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Story
From a survivor
🇺🇸

Breaking Free: Escaping a Narcissist's Grip

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

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    If I could get out leave and make it so can you!

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  • You are surviving and that is enough.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #784

    We went to high school together, the prom, etc. My first love. 9 years after HS graduation we reconnected at a wedding and were married less than a year later. I liked our childhood connection, and how he liked to fix things. Everyone said it was “meant to be.” But there were many red flags. He abused me in every way. Mentally, by undermining my dreams and hopes (telling me I would never finish my degree). Financially, by spending money we didn't have, hiding major purchases from me, quitting jobs impulsively if he was ever “disrespected.” Physically, by spitting on me, shaking me, throwing me down on the floor. He lied to me, called me names, called me fat, threw away my cherished items then mocked me for picking through the garbage to find them. He also cheated on me and gave me an std then denied it saying I must have cheated on him when I hadn’t. He undermined my sense of reality. The tipping point was finding my 13 year old daughter's diary and reading about what she had heard and witnessed when I thought she was asleep. I couldn't raise her or her brothers around this anymore. The hardest thing was navigating custody. He had never once cared for our 3 children by himself–not even for an afternoon. He had connections in both police and social service agencies and was a former CPS worker so accusations of abuse never stuck to him. He dated and briefly married a lawyer so he had free and unlimited legal representation. He neglected our children, drank heavily (he is an alcoholic) and scared them many times with his rage and outbursts. Not being able to shield them from him was and remains the hardest part. My family is Catholic and takes marriage very seriously as do I. Right before I filed for divorce my mom was telling me how things weren't that bad. I told her that she could 1) either ask me to stop talking about my reality with her or 2) accept my reality–but that I would no longer accept her denial of my reality. She heard me, apologized, and has been fully supportive ever since. Please do not assume because someone is a social worker, calls himself an advocate, or a feminist, or even works as an advocate that he lives out these values in private. My ex was given an award by the police department for his work with homeless people the same week that he locked me outside of our house during a tornado (I had to ride it out in my car in the driveway). Obviously knowing that I'm not alone, that even though more than a decade has passed and that I'm very happily married to a kind and loving man, that this pain stays with me. On my children's birthdays I always struggle remembering how he abused me while I was in labor and recovering from childbirth. That is something very hard to share. Speak Your Truth allowed me to not be alone with those memories for the first time.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Love doesn't hurt. It' not love if it does.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #1428

    For years, I thought I had escaped the horrors of my childhood. My father’s overt abuse was a storm—loud, angry, impossible to ignore. So when I met him—the man who seemed so different—I thought I had finally found safety. He wasn’t my father. He didn’t yell or scream or raise a hand every other day. At first, he was kind, charming even. I thought everything was great. But over time, the cracks started to show. The cold, distant days where I felt like an inconvenience. The subtle digs and underhanded comments that weren’t enough to call mistreatment but were just enough to make me doubt myself. I’d lie awake at night, crying, unable to understand why I felt so anxious and stressed. I told myself it wasn’t that bad. After all, he wasn’t my father. Yet, deep down, I knew. I knew he could hurt me if I ever pushed too far, and that fear controlled me. As the years passed, the emotional manipulation evolved into something far darker. What started as control turned into sexual abuse. At first, I didn’t see it for what it was—maybe I didn’t want to see it. I clung to the idea that things would get better, that I could fix it, that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. But the progression was undeniable. I couldn’t look away anymore. By the time it ended, I found myself at a police station, hoping for justice, for someone to finally stand up for me. But nothing was done. Nothing. I left that station with no real resolution, but I did leave. That was the day I decided to start over. Healing wasn’t immediate. It’s still day by day. But now I get to choose what my days look like. I am no longer silent. I am no longer hiding. The mask I wore for years is gone, and I speak openly about what I endured, not because it’s easy, but because someone needs to hear it. Someone out there needs to know that they’re not alone, that their perfect-looking marriage may not be so perfect, and that they deserve better. I poured my story into a book, Book Title. It’s not just a story about abuse; it’s a call to recognize the subtle signs, to question the system that so often fails victims, and to challenge the way society dismisses our pain. I know how hard it is to rise, but I also know it’s possible. If you’re in that darkness, know this: you can rise too. Healing isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. And every day, you have the power to choose a better life. Because still, I rise. And so can you.

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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
    🇬🇧

    13 and The Colour Green

    Dedication: To all of the women and children that are fighting domestic abuse. I witnessed domestic violence between my mother and her boyfriend every day from the age of 6 up until the age of 11. I witnessed brutal attacks, one time my mother actually stopped breathing. He was a very jealous man. He wanted me out the way as much as possible. He even resorted to breaking my dogs leg in a fit of rage. My mother became a victim of ‘cuckooing’ by a local gang and was introduced to drugs. Her boyfriend stole from them and my mother was kidnapped. We both had to go into protective living. I stayed with my nan for 2 months not knowing where my mother was or even if she was alive. The gang found my mothers boyfriend and beat him to an inch of his life. My mother was later given an ultimatum; Him or me. She chose me. After us he moved on to another family. Unfortunately those children weren’t so lucky. They all got split up by the care system. It has not been until these past couple of months that I have learned to accept what happened. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Confusion, anger and tears. I had to say goodbye to the innocent little girl that was once me. At a crucial time when my child brain was meant to be developing and understanding the world, I had to skip that part completely. I was quickly brought into an adults world. After it all ended I had to build a whole new foundation and create a whole new person. It was almost like Norma Jean transforming into Marilyn Monroe or Beyonce becoming her alter ego Sasha Fierce. Before this, I had no identity. At the age of 6 I was just starting to find my place in the world which was then quickly taken from me. It wouldn’t be until I was 17 that I would have to come face to face with my mothers abuser again. She came home one night in a complete drunken state with him in tow. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him that I was 17 not 7 anymore and I was not afraid of him and he couldn’t hurt us anymore. The police ended up escorting him away. My mother was always encouraging of me and always told me she believed in me and to believe in myself. That I am so grateful for. I am so grateful for life. Every day I would wake up and wonder if that day would be the day I died. I think the way I got through it was fight or flight. My body chose fight. I had a best friend at the time who I am still best friends with to this day. Her mother was also tackling her own demons at home, so our friendship grew closer. My mother ended up having a hard time coming to terms with dealing with what happened. She is unfortunately a shell of person he once was. The song by Jessie J – I Miss Her sums it up perfectly. She is still breathing but she is not really living.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I will get there, I’m just not there yet

    There are pieces of different stories that fit my situation. I’m a successful executive and I am so embarrassed that I ignored all the red flags and got myself into this mess. I feel so unworthy, a combination of childhood emotional neglect, sexual assault as a teenager, and a 25 year marriage full of emotional neglect and infidelity. I even feel unworthy of putting myself in the same category as the survivors on this page, like my story isn’t as valid. He is a sexual assault survivor himself; he was molested by an older female cousin when he was little. That was part of the attraction at first. I thought we understood each other’s pain and would help each other heal what still remained. At first the attention felt like caring, like someone finally gave a damn. The requests to text where I was at all times, wanting to track my location and share his, wanting to talk or FaceTime all night on the phone, even sleeping with the call still going, next to me, when we weren’t together. Now I know it was about control and a deep lack of trust. I have learned over time to never look around at a restaurant or I will be accused of staring at another man. I have unfriended most of my male friends on social media and I am afraid to post anything in case one of the remaining ones comments. He demands that I show him any communication from any man on social media. He wants to know my work meeting schedule and gets upset if I don’t text him back right away. One time, he was out of town and my phone wasn’t plugged in correctly so the battery died during the overnight FaceTime call. I panicked when I woke up and realized what had happened, and he was furious with me. He wanted to know if I had cheated between 4 am and 8 am when the phone was dead. And I haven’t asked him to leave yet. I don’t know why. We have almost broken up several times, and every time I believe him that it will be different. It won’t be different. I am exhausted and I don’t recognize myself anymore. I am too ashamed to tell my friends or family the extent of it, although they know things are off.

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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
    🇺🇸

    When Authority is Evil

    Date, around Time I went on a date with him (a correctional officer), thinking it was an opportunity to become acquainted with him as a friend, but it turned out to be a horrific night which I would only remember parts of. He picked me up in his white pickup truck; it smelled of cologne and winterfresh gum. Two smells I will never forget. He took me to a dirty dive bar without asking where to go. I already didn’t feel safe, and I regret that I never said anything to this day. I got my first drink, rum and coke. Keep in mind that my glass was smaller than a coffee mug. We started talking, and he told me he used to be in the army. He seemed to be trying hard to persuade and impress me, but I was not falling for it. The taste of my drink was no different than I had before. I was nearly done with my first drink when he asked if I wanted another, and I agreed. He returned with another and asked if I wanted to play darts, and I again agreed. I took one drink of my second rum and coke he brought to me and started to feel dizzy, tired, and weak. I didn’t say anything yet. I continued with darts. By then, he gave me a third drink, I don’t remember if I even had a drink of it. I do recall saying, ‘I wanted to go home,’ and we left out the side door to his white pickup truck. I don’t remember getting inside the front seat, let alone the backseat. My eyes flickered open and closed, waking me to see him face-to-face. Raping me, I am frozen in shock. Disgusted by what he was saying to me. When he was done, he threw a towel on me and told me to ‘clean up.’ He tossed my shoe onto my nude body and said, ‘Now I will take you home.’ Twenty degrees outside, I was nude in a familiar parking lot. I got dressed. He took me home; no words were exchanged. Once I got in my house, I went straight into the shower and cried. I was a virgin He took my innocence from me that I can never get back. Date 2, around Time 2 Sitting in my office, He came in unannounced and sat down in a chair by the door. I looked up, feeling uneasy. I asked him, ‘what was he doing?’ He replied as he got up from his chair, ‘I know you want this cock.’ He blocked me between my seat, the wall, and my desk, I had nowhere to go. He unzipped his pants and grabbed a handful of my hair, and forcefully give him oral sex. This time I remember the whole brutal rape. Pushing, gagging, and choking only made him put more force and hurt upon me. His strength was unbearable. When it was over, he threw a piece of winterfresh gum at me and left. Crying, feeling dirty, guilty, and shameful, I put myself together and completed my day. Violated, not only once but twice, by the same guy. Once outside of work and the other inside work. After the first attack, I was broken inside, but the second attack really damaged me. If I told anyone, no one would believe me because he was a very well-liked person at work, and I was just a caseworker. My sisters were the first to know about the first assault in Date 3. I held back on the second as I felt they wouldn’t forgive me for allowing it to happen again. Date 4 I told my sisters about the second assault. I went to internal affairs, who sent me to detectives. They supposedly did an investigation, but boys will boys, and where I worked, they all stick together. The DA dropped the case. Date Range I now moved out of that county because of the triggers and the hope that my PTSD will get better with time. I feel stronger I told my story and know I am a survivor. I hope my story will become someone else’s survival guide. This happens when you are a strong, outspoken woman at the Location County Jail in Location, Pennsylvania.

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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.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    New Story

    As I walk this journey that I never thought I would, I am reminded of what I am thankful for. My kids, parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nephews, nieces, and true friends. The way these people have held me up when I have fallen has been incredible. I used to be worried about what people thought of me, mostly the lies that have been said. Everyone told me, people who truly know you, know that none of it is true. They are right. Why would I want anyone in my life that could believe it anyway? I guess it hurts to think people who said they were family and friends believe it. But I have to remind myself, they also believe he is a good person, so their judgment is way off. I am a domestic violence survivor. I will say it louder for the people in the back... I AM A DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SURVIVOR. For 17 years I was beaten off and on. No, he didn't beat me every day, and yes, he would go months without raising a hand. I probably had a least 3 concussions, too many black eyes to count, I couldn't even begin to count how many times I have been punched in the head and face, and my jaw has been broken (not medical confirmed but when you can't bite down for weeks, your jaw doesn't line up and your teeth were separating and now crooked, it is broken), and dislocated once, a knee injury that lasted months, burned, spat on, head split open twice where I lost some much blood I am almost passed out, broken/bruised ribs, too many bruises on arms and legs to count. When he was in an episode, the fear I felt was like no other. I have to say going to sleep at night was the worst, not knowing if I would wake up in the morning by being beaten to wake. It is a strange feeling that you are happy when the bruise can be covered by clothes or think why can't he punch me somewhere other than my jaw so I can eat? But, I have to say the mental and verbal abuse was just as bad. I have been accused of everything under the sun. I have been called every name in the book. I have been accused of stalking him, tapping into his phone, bugging our wifi, and putting cameras in our home to communicate with "my boyfriend". When I picked clothes to wear, he was always in the back of my brain of what he thought. I didn't wear a skirt or dress to work for 17 years because one night he told me it was easy to access as he pushed me into the tub and beat me. The color and style of my underwear .. l did wear anything lacy during the week. I got nervous any time my phone rang or a text. I blew off my former supervisor every administrator day for lunch because I didn't want to have to tell him I went out to lunch with a man. I stopped eating lunch with my friends in the break room because of his accusation that I was sleeping with my co-worker. I have been accused of having an affair at every job I have had. Why, because I never went anywhere during the evenings or weekends. I have taken 2 lie detector tests at the beginning of my marriage. I passed both but he would tell you now I didn't. He is good at rewriting history. The ironic part, he is the one who cheated. He was in love with an affair and continued for months. And confessed to sleeping with two other women he worked with. They say their accusations are the closest thing you will get to a confession. I guess that I why I was accused of sleeping with coworkers. And I forgave him. But I now know the main reason I did was that I was afraid. Afraid to do all on my own. Afraid to go back to my parents who had been right about him all along. Afraid of the unknown and what my life would look like. And I now know I had nothing to be afraid of. My family embraced me and helped heal me. Those fears don't go away the minute you are safe. I realized this when I walked into the parking lot of our son's soccer game when he was arguing with me. We both walked between two SUVs where no one could see us with him behind me and my first thought "he is going to hit me". But this time my second thought was "If he does, I am calling the police". He has stalked me to the point my brother-in-law made me get pepper spray. After a year and a half of therapy, I realized he started grooming as soon as our relationship started. Telling me he loved me 3 weeks into our relationship should have been the first red flag but at 20, I just didn't see it. I realized I never was in love with him, I was in love with the lie of who he wanted me to believe he was. He is really good at projecting himself as a good person, he has fooled many many people. But more people saw him for who he really was and now aren't afraid to tell me. See what people who are not in an abusive relationship don't understand is there is a trauma bond that forms. Trauma bonding makes you psychologically addicted to your abuser. This explains why trying to stop contact feels like you are coming off a drug . ... Trauma bonding involves cycles of abuse - following an abusive incident or series of incidents, perpetrators will often offer a kind gesture to try to recover the situation. When he came out of an abusive episode, he was the sweetest man. It was all a lie. It is hard to know that your life was one big lie for 21 years. I feel like it isn't a new chapter I am entering into; it is a completely new book. I am not the person I was for 21 years. I am fearless, strong, independent, and a better person. I am happier now than I have ever been in my life. I can breathe for the first time. I have my power back. I know I will make mistakes but it is a freeing feeling to know that it is ok. No one is going to scream at me or put me down. To know I can grow and thrive without someone trying to stop me. This new book is going to be an amazing ride and I can't wait to read it.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    you are what you love, not what has happened to you.

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  • If you are reading this, you have survived 100% of your worst days. You’re doing great.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Out from the Ashes

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

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇩🇪

    Name

    I grew up with an immense fear of men, of which I never understood why... Until I reached my midlife and developed a serious physical ailment, only then was my horrific secret unveiled! During my childhood, I was often left in the care of my caretaker as my family member was busy nurturing my younger, sickly brother hence I became independent from a young age. Nature and my pets were my solstice. Growing up I was shy and introverted, and always felt like I never belonged. Deliberately I would avoid contact and conversation with all men, including family members. Constantly I bit my nails, until they bled sometimes. As a teenager, my caretaker would belt me until I was bruised for my insolence apparently?! My family obviously heard, yet chose to be silent due to their fear of him. An inner rage developed towards him and eventually I completely despised him. One day in my mid-forties I awoke with a serious frozen neck. As a Holistic Practitioner, I knew that this was an underlying emotion which was manifesting as a physical ailment so I decided to seek psychological aid. After a few months of regular sessions, the deepest dark secret was revealed... I had been sexually abused by my caretaker since childhood. YES that was a heavy pill to swallow, and of course more therapy was required to heal my painful, inner child wounds. The horrific shock caused various emotional reactions from depression, anger, shame, guilt and even suicidal thoughts. However, a power deep within me gave me the strength to slowly and gently work through it on a daily basis, thanks to the love and support of many wonderful people including close friends. Yoga, meditation, journaling, breathwork, energy therapy and different holistic modalities assisted my transformational, healing journey. I also believe that my continued faith guided me as well, to find inner peace and forgiveness towards my abuser. A year later I approached my family member about my abuse, and as shocked as she was she could still not support me emotionally. My dysfunctional childhood could never be erased, however I chose to make the rest of my life the Best of my life from that day onwards! After some time. the day eventually came when I had the courage to face my abuser. I looked him in the face with absolute compassion, that's when I realised that I was completely healed. My path hereon would be creating the life I dreamed of. His choice of denial was his issue! On Date, I appeared for the first time publicly on stage as a Speaker to share my story of Name of Presentation' at the Location of event. It was utterly life-changing. Standing at the podium, my legs were trembling and hands were shaking, yet I felt this Divine presence supporting me and giving me the courage. I was not alone. I chose to speak my truth and be the voice for the voiceless! The audience were fortunately patient and understanding as I opened my heart. Since then I was inspired to create my personal brand 'Brand Name', which offers support, healing and guidance to those who've been sexually abused and endured domestic violence. I'm also a Organization NameAmbassador for the prevention of Children's sexual abuse, which is unfortunately ripe in today's society. My passion is to continue to share my triumphant, transformational story on webinars and podcasts worldwide. The time is now for victims to come out of the closet and be the change they wish to see in the world, so they too can live the life of freedom and peace that they truly deserve. My mission is to encourage other victims to no longer be silent. Speaking my truth was my path to emancipation. Recently I co-authored a book, Book Title - The voices of survivors' which will be published on Date. Writing it was another beautiful, healing experience for me. I gained even deeper, inner peace. Even though my trauma was horrifying and I was scarred both physically and emotionally, I was determined to transform my pain to purpose and my wounds to wisdom so I'm no longer the victim but rather the Victor in my life! I am living proof it can be done and proud to say I've never needed to be on medication; Holistic therapies greatly aided my metamorphosis. Nowadays I am more confident, brave and compassionate, appreciating every day of my new-found existence! " OUR TRUTH DESERVES TO BE REVEALED; OUR PRESENCE WARRANTS TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED; OUR VOICES NEED TO BE HEARD AND EXPRESSED." - Name

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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
    🇺🇸

    Call The Police

    My story has a good ending but it took a rocky road to get there. The reason that I wanted to share it is to emphasize the importance to victims of reporting every time to the police, even if one of those times might not go the way you wanted it to go or even if you got embarrassed after you did it. And I don't mean just every time you are hit but every time you think there is a threat of being hit. I am 100% convinced this is what ultimately stopped the abuse that I endured. I got married after I became pregnant when I was 24. The first time I was abused was New Year's Day when I was 25. My husband had gone to a friend's house to watch a football game with other friends and left me home with our baby and the number where he was. When I called the number, a woman answered the phone and got him. I was mad because he said he was going to be with a bunch of guy friends. He told me it was the wife of his friend but when he came home, he took out his embarrassment and anger that I called him there on me and pulled me down by my hair while I was holding our baby. The second instance of abuse happened after we took our baby to The Lion King in the theater and witnessed Scar slap Sarabi. My husband slapped me in the same way on our way home when we fought about him being able to enjoy the movie while I had to be the one to attend to the baby. It was at this point that I sought out a counselor who enlightened me that I was experiencing abuse and referred us to Family Advocacy, a military program for families experiencing abuse. The final instance of abuse in the apartment we were living in happened right before we moved to a new state by the military and was bad enough to leave bruises on my face. A few days before this incident, we had heard a woman screaming in the apartment below ours and called the police to help her. So when I was being abused, I screamed also when my husband was choking me and I think that that neighbor returned the favor by calling the police for me. The police arrived and it was the one and only time that I felt that the police questioned me more than him because I had been drinking. We were living in city, state and I will always remember the police there for being uncaring about what he did to me but they also stopped the abuse by showing up at our apartment. My husband moved before I did and I faced a really daunting decision at that time whether to move with him. I think if my mom had supported me staying back with her, I would have done that but she wanted me to move with him so I did. After we moved, the military forced my husband to take anger management classes and offered supportive counseling for me. My husband had a harder time keeping me isolated because I am an outgoing person and loved meeting and becoming friends with the other wives. I planned a path of escape from him by going back to school to get my teaching certificate so I could work and have the same schedule as my baby as she grew older. I also told him he needed to move out of our apartment because we weren't getting along and he moved in with one of the guys he worked with in the barracks. We had a 6 month lease on the apartment and when that was up, the military was ready to move us into military housing but I would not move there by myself with our little girl so he moved back and then we moved to military housing. The next instance of abuse happened when my husband came home drunk after a night with a friend. He fell right to sleep and I found a girl's name and number in his back pocket. I woke him up and demanded to know what happened and he punched me and gave me a bloody nose. I called the police and they made him leave and the military forbade him from coming to see me for 2 weeks. I really think this is what made him think twice about abusing me again, despite verbal threats. I did get my teaching certificate but as soon as I got my first job teaching, my husband became romantic and charming and enticed me to stay with him. I ended up getting pregnant with our second child and after a couple years, we moved back to our hometown city. We have lived in our hometown city for 24 years now and there have been a few instances when I felt threatened by my husband and immediately called the police who came over, gave me resources to call, and put my husband in his place. He is a rule follower type so it embarrassed him enough that he has altogether stopped. I sometimes think I must be really stupid to have stayed with him all these years but since the abuse has stopped and we had 2 more kids, there is really no reason to leave. Especially since I have circles of very close friends who I can go out with and travel with. He has never been financially abusive and has always been a good provider so that helps. And he has never tried to prevent me from going out with my friends or traveling with them. I have always believed that boys in our country, maybe even our world, are very much influenced by what they are exposed to on screens. My husband was always into very violent movies and TV shows and there are so many instances of abuse against women on the screen, even in video games, even in Lion King. So although it is not an excuse, I am cognizant that he has been very influenced by them.

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    You are never alone.

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    #1093

    I just fled from domestic violence 3 months ago & still struggling to move forward. I forgave him so much & often blamed myself for all the physical abuse I endured. I always had an excuse for him, even felt like I deserved it at times. It went from punching the wall above my head to full on punching me in the face in a matter of weeks. He moved me 24 hours away from my family where things just became worse. He ended up pistol whipping me and putting his gun to my head telling me he’d kill me multiple different times, put knives to my chest & overall just beat the shit out of me. I was so scared I thought I’d be safer staying with him. Thankfully someone witnessed him dragging me in the house by my hair & called the police and he was arrested. I originally was panicking & figuring out how to get him out. But the day after he arrested everything in me told me to pack up as much as I could of my son & I’s things and GO. Crisis funded my gas/food back across the country. I left terrified, hurt & not knowing where my son and I would live. I went to a domestic violence shelter & eventually got my own place again. He was sentenced to only 1 year in jail (3 felonies were dropped he was facing 30 years) & I’ve been in a constant battle between feeling bad and missing him & knowing I deserve more and so does my son. Breaking the cycle has been so mentally draining but I can’t wait to see what life holds for me in the future as hard and unknown as it might be.

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    #916

    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.

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  • “It can be really difficult to ask for help when you are struggling. Healing is a huge weight to bear, but you do not need to bear it on your own.”

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    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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    Breaking Free: Escaping a Narcissist's Grip

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

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    If I could get out leave and make it so can you!

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    Love doesn't hurt. It' not love if it does.

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    #1428

    For years, I thought I had escaped the horrors of my childhood. My father’s overt abuse was a storm—loud, angry, impossible to ignore. So when I met him—the man who seemed so different—I thought I had finally found safety. He wasn’t my father. He didn’t yell or scream or raise a hand every other day. At first, he was kind, charming even. I thought everything was great. But over time, the cracks started to show. The cold, distant days where I felt like an inconvenience. The subtle digs and underhanded comments that weren’t enough to call mistreatment but were just enough to make me doubt myself. I’d lie awake at night, crying, unable to understand why I felt so anxious and stressed. I told myself it wasn’t that bad. After all, he wasn’t my father. Yet, deep down, I knew. I knew he could hurt me if I ever pushed too far, and that fear controlled me. As the years passed, the emotional manipulation evolved into something far darker. What started as control turned into sexual abuse. At first, I didn’t see it for what it was—maybe I didn’t want to see it. I clung to the idea that things would get better, that I could fix it, that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. But the progression was undeniable. I couldn’t look away anymore. By the time it ended, I found myself at a police station, hoping for justice, for someone to finally stand up for me. But nothing was done. Nothing. I left that station with no real resolution, but I did leave. That was the day I decided to start over. Healing wasn’t immediate. It’s still day by day. But now I get to choose what my days look like. I am no longer silent. I am no longer hiding. The mask I wore for years is gone, and I speak openly about what I endured, not because it’s easy, but because someone needs to hear it. Someone out there needs to know that they’re not alone, that their perfect-looking marriage may not be so perfect, and that they deserve better. I poured my story into a book, Book Title. It’s not just a story about abuse; it’s a call to recognize the subtle signs, to question the system that so often fails victims, and to challenge the way society dismisses our pain. I know how hard it is to rise, but I also know it’s possible. If you’re in that darkness, know this: you can rise too. Healing isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. And every day, you have the power to choose a better life. Because still, I rise. And so can you.

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    13 and The Colour Green

    Dedication: To all of the women and children that are fighting domestic abuse. I witnessed domestic violence between my mother and her boyfriend every day from the age of 6 up until the age of 11. I witnessed brutal attacks, one time my mother actually stopped breathing. He was a very jealous man. He wanted me out the way as much as possible. He even resorted to breaking my dogs leg in a fit of rage. My mother became a victim of ‘cuckooing’ by a local gang and was introduced to drugs. Her boyfriend stole from them and my mother was kidnapped. We both had to go into protective living. I stayed with my nan for 2 months not knowing where my mother was or even if she was alive. The gang found my mothers boyfriend and beat him to an inch of his life. My mother was later given an ultimatum; Him or me. She chose me. After us he moved on to another family. Unfortunately those children weren’t so lucky. They all got split up by the care system. It has not been until these past couple of months that I have learned to accept what happened. It has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Confusion, anger and tears. I had to say goodbye to the innocent little girl that was once me. At a crucial time when my child brain was meant to be developing and understanding the world, I had to skip that part completely. I was quickly brought into an adults world. After it all ended I had to build a whole new foundation and create a whole new person. It was almost like Norma Jean transforming into Marilyn Monroe or Beyonce becoming her alter ego Sasha Fierce. Before this, I had no identity. At the age of 6 I was just starting to find my place in the world which was then quickly taken from me. It wouldn’t be until I was 17 that I would have to come face to face with my mothers abuser again. She came home one night in a complete drunken state with him in tow. I looked him dead in the eyes and told him that I was 17 not 7 anymore and I was not afraid of him and he couldn’t hurt us anymore. The police ended up escorting him away. My mother was always encouraging of me and always told me she believed in me and to believe in myself. That I am so grateful for. I am so grateful for life. Every day I would wake up and wonder if that day would be the day I died. I think the way I got through it was fight or flight. My body chose fight. I had a best friend at the time who I am still best friends with to this day. Her mother was also tackling her own demons at home, so our friendship grew closer. My mother ended up having a hard time coming to terms with dealing with what happened. She is unfortunately a shell of person he once was. The song by Jessie J – I Miss Her sums it up perfectly. She is still breathing but she is not really living.

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    When Authority is Evil

    Date, around Time I went on a date with him (a correctional officer), thinking it was an opportunity to become acquainted with him as a friend, but it turned out to be a horrific night which I would only remember parts of. He picked me up in his white pickup truck; it smelled of cologne and winterfresh gum. Two smells I will never forget. He took me to a dirty dive bar without asking where to go. I already didn’t feel safe, and I regret that I never said anything to this day. I got my first drink, rum and coke. Keep in mind that my glass was smaller than a coffee mug. We started talking, and he told me he used to be in the army. He seemed to be trying hard to persuade and impress me, but I was not falling for it. The taste of my drink was no different than I had before. I was nearly done with my first drink when he asked if I wanted another, and I agreed. He returned with another and asked if I wanted to play darts, and I again agreed. I took one drink of my second rum and coke he brought to me and started to feel dizzy, tired, and weak. I didn’t say anything yet. I continued with darts. By then, he gave me a third drink, I don’t remember if I even had a drink of it. I do recall saying, ‘I wanted to go home,’ and we left out the side door to his white pickup truck. I don’t remember getting inside the front seat, let alone the backseat. My eyes flickered open and closed, waking me to see him face-to-face. Raping me, I am frozen in shock. Disgusted by what he was saying to me. When he was done, he threw a towel on me and told me to ‘clean up.’ He tossed my shoe onto my nude body and said, ‘Now I will take you home.’ Twenty degrees outside, I was nude in a familiar parking lot. I got dressed. He took me home; no words were exchanged. Once I got in my house, I went straight into the shower and cried. I was a virgin He took my innocence from me that I can never get back. Date 2, around Time 2 Sitting in my office, He came in unannounced and sat down in a chair by the door. I looked up, feeling uneasy. I asked him, ‘what was he doing?’ He replied as he got up from his chair, ‘I know you want this cock.’ He blocked me between my seat, the wall, and my desk, I had nowhere to go. He unzipped his pants and grabbed a handful of my hair, and forcefully give him oral sex. This time I remember the whole brutal rape. Pushing, gagging, and choking only made him put more force and hurt upon me. His strength was unbearable. When it was over, he threw a piece of winterfresh gum at me and left. Crying, feeling dirty, guilty, and shameful, I put myself together and completed my day. Violated, not only once but twice, by the same guy. Once outside of work and the other inside work. After the first attack, I was broken inside, but the second attack really damaged me. If I told anyone, no one would believe me because he was a very well-liked person at work, and I was just a caseworker. My sisters were the first to know about the first assault in Date 3. I held back on the second as I felt they wouldn’t forgive me for allowing it to happen again. Date 4 I told my sisters about the second assault. I went to internal affairs, who sent me to detectives. They supposedly did an investigation, but boys will boys, and where I worked, they all stick together. The DA dropped the case. Date Range I now moved out of that county because of the triggers and the hope that my PTSD will get better with time. I feel stronger I told my story and know I am a survivor. I hope my story will become someone else’s survival guide. This happens when you are a strong, outspoken woman at the Location County Jail in Location, Pennsylvania.

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    you are what you love, not what has happened to you.

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    Name

    I grew up with an immense fear of men, of which I never understood why... Until I reached my midlife and developed a serious physical ailment, only then was my horrific secret unveiled! During my childhood, I was often left in the care of my caretaker as my family member was busy nurturing my younger, sickly brother hence I became independent from a young age. Nature and my pets were my solstice. Growing up I was shy and introverted, and always felt like I never belonged. Deliberately I would avoid contact and conversation with all men, including family members. Constantly I bit my nails, until they bled sometimes. As a teenager, my caretaker would belt me until I was bruised for my insolence apparently?! My family obviously heard, yet chose to be silent due to their fear of him. An inner rage developed towards him and eventually I completely despised him. One day in my mid-forties I awoke with a serious frozen neck. As a Holistic Practitioner, I knew that this was an underlying emotion which was manifesting as a physical ailment so I decided to seek psychological aid. After a few months of regular sessions, the deepest dark secret was revealed... I had been sexually abused by my caretaker since childhood. YES that was a heavy pill to swallow, and of course more therapy was required to heal my painful, inner child wounds. The horrific shock caused various emotional reactions from depression, anger, shame, guilt and even suicidal thoughts. However, a power deep within me gave me the strength to slowly and gently work through it on a daily basis, thanks to the love and support of many wonderful people including close friends. Yoga, meditation, journaling, breathwork, energy therapy and different holistic modalities assisted my transformational, healing journey. I also believe that my continued faith guided me as well, to find inner peace and forgiveness towards my abuser. A year later I approached my family member about my abuse, and as shocked as she was she could still not support me emotionally. My dysfunctional childhood could never be erased, however I chose to make the rest of my life the Best of my life from that day onwards! After some time. the day eventually came when I had the courage to face my abuser. I looked him in the face with absolute compassion, that's when I realised that I was completely healed. My path hereon would be creating the life I dreamed of. His choice of denial was his issue! On Date, I appeared for the first time publicly on stage as a Speaker to share my story of Name of Presentation' at the Location of event. It was utterly life-changing. Standing at the podium, my legs were trembling and hands were shaking, yet I felt this Divine presence supporting me and giving me the courage. I was not alone. I chose to speak my truth and be the voice for the voiceless! The audience were fortunately patient and understanding as I opened my heart. Since then I was inspired to create my personal brand 'Brand Name', which offers support, healing and guidance to those who've been sexually abused and endured domestic violence. I'm also a Organization NameAmbassador for the prevention of Children's sexual abuse, which is unfortunately ripe in today's society. My passion is to continue to share my triumphant, transformational story on webinars and podcasts worldwide. The time is now for victims to come out of the closet and be the change they wish to see in the world, so they too can live the life of freedom and peace that they truly deserve. My mission is to encourage other victims to no longer be silent. Speaking my truth was my path to emancipation. Recently I co-authored a book, Book Title - The voices of survivors' which will be published on Date. Writing it was another beautiful, healing experience for me. I gained even deeper, inner peace. Even though my trauma was horrifying and I was scarred both physically and emotionally, I was determined to transform my pain to purpose and my wounds to wisdom so I'm no longer the victim but rather the Victor in my life! I am living proof it can be done and proud to say I've never needed to be on medication; Holistic therapies greatly aided my metamorphosis. Nowadays I am more confident, brave and compassionate, appreciating every day of my new-found existence! " OUR TRUTH DESERVES TO BE REVEALED; OUR PRESENCE WARRANTS TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED; OUR VOICES NEED TO BE HEARD AND EXPRESSED." - Name

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    You are never alone.

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    #916

    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.

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  • You are surviving and that is enough.

    “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.”

    “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.”

    If you are reading this, you have survived 100% of your worst days. You’re doing great.

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    Out from the Ashes

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

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

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

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    #1093

    I just fled from domestic violence 3 months ago & still struggling to move forward. I forgave him so much & often blamed myself for all the physical abuse I endured. I always had an excuse for him, even felt like I deserved it at times. It went from punching the wall above my head to full on punching me in the face in a matter of weeks. He moved me 24 hours away from my family where things just became worse. He ended up pistol whipping me and putting his gun to my head telling me he’d kill me multiple different times, put knives to my chest & overall just beat the shit out of me. I was so scared I thought I’d be safer staying with him. Thankfully someone witnessed him dragging me in the house by my hair & called the police and he was arrested. I originally was panicking & figuring out how to get him out. But the day after he arrested everything in me told me to pack up as much as I could of my son & I’s things and GO. Crisis funded my gas/food back across the country. I left terrified, hurt & not knowing where my son and I would live. I went to a domestic violence shelter & eventually got my own place again. He was sentenced to only 1 year in jail (3 felonies were dropped he was facing 30 years) & I’ve been in a constant battle between feeling bad and missing him & knowing I deserve more and so does my son. Breaking the cycle has been so mentally draining but I can’t wait to see what life holds for me in the future as hard and unknown as it might be.

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  • “It can be really difficult to ask for help when you are struggling. Healing is a huge weight to bear, but you do not need to bear it on your own.”

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    #784

    We went to high school together, the prom, etc. My first love. 9 years after HS graduation we reconnected at a wedding and were married less than a year later. I liked our childhood connection, and how he liked to fix things. Everyone said it was “meant to be.” But there were many red flags. He abused me in every way. Mentally, by undermining my dreams and hopes (telling me I would never finish my degree). Financially, by spending money we didn't have, hiding major purchases from me, quitting jobs impulsively if he was ever “disrespected.” Physically, by spitting on me, shaking me, throwing me down on the floor. He lied to me, called me names, called me fat, threw away my cherished items then mocked me for picking through the garbage to find them. He also cheated on me and gave me an std then denied it saying I must have cheated on him when I hadn’t. He undermined my sense of reality. The tipping point was finding my 13 year old daughter's diary and reading about what she had heard and witnessed when I thought she was asleep. I couldn't raise her or her brothers around this anymore. The hardest thing was navigating custody. He had never once cared for our 3 children by himself–not even for an afternoon. He had connections in both police and social service agencies and was a former CPS worker so accusations of abuse never stuck to him. He dated and briefly married a lawyer so he had free and unlimited legal representation. He neglected our children, drank heavily (he is an alcoholic) and scared them many times with his rage and outbursts. Not being able to shield them from him was and remains the hardest part. My family is Catholic and takes marriage very seriously as do I. Right before I filed for divorce my mom was telling me how things weren't that bad. I told her that she could 1) either ask me to stop talking about my reality with her or 2) accept my reality–but that I would no longer accept her denial of my reality. She heard me, apologized, and has been fully supportive ever since. Please do not assume because someone is a social worker, calls himself an advocate, or a feminist, or even works as an advocate that he lives out these values in private. My ex was given an award by the police department for his work with homeless people the same week that he locked me outside of our house during a tornado (I had to ride it out in my car in the driveway). Obviously knowing that I'm not alone, that even though more than a decade has passed and that I'm very happily married to a kind and loving man, that this pain stays with me. On my children's birthdays I always struggle remembering how he abused me while I was in labor and recovering from childbirth. That is something very hard to share. Speak Your Truth allowed me to not be alone with those memories for the first time.

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    From a survivor
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    I will get there, I’m just not there yet

    There are pieces of different stories that fit my situation. I’m a successful executive and I am so embarrassed that I ignored all the red flags and got myself into this mess. I feel so unworthy, a combination of childhood emotional neglect, sexual assault as a teenager, and a 25 year marriage full of emotional neglect and infidelity. I even feel unworthy of putting myself in the same category as the survivors on this page, like my story isn’t as valid. He is a sexual assault survivor himself; he was molested by an older female cousin when he was little. That was part of the attraction at first. I thought we understood each other’s pain and would help each other heal what still remained. At first the attention felt like caring, like someone finally gave a damn. The requests to text where I was at all times, wanting to track my location and share his, wanting to talk or FaceTime all night on the phone, even sleeping with the call still going, next to me, when we weren’t together. Now I know it was about control and a deep lack of trust. I have learned over time to never look around at a restaurant or I will be accused of staring at another man. I have unfriended most of my male friends on social media and I am afraid to post anything in case one of the remaining ones comments. He demands that I show him any communication from any man on social media. He wants to know my work meeting schedule and gets upset if I don’t text him back right away. One time, he was out of town and my phone wasn’t plugged in correctly so the battery died during the overnight FaceTime call. I panicked when I woke up and realized what had happened, and he was furious with me. He wanted to know if I had cheated between 4 am and 8 am when the phone was dead. And I haven’t asked him to leave yet. I don’t know why. We have almost broken up several times, and every time I believe him that it will be different. It won’t be different. I am exhausted and I don’t recognize myself anymore. I am too ashamed to tell my friends or family the extent of it, although they know things are off.

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    From a survivor
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    New Story

    As I walk this journey that I never thought I would, I am reminded of what I am thankful for. My kids, parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nephews, nieces, and true friends. The way these people have held me up when I have fallen has been incredible. I used to be worried about what people thought of me, mostly the lies that have been said. Everyone told me, people who truly know you, know that none of it is true. They are right. Why would I want anyone in my life that could believe it anyway? I guess it hurts to think people who said they were family and friends believe it. But I have to remind myself, they also believe he is a good person, so their judgment is way off. I am a domestic violence survivor. I will say it louder for the people in the back... I AM A DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SURVIVOR. For 17 years I was beaten off and on. No, he didn't beat me every day, and yes, he would go months without raising a hand. I probably had a least 3 concussions, too many black eyes to count, I couldn't even begin to count how many times I have been punched in the head and face, and my jaw has been broken (not medical confirmed but when you can't bite down for weeks, your jaw doesn't line up and your teeth were separating and now crooked, it is broken), and dislocated once, a knee injury that lasted months, burned, spat on, head split open twice where I lost some much blood I am almost passed out, broken/bruised ribs, too many bruises on arms and legs to count. When he was in an episode, the fear I felt was like no other. I have to say going to sleep at night was the worst, not knowing if I would wake up in the morning by being beaten to wake. It is a strange feeling that you are happy when the bruise can be covered by clothes or think why can't he punch me somewhere other than my jaw so I can eat? But, I have to say the mental and verbal abuse was just as bad. I have been accused of everything under the sun. I have been called every name in the book. I have been accused of stalking him, tapping into his phone, bugging our wifi, and putting cameras in our home to communicate with "my boyfriend". When I picked clothes to wear, he was always in the back of my brain of what he thought. I didn't wear a skirt or dress to work for 17 years because one night he told me it was easy to access as he pushed me into the tub and beat me. The color and style of my underwear .. l did wear anything lacy during the week. I got nervous any time my phone rang or a text. I blew off my former supervisor every administrator day for lunch because I didn't want to have to tell him I went out to lunch with a man. I stopped eating lunch with my friends in the break room because of his accusation that I was sleeping with my co-worker. I have been accused of having an affair at every job I have had. Why, because I never went anywhere during the evenings or weekends. I have taken 2 lie detector tests at the beginning of my marriage. I passed both but he would tell you now I didn't. He is good at rewriting history. The ironic part, he is the one who cheated. He was in love with an affair and continued for months. And confessed to sleeping with two other women he worked with. They say their accusations are the closest thing you will get to a confession. I guess that I why I was accused of sleeping with coworkers. And I forgave him. But I now know the main reason I did was that I was afraid. Afraid to do all on my own. Afraid to go back to my parents who had been right about him all along. Afraid of the unknown and what my life would look like. And I now know I had nothing to be afraid of. My family embraced me and helped heal me. Those fears don't go away the minute you are safe. I realized this when I walked into the parking lot of our son's soccer game when he was arguing with me. We both walked between two SUVs where no one could see us with him behind me and my first thought "he is going to hit me". But this time my second thought was "If he does, I am calling the police". He has stalked me to the point my brother-in-law made me get pepper spray. After a year and a half of therapy, I realized he started grooming as soon as our relationship started. Telling me he loved me 3 weeks into our relationship should have been the first red flag but at 20, I just didn't see it. I realized I never was in love with him, I was in love with the lie of who he wanted me to believe he was. He is really good at projecting himself as a good person, he has fooled many many people. But more people saw him for who he really was and now aren't afraid to tell me. See what people who are not in an abusive relationship don't understand is there is a trauma bond that forms. Trauma bonding makes you psychologically addicted to your abuser. This explains why trying to stop contact feels like you are coming off a drug . ... Trauma bonding involves cycles of abuse - following an abusive incident or series of incidents, perpetrators will often offer a kind gesture to try to recover the situation. When he came out of an abusive episode, he was the sweetest man. It was all a lie. It is hard to know that your life was one big lie for 21 years. I feel like it isn't a new chapter I am entering into; it is a completely new book. I am not the person I was for 21 years. I am fearless, strong, independent, and a better person. I am happier now than I have ever been in my life. I can breathe for the first time. I have my power back. I know I will make mistakes but it is a freeing feeling to know that it is ok. No one is going to scream at me or put me down. To know I can grow and thrive without someone trying to stop me. This new book is going to be an amazing ride and I can't wait to read it.

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    From a survivor
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    Call The Police

    My story has a good ending but it took a rocky road to get there. The reason that I wanted to share it is to emphasize the importance to victims of reporting every time to the police, even if one of those times might not go the way you wanted it to go or even if you got embarrassed after you did it. And I don't mean just every time you are hit but every time you think there is a threat of being hit. I am 100% convinced this is what ultimately stopped the abuse that I endured. I got married after I became pregnant when I was 24. The first time I was abused was New Year's Day when I was 25. My husband had gone to a friend's house to watch a football game with other friends and left me home with our baby and the number where he was. When I called the number, a woman answered the phone and got him. I was mad because he said he was going to be with a bunch of guy friends. He told me it was the wife of his friend but when he came home, he took out his embarrassment and anger that I called him there on me and pulled me down by my hair while I was holding our baby. The second instance of abuse happened after we took our baby to The Lion King in the theater and witnessed Scar slap Sarabi. My husband slapped me in the same way on our way home when we fought about him being able to enjoy the movie while I had to be the one to attend to the baby. It was at this point that I sought out a counselor who enlightened me that I was experiencing abuse and referred us to Family Advocacy, a military program for families experiencing abuse. The final instance of abuse in the apartment we were living in happened right before we moved to a new state by the military and was bad enough to leave bruises on my face. A few days before this incident, we had heard a woman screaming in the apartment below ours and called the police to help her. So when I was being abused, I screamed also when my husband was choking me and I think that that neighbor returned the favor by calling the police for me. The police arrived and it was the one and only time that I felt that the police questioned me more than him because I had been drinking. We were living in city, state and I will always remember the police there for being uncaring about what he did to me but they also stopped the abuse by showing up at our apartment. My husband moved before I did and I faced a really daunting decision at that time whether to move with him. I think if my mom had supported me staying back with her, I would have done that but she wanted me to move with him so I did. After we moved, the military forced my husband to take anger management classes and offered supportive counseling for me. My husband had a harder time keeping me isolated because I am an outgoing person and loved meeting and becoming friends with the other wives. I planned a path of escape from him by going back to school to get my teaching certificate so I could work and have the same schedule as my baby as she grew older. I also told him he needed to move out of our apartment because we weren't getting along and he moved in with one of the guys he worked with in the barracks. We had a 6 month lease on the apartment and when that was up, the military was ready to move us into military housing but I would not move there by myself with our little girl so he moved back and then we moved to military housing. The next instance of abuse happened when my husband came home drunk after a night with a friend. He fell right to sleep and I found a girl's name and number in his back pocket. I woke him up and demanded to know what happened and he punched me and gave me a bloody nose. I called the police and they made him leave and the military forbade him from coming to see me for 2 weeks. I really think this is what made him think twice about abusing me again, despite verbal threats. I did get my teaching certificate but as soon as I got my first job teaching, my husband became romantic and charming and enticed me to stay with him. I ended up getting pregnant with our second child and after a couple years, we moved back to our hometown city. We have lived in our hometown city for 24 years now and there have been a few instances when I felt threatened by my husband and immediately called the police who came over, gave me resources to call, and put my husband in his place. He is a rule follower type so it embarrassed him enough that he has altogether stopped. I sometimes think I must be really stupid to have stayed with him all these years but since the abuse has stopped and we had 2 more kids, there is really no reason to leave. Especially since I have circles of very close friends who I can go out with and travel with. He has never been financially abusive and has always been a good provider so that helps. And he has never tried to prevent me from going out with my friends or traveling with them. I have always believed that boys in our country, maybe even our world, are very much influenced by what they are exposed to on screens. My husband was always into very violent movies and TV shows and there are so many instances of abuse against women on the screen, even in video games, even in Lion King. So although it is not an excuse, I am cognizant that he has been very influenced by them.

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
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    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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