floor and making me bend over to pick it up but I had to bend over the right way. Then I started to hear the dragging of the bottom of his house shoes headed towards my door I could see the shadows of his feet I can hear the door knob turn I would hide under my blanket and hold my breath and pretend like I was sleep. I'd hear him walking towards my bed might feel his fingers going up and down my body I'm holding my breath and trying not to cry. The next thing I remember is waking up in the morning I would try to stand up and it would be painful in my stomach I couldn't really explain why so I didn't say anything to grandma then one morning it was red stuff down there and I got scared and said something to grandma she got beat and I realized the more I told her the more he would beat her so I stopped talking. She got caught trying to stick his tongue down my throat one day he came home with this gift for me I thought it was a towel. He laughed and he said no is your dress this is what you will wear from now on when you are cleaning and cooking with no panties. What I know now is it was actually a tube top but because I was 8 years old it fit me like a dress. There was this time he told my grandma he was taking me fishing, we ended up at his brother's house that night ended with his brother's son Running into the room saying enough because I saw him out of the corner of my eye watching as they made me dance for them and bend over…. The most troubling thing in my life concerning this man is the memory that I have of waking up in a room that I didn't recognize with a camcorder facing me as I was laying in the bed that I didn't recognize and my hands were handcuffed to a bed.. him and his brother were off to the side yelling and arguing and at some point his brother who he wanted me to call uncle and I caught each other's eyes but I shut my eyes real fast and pretended like I was sleep.. I remember hearing him say I think she saw me.. I vividly remember him coming to the bed uncuffing one hand pulling the needle out sticking it in my arm and on cuffing my other arm picking me up whispering in my ear go back to sleep you won't remember this I saw his brother leave and the last thing I remember was seeing him close the door to the room and blanket fell over the door And I saw him put the key up top he told his brother to close the door which was located on the side of the house and it went into the back basement…. I remember waking up in a lot of pain…. I went to go tell my grandma and then I remembered I was locked in the basement he's entertaining. So many nights are you suggest sitting on the stairs talked to my grandma through the door because she was told by my stepmom she wasn't allowed to let me out.. My stepmom would pop up and feed me every now and then some crackers bottled water she would throw it at me.. And then one day my dad showed up. He said it would just be Just the three of us.. She said we were moving from one state to another state. At some point we were driving he said he wanted us to take the road trip. Doing that road trip we picked up my baby sister little sister and he stopped in southern state where I met my biological mother for the first time, who are also found out was the same lady that used to call my grandma's house when I heard her voice because I used to answer the phone. Life with my dad I remember going to school with what I know now is called a hangover I remember throwing up a couple of times I was in maybe 4th grade he used to make us stay up at night with him and take tequila shots and he always made me eat the worm in the bottom of the bottle… life with him was military we got inspections on our chores we had to iron our clothes for the whole week everything had to be dress right dressed ,we scrubbed floors with toothbrushes.. my friends were afraid to come to my house. And 4th grade he put a gun in my mouth and he told me I would grow up to be nothing he said my skin was too dark and I was ugly and no man would ever love me people would never take me serious because I was too dark I was too black and people don't like dark skinned women they only use us, he said I would drop out of high school and have a whole bunch of kids by different men and I would be strung out on drugs my brother will be my pimp he told me he hates me because I look so much like my mother and because of that I will be punished every day… and he did just that....

Growing up the idea of a husband (or a partner of any kind) being forceful with their partner was romanticized everywhere. Luke and Laura on General Hospital were portrayed as this grand romance, all the while knowing there was a rape in their history. So when my now ex-husband started forcing me to have sex when I wasn’t in the mood and was physically in pain right after I had had a miscarriage, and continued afterwards, I had this misguided belief that it was acceptable and just part of a relationship. It wasn’t until I finally reached out for help due to depression and anxiety, after years living as an alcoholic to try to self medicate other abuse trauma, that she helped me grasp I had been repeatedly raped and sexually assaulted on top of being physically and emotionally abused. Coming to terms with this finally helped me understand there was a root to my unhealthy relationship with sex. Grasping that no, it wasn’t OK and just something that happened to be forced. The change in the way these things have been seen and portrayed has also helped me find a better balance within. I’ve survived that trauma, and lived to see marital rape removed from the rape penal code exemption. Taking back my power over my life afterwards has been difficult, but I’m still here. I can still help others. No More!

I was 17, he was 26. It was my first boyfriend and I was head over heels excited that I had my first boyfriend and that he was older. First year felt normal and I felt so happy. After I turned 18 there was a big shift. The following years were filled with coercion, manipulation and grooming. He hurt me for the first time while my friend was sleeping next to us at a house party. I had to stay silent while I was wincing in pain. When we got back home that night he hit even worse and it hurt to walk the next day. He cried and said it was my fault and said I made him do that. Manipulation continued, coercion got worse with threats like not letting me back into his apartment till I gave him what he wanted, another time he punched me in the arm out of anger and gaslighted me into thinking he never punched me after a bruise was visible. 4 years into the relationship, I always say to myself now it’s like a lightbulb turned on in my brain and told me this isn’t right I need to leave, I could have a better life than this. So I did, I opened up to those around me and found support in them. It was hard, I still had emotions to let go of and he tried so hard to keep me around by being extra sweet with me, but to this day I am so happy I didn’t fall for it again. Memories of him still haunt me, but I remember I am free now. People always ask DV survivors “well why didn’t you just leave?” It’s more than that. Once you’re in that cycle of abuse it’s hard to get out of. I pray to everyone experiencing this one day too has a lightbulb turn on in their head. I see you, i hear you and i wish you all the freedom

When I was younger, I was sexually abused. Those words still sting. He was a neighbor and family friend who gained my trust at a young age. I felt so alone, ashamed, guilty, dirty. I felt so stuck. It took years for me to open up and start talking about it. But taking that step, and sharing my story, began my healing journey. I was abused for almost 10 years before it stopped. I am here to share my story to say that there is a light. There is hope. Taking that step to share your story is the first step towards healing. Healing is possible. You are not alone 💙

This is long but I need to tell my story. I have to get it out of me. Almost 2 years ago my whole world was flipped upside down. My ex husband had had a couple of emotional affairs earlier in our relationship. I tried seeking therapy. His mom told me it wasn’t necessary at that time. Just a bump in the road. He was physical with me as well. I tried asking for help but I was afraid. I stupidly listened to his family and hid the truth from my own because I didn’t want them to worry. I had sacrificed years of my life, burned myself out, and completely lost who I was so that he could tour with his band. We fought a lot. I became frustrated with him that he was never home. He never wanted to do anything family related. When I begged him through tears to just do something with our son and I at least once a month, he told me I was being stupid. He never helped me around the house or with our son. His drinking began to worry me and cause problems. And he was consistently interacting and being wildly inappropriate with girls online (most of them being much younger than him). Every argument we had was about one of those issues. We moved soon after. To try and start fresh. To move past the “bump in the road”. Then almost 2 years ago, he came home from a work trip. He frequently traveled for work. He started pressuring me into sex. I was still affectionate but told him I was just tired from taking care of the house and our son on my own all week, on top of working a busy job. We argued. I felt like shit at the end of it. If I had just put out we wouldn’t have argued. The next morning, he dropped a bombshell on me. “I’m bored” he said. I asked him what does that mean? I didn’t understand. My stomach dropped. He proceeded to tell me how he had been looking into polyamorous relationships and he wanted us to be in one. I asked him question after question in a desperate attempt to understand where this was coming from and why this was happening. Was it just a sexual fantasy? Something that could only be fulfilled by another woman? Did he just want to be with someone new and not me altogether? He needed his “cups filled” as he so eloquently put it. I didn’t understand. He confirmed he wanted a full on relationship with someone else. To bring a third party into our home. By the end of the conversation I told him that I did not want that and that was not what I signed up for. That if that’s what he wanted then we would have to separate. He became frustrated by my answer and told me to forget about it. I told him I felt like there was something that he wasn’t telling me. Then he told me about the affair. An affair that apparently happened a whole year and a half prior (right before the trip we took with his family) . He hid it from me for that long and god only knows what else. I was beyond devestated. I felt like I died that day. He begged me to stay. Begged me to reconcile. After a short amount of time I agreed. Within the first week of our reconciliation, he told me that he had gone through his FB and deleted all the random girls. He was friends with so many because he just loves people he would say. He was very popular from being in so many bands as well. He said there was a girl who he had become good friends with. He said it was nothing inappropriate. She lived in our hometown that we had just moved from. We did have a lot of mutual friends with her as well. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable with it. She is a decade younger than him. Why was she having conversations with a married man? A couple of days later, she sent me a message on FB. She told me how he had told her how I felt uncomfortable. She apologized and talked about how she just had a lot of different friends and socialized with a lot of different people. I chalked it up to her just being young and dumb. Over the next couple of months, she began reaching out to talk to me more. I opened up to her and told her how my husband and I were in a reconciliation phase. I told her about my pain and healing. I told her about my insecurities he had caused. She told me about her dreams to move away. She told me about her boyfriend, we’ll call him “John” for the sake of the story. She complained how he was allegedly terrible to her. Then one day she called and said that she had broken up with John and she had moved out. My husband said we should fly her out to our home. He said we should let her stay with us for the weekend. To let her get her head straight and help her out. I told him no. I told him I was still struggling with healing and it wasn’t a good time. He told me that he wanted to help people and I was stopping him from doing that. After many arguments, he bought he a plane ticket without even asking. I felt sick. He clearly liked this girl. I started coming to the realization that I wanted a divorce. He was calling me crazy. He invalidating my feelings and healing process at every turn. I could barely eat or sleep. My health was affected in every way. It still feels like a fever dream. The next thing I knew, she was at our house. I have to summarize the rest because it’s still too difficult to talk about. But basically I ended up kicking them both out of the house and I told him I wanted a divorce. The next thing I knew, he had bought a camper and moved her up to our new residential state. I finally started listening to my intuition. When I found out he was moving her up and that they had gotten together, I decided to call her ex boyfriend, John. She had broken up with him only a few days before she had come to our house. I knew something wasn’t right. To summarize, after hours of talking between John, a mutual friend, and I, we had pieced together the truth. My ex husband had been flying her out on his work trips for the past year (that we know of) and they had been sleeping together. So the entire time she was reaching out to me to befriend me, she had already been sleeping with my husband for over a year. And to make it worse she was an addict. I felt myself break all over again. The last year since then, has consisted of a lengthy and drawn out (by him) divorce battle. I ended up finding out about at least 2 other psychical affairs. A friend reached out to me and told me how he had been inappropriate with another friend and made them uncomfortable. The rest of the divorce process is a different story. Maybe for another time. For now it is over and I do not regret how hard I fought to end it or to keep my son safe from an addict and psycholocally abusive mistress. I will never regret all of the work, tears, and begging that I did just to try and get the people that say they loved me and my son to keep someone like that out of our lives. I will never understand how they had the audacity to tell me they didn’t think she was dangerous to be around my son after they saw so much physical evidence with their own eyes. It physically makes me feel sick. They watched as their son called me crazy. Only to find out I was right all along. They watched as he bought a camper for him and his mistress before I had even filed for divorce. They watched as he continued to test me with hate and animosity and then used my traumatized reactions against me. I begged them through tears, pain, and yelling to do more. I begged for them to advocate for my son and I both. I begged them to stand up for us and tell their son what he was doing was wrong and to stop. I begged for them to help me end a divorce that I didn’t ask for. My ex feels justified in what he did to me though. He literally told me “we’re not divorced because I cheated. We’re divorced because we fought all the time and weren’t right for each other”. All the fights about how he was cheating and never around/helping me raise our son. I didn’t drive him to cheat, abuse, and destroy me. These weren’t mistakes that he made, these were decisions that he made and carried out for a very long time. These were intentional. He gave no room for healing with his continued hatefulness towards me. And he and his family used my traumatized reactions as his excuse for squirming out of any and all accountability. Every action he has taken since I filed for divorce has been only to discredit me and make himself feel justified. It’s easier for them to make me the scapegoat than for them to show shame or accountability. They bond over denial and hide in each other’s shadows. I still have a lot of shame and regret that I am working on healing through for trusting and believing in these people. It is a long hard process. The pain is lifelong. But I am thankful that now I know. Now I know what love DOESNT look like. I know what integrity DOESNT look like. I take responsibility in the fact that I should have left long ago and I put up with too much. I am responsible for losing myself the way that I did. I know that I did what I thought was right in my heart and I loved my ex as I promised I would when we made the commitment of marriage to each other. I worked hard to keep my family together but the reality is sometimes unity is not the healthiest or safest option. I stayed because I truly believed things would get better. That he would get better. That he would finally choose us. But the lesson kept repeating itself until I learned that I was wrong and I needed to let go in order to live a happy and healthy life for my son and I. I have learned so much and I hope that I can pass these lessons on. I hope that I can help even just one person not go through what I went through. And I’m hopeful that the lessons I continue to learn throughout this process will help light the way to a road of health, healing, and safety. I now feel safe to speak up and tell my story after so many years of silence and brokenness. I’m thankful to come home to a house that is no longer filled with hate and selfishness. Thankful that I don’t have to walk on egg shells everyday. I can create my own peace now.