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Welcome to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth.

This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

What feels like the right place to start today?

“Healing means forgiving myself for all the things I may have gotten wrong in the moment.”

Story
From a survivor
🇺🇸

#1316

I am writing this a mother of a survivor. My daughter was abused by her paternal grandfather from the age of 5 to 6 years of age. Her father discovered the abuse, as we were in the process of divorce at the time. I learned of it through a DFS investigator who told me over the phone what was happening with my child. I was devastated. Her abuser was arrested and after a short period of investigation, we went to trial. His attorney wanted him to receive just 5 years of probation and no registry. We fought against it as they had also found child pornography on his computer at the time. At court, he was found to have her picture even though he was already advised that he could not possess it or have any contact with her. He made excuses that he loved her. This judge did not believe a word he said and said that they were no more than "self-serving words." He was sentenced to 10 years for each count for a total of 20 years to be served concurrently with 80% mandatory. This was in 2011. Just 2 years later we received a letter that he was up for "early parole". My ex-husband and I attended. With him, he brought a letter that he had received from his father asking for a picture of him and our daughter. While there he spoke of having "friends" in prison that protected him from other inmates. When he was told that if he were to get parole, one of the conditions was that he could not have a computer or any device that accesses the internet. He tried to argue that he paid his bills online. His early parole was denied. During all this, we started to see a change in our daughter's behavior. She was having night terrors and was generally not our normal happy-go-lucky kiddo. When she was 9 she told me that she wanted to die. I called her doctor, took her to the ER and she was admitted. They diagnosed her with trauma-induced bipolar, generalized anxiety, and PTSD. She spent the next 6 years in and out of hospitals for suicide attempts and suicidal ideations. Then in 2017, he was up for parole again. This time she wanted to attend, because she was old enough at this point she would be allowed to speak at the hearing. To say that I was proud of her was an understatement. She explained what she had been through and that the 10 years that he was sentenced to was nothing compared to the life sentence that she was given. After she spoke, it was my turn, and then his. She left the room during his time to speak as she could not handle even hearing his voice. In the end, the gentleman handling the hearing came out and congratulated my daughter on her strength and that he was in awe of her ability to speak up for herself. We later found out that he was denied parole again and would complete his sentence. He was released in 2021. As for my daughter, she is doing amazing. She moved to California when she was 20 years old and has been there for almost a year. She is getting ready to start college for a career in ESL and has plans to go to South Korea next summer with plans to move there in the future. She continues to amaze me and fight for herself as well as taking care of her mental health. She has also stopped calling herself a victim and refers to herself as a survivor.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    “Every victim should have the opportunity to become a survivor,”

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  • “Healing is different for everyone, but for me it is listening to myself...I make sure to take some time out of each week to put me first and practice self-care.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Not Sleeping soundly

    I look back and am plagued by doubt. It’s less now but still it creeps in - did it happen? Was I too sensitive? Maybe I made too much of it? Have I remembered it wrong? What I know to be true is how I felt and continue to feel when he is mentioned or I see him. FEAR. It’s been 2 years and I still think about if he will like what I am wearing or will have a comment to make. I question my reality - ‘did that happen? Did I say that?’ In lost interactions with him. I met him on line 14 years ago. Things moved quickly, ish. I didn’t see it then but looking back he was ALWAYS there. He gave his friend keys to my flat and I arrived home with it tidied and reorganized. He thought I was messy and that it was a nice thing to do. I felt utterly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable with this but stayed and thanked him as I was left feeling ungrateful. Interestingly I didn’t introduce him to my friends - in fact I kept him quite separate. I think I knew that I didn’t want them to meet him as something was off and they would probably see it and point it out. Or maybe o was afraid that they wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t point it out so it would make me feel even crazier. He didn’t like how I breathed in his direction in bed. He didn’t like how I fiddled with things. (These all felt ok to change for him……. I really had no self love and held myself with very little worth). The first physical element to the abuse (which I can now name as such) was a confusing incident at the time. He was napping and I woke him and he grabbed me by the throat. I was so shocked and I wanted to run a mile but ended up being told that it was my fault as I woke him too quickly. I was brainwashed already (3 months in). I was hard wired for this though as I had be taught not to trust my instincts - how dangerous this was. I stayed for 12 years, 2 children and gradually faded away. I dreamed of leaving, I said I would over and over and I nearly did once but it took so much courage to do it. I was terrified of the financial implications. I was isolated. I was exhausted. And I did it. He would have ‘waking dreams’ during which he would scream at me, push me, throw things, terrify me but would not remember them in the morning or want to talk about them. He would say ‘ well it wasn’t me, I was asleep’. I went to bed in fear most nights. There were never any bruises you could see but so much had been pulverized internally for me. I was on life support. This is part of my story . A start. It continues as he is in my life as our kids are young. The emotional and psychological abuse continues but I am doing the work to reposition myself. I am taking responsibility for my part in my journey and this is both empowering and exhausting. This abuse is very misunderstood- it is dangerous and invisible. I am learning to believe myself and look to myself for validation and answers. With love

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Flowers bloom after the rain.

    Flowers bloom after the rain.
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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇹

    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Name's Story

    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.

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  • You are wonderful, strong, and worthy. From one survivor to another.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #1112

    In high school, I was in a relationship that I thought was love, but it was anything but that. At first, everything seemed perfect—he was sweet, attentive, and said all the right things. But over time, I started to notice that things weren’t quite right. He had this way of manipulating me into doing things I didn’t want to do. If I tried to say no or set a boundary, he would start crying or tell me he was a horrible person, making me feel guilty for not giving in to what he wanted me to do. I’d end up comforting him, telling him he wasn’t awful, when deep down I was the one who felt awful. It’s strange to think about it now, but back then, I didn’t realize how toxic the relationship was. I thought I was just being a good girlfriend, trying to keep him happy. When he broke up with me, it completely shattered me. I was devastated and couldn’t understand why I felt so broken. I thought it was because I loved him so much, but the reality was, I was mourning the loss of something that wasn’t healthy at all. It wasn’t until later, when I was talking to my best friend, that I started to see the truth. He gently pointed out that my ex was abusive, that I had been manipulated and controlled. He told me I had a toxic soul tie to someone who didn’t really care about me, only about what he could get from me. Hearing that was like a wake-up call. I realized that abuse doesn’t always look like what you see in the movies. It can be emotional, subtle, and so well-hidden that you don’t even realize it’s happening. Looking back, it’s scary to think that I didn’t know I was being abused. I just thought that’s what relationships were like, that maybe I was the one who needed to change. But now I know that love isn’t supposed to make you feel small or guilty. It should be supportive and uplifting, not something that tears you down. I’m just glad I had someone who cared enough to help me see the truth, even if it took me a while to accept it. It’s so important to realize that you can be abused in a committed relationship, and sometimes, you don’t even know it’s happening until it’s over.

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  • “I really hope sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    #1497

    #1497
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  • “To anyone facing something similar, you are not alone. You are worth so much and are loved by so many. You are so much stronger than you realize.”

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Healing is acceptance, forgiveness and being able tomove forward

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇰🇪

    you will eventually overcome, just trust the process

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  • Every step forward, no matter how small, is still a step forwards. Take all the time you need taking those steps.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    A Survivor Not a Victim 💕✨

    I have been sexually, physically and mentally abused since I was a child. My mother took my sister and I from our real father as babies and married a man who would abuse my sister and I for ten years, then divorced him because he cheated on her. This man would make my sister and I take our pants down and whip us with a leather belt. My mother would coerce him to do so, stating we deserved it because we were “bad”. All we ever heard growing up is how “bad”we were. They would send us away upstate to his cousins house for the entire summer, you know because we were so bad. His cousin, a (occupation) at (place) as well as a (occupation) would molest us and when we told them, they said we were liars, and again the bad stigmatization was embedded in our young teenage minds. This is just one abuse story, and the beginning of a long series of abuse I would endure over my lifetime. Almost every relationship, whether it romantic, platonic, or family, my trauma has touched, infected and I began to believe it must be true, I am just bad. On (date)I would be strangled twice, battered and almost die at the hands of a lover,. After months of denial and physically healing from the assault I finally had the courage to come forward and press charges. That is the day my healing journey began, after so many years of abuse I finally confronted my abuser. Now, I try to live minute to minute and some minutes are better than others, but I have grit. Resilience is my superpower! I am a survivor not a victim. I already feel better just typing this. I was looking for a safe place to release, thank you 💕

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Keep fighting and keep Goign don’t let theme silence you ok .

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  • “We believe you. Your stories matter.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇬

    There is still hope…. Dont give up

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇨🇦

    In the Shadows: A Story of Survival and Healing

    For years, I lived through something no one should ever have to go through. It started when I was young, and the person who hurt me was someone I was supposed to trust, my stepfather. He was supposed to protect me, but instead, he took advantage of me in the worst way. Growing up, I thought my stepfather was someone I could trust. He was supposed to be part of my family, someone who would keep me safe. But instead, he became the person who hurt me the most. The abuse started when I was just a little girl, too young to understand what was happening. It began with small things, touches that felt wrong, words that made me uncomfortable. But over time, it became something much worse. It happened mostly at night, when everyone else was asleep. I’d wake up to the sound of the door creaking open, and my heart would start racing. I’d pretend to be asleep, hoping he would leave, but he never did. He would sit on the edge of my bed, and I could feel his weight pressing down on me. I would lie there, frozen, too scared to move or say anything. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to make it stop. I just wanted it to be over. Sometimes, he would wait until my mom was at work or when she traveled. Those were the worst times because I knew no one was coming to save me. I would hear his footsteps in the hallway, and my stomach would twist into knots. I would try to hide, to make myself small, but it didn’t matter. He always found me. He would come into my room, and I would feel so helpless, so alone. I wanted to scream, to run away, but I was too scared. I didn’t know what would happen if I tried to stop him. I hated myself for not being able to fight back. I hated myself for not being brave enough to tell someone. But I was just a kid. I didn’t know how to protect myself. I didn’t know how to make it stop. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The worst part was the silence. I couldn’t tell my mom. I was too scared of what would happen if I did. What if she didn’t believe me? What if she blamed me? What if it made things worse? I didn’t want to hurt her, and I didn’t want to tear our family apart. So I kept it all inside. I carried the weight of my secret every day, and it felt like I was drowning. The pain and shame were too much to carry. All I thought about was committing suicide just to end it all, so that I wouldn’t feel the weight of what was happening to me. I felt dirty, broken, and like I didn’t deserve to live. I thought if I was gone, the pain would stop, and maybe everyone else would be better off without me. But somehow, I kept going. I don’t know how, but I did. I found little things to hold onto—a friend, a book, a song, anything that made me feel even a tiny bit okay. It took years, but I finally told someone what happened. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was also the first step toward healing. I’m still healing now. Some days are better than others. I still have nightmares, and I still struggle with trusting people. But I’m learning to be kind to myself, to remind myself that what happened wasn’t my fault. I didn’t deserve it, and I’m not defined by it. If you’ve been through something like this, please know you’re not alone. It’s not your fault, and you deserve to be heard and supported. Healing is possible, even when it feels like it’s not. You are stronger than you think, and your story isn’t over yet. You don’t have to carry this weight alone anymore. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let someone in. You are not broken, and you are not defined by what happened to you. You are so much more than that.

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  • You are surviving and that is enough.

    Welcome to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth.

    This is a space where survivors of trauma and abuse share their stories alongside supportive allies. These stories remind us that hope exists even in dark times. You are never alone in your experience. Healing is possible for everyone.

    What feels like the right place to start today?
    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #1316

    I am writing this a mother of a survivor. My daughter was abused by her paternal grandfather from the age of 5 to 6 years of age. Her father discovered the abuse, as we were in the process of divorce at the time. I learned of it through a DFS investigator who told me over the phone what was happening with my child. I was devastated. Her abuser was arrested and after a short period of investigation, we went to trial. His attorney wanted him to receive just 5 years of probation and no registry. We fought against it as they had also found child pornography on his computer at the time. At court, he was found to have her picture even though he was already advised that he could not possess it or have any contact with her. He made excuses that he loved her. This judge did not believe a word he said and said that they were no more than "self-serving words." He was sentenced to 10 years for each count for a total of 20 years to be served concurrently with 80% mandatory. This was in 2011. Just 2 years later we received a letter that he was up for "early parole". My ex-husband and I attended. With him, he brought a letter that he had received from his father asking for a picture of him and our daughter. While there he spoke of having "friends" in prison that protected him from other inmates. When he was told that if he were to get parole, one of the conditions was that he could not have a computer or any device that accesses the internet. He tried to argue that he paid his bills online. His early parole was denied. During all this, we started to see a change in our daughter's behavior. She was having night terrors and was generally not our normal happy-go-lucky kiddo. When she was 9 she told me that she wanted to die. I called her doctor, took her to the ER and she was admitted. They diagnosed her with trauma-induced bipolar, generalized anxiety, and PTSD. She spent the next 6 years in and out of hospitals for suicide attempts and suicidal ideations. Then in 2017, he was up for parole again. This time she wanted to attend, because she was old enough at this point she would be allowed to speak at the hearing. To say that I was proud of her was an understatement. She explained what she had been through and that the 10 years that he was sentenced to was nothing compared to the life sentence that she was given. After she spoke, it was my turn, and then his. She left the room during his time to speak as she could not handle even hearing his voice. In the end, the gentleman handling the hearing came out and congratulated my daughter on her strength and that he was in awe of her ability to speak up for herself. We later found out that he was denied parole again and would complete his sentence. He was released in 2021. As for my daughter, she is doing amazing. She moved to California when she was 20 years old and has been there for almost a year. She is getting ready to start college for a career in ESL and has plans to go to South Korea next summer with plans to move there in the future. She continues to amaze me and fight for herself as well as taking care of her mental health. She has also stopped calling herself a victim and refers to herself as a survivor.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Name's Story

    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.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #1112

    In high school, I was in a relationship that I thought was love, but it was anything but that. At first, everything seemed perfect—he was sweet, attentive, and said all the right things. But over time, I started to notice that things weren’t quite right. He had this way of manipulating me into doing things I didn’t want to do. If I tried to say no or set a boundary, he would start crying or tell me he was a horrible person, making me feel guilty for not giving in to what he wanted me to do. I’d end up comforting him, telling him he wasn’t awful, when deep down I was the one who felt awful. It’s strange to think about it now, but back then, I didn’t realize how toxic the relationship was. I thought I was just being a good girlfriend, trying to keep him happy. When he broke up with me, it completely shattered me. I was devastated and couldn’t understand why I felt so broken. I thought it was because I loved him so much, but the reality was, I was mourning the loss of something that wasn’t healthy at all. It wasn’t until later, when I was talking to my best friend, that I started to see the truth. He gently pointed out that my ex was abusive, that I had been manipulated and controlled. He told me I had a toxic soul tie to someone who didn’t really care about me, only about what he could get from me. Hearing that was like a wake-up call. I realized that abuse doesn’t always look like what you see in the movies. It can be emotional, subtle, and so well-hidden that you don’t even realize it’s happening. Looking back, it’s scary to think that I didn’t know I was being abused. I just thought that’s what relationships were like, that maybe I was the one who needed to change. But now I know that love isn’t supposed to make you feel small or guilty. It should be supportive and uplifting, not something that tears you down. I’m just glad I had someone who cared enough to help me see the truth, even if it took me a while to accept it. It’s so important to realize that you can be abused in a committed relationship, and sometimes, you don’t even know it’s happening until it’s over.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    #1497

    #1497
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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇰🇪

    you will eventually overcome, just trust the process

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  • “Healing means forgiving myself for all the things I may have gotten wrong in the moment.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    “Every victim should have the opportunity to become a survivor,”

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  • “Healing is different for everyone, but for me it is listening to myself...I make sure to take some time out of each week to put me first and practice self-care.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Flowers bloom after the rain.

    Flowers bloom after the rain.
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  • You are wonderful, strong, and worthy. From one survivor to another.

    “I really hope sharing my story will help others in one way or another and I can certainly say that it will help me be more open with my story.”

    “To anyone facing something similar, you are not alone. You are worth so much and are loved by so many. You are so much stronger than you realize.”

    Every step forward, no matter how small, is still a step forwards. Take all the time you need taking those steps.

    “We believe you. Your stories matter.”

    You are surviving and that is enough.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Not Sleeping soundly

    I look back and am plagued by doubt. It’s less now but still it creeps in - did it happen? Was I too sensitive? Maybe I made too much of it? Have I remembered it wrong? What I know to be true is how I felt and continue to feel when he is mentioned or I see him. FEAR. It’s been 2 years and I still think about if he will like what I am wearing or will have a comment to make. I question my reality - ‘did that happen? Did I say that?’ In lost interactions with him. I met him on line 14 years ago. Things moved quickly, ish. I didn’t see it then but looking back he was ALWAYS there. He gave his friend keys to my flat and I arrived home with it tidied and reorganized. He thought I was messy and that it was a nice thing to do. I felt utterly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable with this but stayed and thanked him as I was left feeling ungrateful. Interestingly I didn’t introduce him to my friends - in fact I kept him quite separate. I think I knew that I didn’t want them to meet him as something was off and they would probably see it and point it out. Or maybe o was afraid that they wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t point it out so it would make me feel even crazier. He didn’t like how I breathed in his direction in bed. He didn’t like how I fiddled with things. (These all felt ok to change for him……. I really had no self love and held myself with very little worth). The first physical element to the abuse (which I can now name as such) was a confusing incident at the time. He was napping and I woke him and he grabbed me by the throat. I was so shocked and I wanted to run a mile but ended up being told that it was my fault as I woke him too quickly. I was brainwashed already (3 months in). I was hard wired for this though as I had be taught not to trust my instincts - how dangerous this was. I stayed for 12 years, 2 children and gradually faded away. I dreamed of leaving, I said I would over and over and I nearly did once but it took so much courage to do it. I was terrified of the financial implications. I was isolated. I was exhausted. And I did it. He would have ‘waking dreams’ during which he would scream at me, push me, throw things, terrify me but would not remember them in the morning or want to talk about them. He would say ‘ well it wasn’t me, I was asleep’. I went to bed in fear most nights. There were never any bruises you could see but so much had been pulverized internally for me. I was on life support. This is part of my story . A start. It continues as he is in my life as our kids are young. The emotional and psychological abuse continues but I am doing the work to reposition myself. I am taking responsibility for my part in my journey and this is both empowering and exhausting. This abuse is very misunderstood- it is dangerous and invisible. I am learning to believe myself and look to myself for validation and answers. With love

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇹

    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Healing is acceptance, forgiveness and being able tomove forward

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    A Survivor Not a Victim 💕✨

    I have been sexually, physically and mentally abused since I was a child. My mother took my sister and I from our real father as babies and married a man who would abuse my sister and I for ten years, then divorced him because he cheated on her. This man would make my sister and I take our pants down and whip us with a leather belt. My mother would coerce him to do so, stating we deserved it because we were “bad”. All we ever heard growing up is how “bad”we were. They would send us away upstate to his cousins house for the entire summer, you know because we were so bad. His cousin, a (occupation) at (place) as well as a (occupation) would molest us and when we told them, they said we were liars, and again the bad stigmatization was embedded in our young teenage minds. This is just one abuse story, and the beginning of a long series of abuse I would endure over my lifetime. Almost every relationship, whether it romantic, platonic, or family, my trauma has touched, infected and I began to believe it must be true, I am just bad. On (date)I would be strangled twice, battered and almost die at the hands of a lover,. After months of denial and physically healing from the assault I finally had the courage to come forward and press charges. That is the day my healing journey began, after so many years of abuse I finally confronted my abuser. Now, I try to live minute to minute and some minutes are better than others, but I have grit. Resilience is my superpower! I am a survivor not a victim. I already feel better just typing this. I was looking for a safe place to release, thank you 💕

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Keep fighting and keep Goign don’t let theme silence you ok .

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇬

    There is still hope…. Dont give up

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇨🇦

    In the Shadows: A Story of Survival and Healing

    For years, I lived through something no one should ever have to go through. It started when I was young, and the person who hurt me was someone I was supposed to trust, my stepfather. He was supposed to protect me, but instead, he took advantage of me in the worst way. Growing up, I thought my stepfather was someone I could trust. He was supposed to be part of my family, someone who would keep me safe. But instead, he became the person who hurt me the most. The abuse started when I was just a little girl, too young to understand what was happening. It began with small things, touches that felt wrong, words that made me uncomfortable. But over time, it became something much worse. It happened mostly at night, when everyone else was asleep. I’d wake up to the sound of the door creaking open, and my heart would start racing. I’d pretend to be asleep, hoping he would leave, but he never did. He would sit on the edge of my bed, and I could feel his weight pressing down on me. I would lie there, frozen, too scared to move or say anything. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to make it stop. I just wanted it to be over. Sometimes, he would wait until my mom was at work or when she traveled. Those were the worst times because I knew no one was coming to save me. I would hear his footsteps in the hallway, and my stomach would twist into knots. I would try to hide, to make myself small, but it didn’t matter. He always found me. He would come into my room, and I would feel so helpless, so alone. I wanted to scream, to run away, but I was too scared. I didn’t know what would happen if I tried to stop him. I hated myself for not being able to fight back. I hated myself for not being brave enough to tell someone. But I was just a kid. I didn’t know how to protect myself. I didn’t know how to make it stop. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The worst part was the silence. I couldn’t tell my mom. I was too scared of what would happen if I did. What if she didn’t believe me? What if she blamed me? What if it made things worse? I didn’t want to hurt her, and I didn’t want to tear our family apart. So I kept it all inside. I carried the weight of my secret every day, and it felt like I was drowning. The pain and shame were too much to carry. All I thought about was committing suicide just to end it all, so that I wouldn’t feel the weight of what was happening to me. I felt dirty, broken, and like I didn’t deserve to live. I thought if I was gone, the pain would stop, and maybe everyone else would be better off without me. But somehow, I kept going. I don’t know how, but I did. I found little things to hold onto—a friend, a book, a song, anything that made me feel even a tiny bit okay. It took years, but I finally told someone what happened. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was also the first step toward healing. I’m still healing now. Some days are better than others. I still have nightmares, and I still struggle with trusting people. But I’m learning to be kind to myself, to remind myself that what happened wasn’t my fault. I didn’t deserve it, and I’m not defined by it. If you’ve been through something like this, please know you’re not alone. It’s not your fault, and you deserve to be heard and supported. Healing is possible, even when it feels like it’s not. You are stronger than you think, and your story isn’t over yet. You don’t have to carry this weight alone anymore. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to let someone in. You are not broken, and you are not defined by what happened to you. You are so much more than that.

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    Grounding activity

    Find a comfortable place to sit. Gently close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths - in through your nose (count to 3), out through your mouth (count of 3). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name the following out loud:

    5 – things you can see (you can look within the room and out of the window)

    4 – things you can feel (what is in front of you that you can touch?)

    3 – things you can hear

    2 – things you can smell

    1 – thing you like about yourself.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    From where you are sitting, look around for things that have a texture or are nice or interesting to look at.

    Hold an object in your hand and bring your full focus to it. Look at where shadows fall on parts of it or maybe where there are shapes that form within the object. Feel how heavy or light it is in your hand and what the surface texture feels like under your fingers (This can also be done with a pet if you have one).

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud:

    1. Where am I?

    2. What day of the week is today?

    3. What is today’s date?

    4. What is the current month?

    5. What is the current year?

    6. How old am I?

    7. What season is it?

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Put your right hand palm down on your left shoulder. Put your left hand palm down on your right shoulder. Choose a sentence that will strengthen you. For example: “I am powerful.” Say the sentence out loud first and pat your right hand on your left shoulder, then your left hand on your right shoulder.

    Alternate the patting. Do ten pats altogether, five on each side, each time repeating your sentences aloud.

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Cross your arms in front of you and draw them towards your chest. With your right hand, hold your left upper arm. With your left hand, hold your right upper arm. Squeeze gently, and pull your arms inwards. Hold the squeeze for a little while, finding the right amount of squeeze for you in this moment. Hold the tension and release. Then squeeze for a little while again and release. Stay like that for a moment.

    Take a deep breath to end.