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My name is Name I am a lifelonglocation 1and relocated to location 2 3 years ago. I never thought in my most horrific Nightmares that I would have a devastating story like this to tell. But now I do and this is my location 2 life. Welcome to location 2. The land of delusion. I have been trying to file a lawsuit for the following abuse and mental/psychological cruelty that has happened to me since relocating to this God forsaken state: -False Imprisonment -Medical Malpractice/Medical Negligence -Defamation of Character -Falsafying Records I have been trying to file these claims against Mental Institution Name in location 2. I have been working with Name 2 of Organization Name since last year regarding ordering a site inspection against this facility due to all the violations they committed that have gone unnoticed and undocumented from the inspection done by Agency Name Please see below for an outline of what has occurred: ========================== Date: Followed up on my rape kit done at the Rape Crisis Center Name a few weeks prior with the policewoman assigned to my case, Name 3. I went to the precinct to speak to her because I missed her call and they told me she was going to come to me later that day. Name 3 of the Name of Department came to my apartment later that day with 2 other policemen/women, bullied and forced me out of my home, Name 4 Acted me and sent me to Psych Ward Name via ambulance and restraints. I was told by all 3 police that Hospital Namewas going to examine me and look into why my stomach was so enlarged. I was kept at Psych Ward Name all night. No one examined me nor did the ask about my stomach issues or my vaginal soreness from being REPEATEDLY raped. I was then taken by ambulance in the middle of the night to Mental Institution Name 2. All of this was STRONGLY AGAINST MY WILL. Date 2: 1st day at Mental Institution Name 2: --Violently ill and throwing up nonstop from the medication, which they stated they had no record of the next day in their charts, I was then given a shot in the buttocks because I refused the medication that made me ill and then reacted terribly from the shot, jumping out of my skin for a straight 24 hours. --Complained of my vaginal soreness throughout my 2 week stay due to being repeatedly raped and no medicine was given to me for this, I was completely ignored. --Was unable to shower for days due to lack of towels --Badgered/Harrassed by another drunk patient who threw her dirty diaper in my room in the middle of the night and frightened me. When I complained to staff about this nothing was done. ---Changed my medication the first time with a new medication which caused my tongue to swell up, was unable to talk the entire day/evening. --Psychiatrist who was assigned to me decided to change my medication again throughout my 2 week stay which made me more anxious, feeling like I was going to have panic attacks. She then decided to give me an injection to treat skyzophrenia in my left arm. I am NOT SKYZOPHRENIC. My left arm blew up and was very achy. She wanted to keep me for an additional 4 days after that to give me the second injection so I then petitioned the court to be discharged with the help of the public defender, Public Defender. Public Defender never mentioned anything about the mandatory 72 hour hold for LegalActs, as I was already kept against my will for nearly 2 weeks before reaching out to him for assistance. I Learned that on the police report Name 3 stated false 911 calls. THIS IS A BLATANT LIE and the report was falsified. I followed up on a rape kit and responded to Name 3's call ONLY WHEN SHE CALLED ME. Date 3 Discharged from Mental Institution Name 2 I was traumatized for a week after being discharged. I was unable to drive or leave my house due to constant panic attacks. To this day I still baracade my front door with 3 dining room chairs due to lack of protection from the police, as my rapist is still at large. In addition to this, I was told the police threw out my Rape Case due to insufficient information. REGARDING THE INSPECTION FROM Agency Name: It was 7 months from point of complaint sent to the field office for them to inspect. We are no longer in COVID so this does not make sense why it took so long. I was held for 10 days with no hearing and no sign of voluntary admission. There is no evidence in the medical records that a petition was even requested per law. This is CLEARLY false imprisonment! I have been continually suffering from PTSD, Nightmares & Panic Attacks since this horrific incident has occurred. I am seeing a Psychiatrist and have been prescribed 3 psychotropic drugs to help assist in my suffering. I have already called 20Location 2 ATTORNEYS & 10 Location 1ATTORNEYS since last year to try and seek justice however no one is willing to take on my case. I have been walking around for nearly 3 years carrying all this pain of sexual and emotional trauma and there are days that destroy my peace so much that I get physically ill. I have several health issues that have developed since relocating to Location 2 and Doctors that are unable to cure me. I am grateful for the few people I have in my life who offer support and so happy yo have this platform to assist in my healing. Thank you for listening. ❤️

I saw the movie tonight with my little sister. We grew up together in an abusive home, everything that Lily’s father did to her mom, our father did to ours (and even worse). He sometimes did those things to us too. From the fact that he’s still portrayed as a beloved father to many, I found consolation in the movie tonight. I realised that I’m not that child anymore, I’m safe now and most importantly, I can stop swimming now. And you also, my little sister, we can both stop swimming now. I love you.

i want justin baldoni to know how proud dv people are of him. i can tell how much he cares and this movie he made has impacted him. my father is a very verbal and physical abuser and my mom left after 20 years and im forever grateful and im so glad they made this movie. thank you justin.

I wanted to start this assignment with a thought out and solid reflection that I can use as a milestone for my own memory in a visual form as my life’s purpose growth milestone. In my initial Learning Plan I chose to be committed to gain my knowledge by focusing on the Individual Meaning-Making plan. After reflecting on my first journal and the feedback from Discussion 5, I realized that my growth as a disruptor happens most deeply, emotionally, and internally/or spiritually, when I have legitimate space and time to sit with the texts and take personal inventory privately before sharing. This takes much awareness and consistent action from your body. Being in a state of observation, is exhausting at times, due to outside distractions/ & forces. As I grew in wisdom the patterns were hard to ignore, the synchronicities where hard to ignore, and the life force behind these supernatural and teaching moments became energetically strong that a coincidence would have been an understatement to the Creator of the Universe, and to ourselves. Give yourself the opportunity and love with daily purpose filled time for 30 minutes for 1 month, uninterrupted and free of digital distraction. Grounding meditation can restore and give your nervous system a reset and time back that you slacked off in the past. Many growing mature individuals prior to having healthy boundaries with positive reinforcements in their daily habits and lives needed to experience the lesson firsthand. These life lessons/ street smarts aka spiritual wisdom is transfigured for us to understand and process into words for teaching the people of our communities, as they hold the generations new leaders. A 6-month worth of 40 hour work period can accomplish the equivalence of 1 month of endless doom scrolling can. The focus and passion behind your self love is enough frequency and energy to shift a multitude of things in life as whole by showing up for thyself, first, naturally and wholesome. Healing takes place once we recover the pieces we allowed to be scattered by the unwanted distractions media leads us to believe are grandiose. This journal marks my progress in that commitment, moving from identifying the falsified labels of Journal 1 to unmasking the systemic roots that create those labels and life threatening constructs/ systems in the first place. In Journal 1, I explored Eli Clare’s medical model and how it exiles us from our own bodies by treating ourselves as broken parts. While we can be hurt from trauma and emotionally inducing experiences that strike our nervous system to go in defense. Its our body’s way of playing tricks on our minds, it does what it needs to survive and defend its vulnerabilities from reoccurring experiences, they may not always be healthy or positive either. But nonetheless, the innocence of your experience shifted, and the defenses are not malfunctions. We are not robotically “wired” like that, so broken we cannot be. Recovering the lose wire and restoring it can fix the little glitch in our thought processes when it comes to how we see ourselves confidently. You can say it took me going through my own recovery, to be in recovery, in a way for me to really understand it by. I went through life in a repetitive cycle, same spirit behind a person, different person/ body. At times the spirit and force was stronger than before, strengthening the skill/lesson. I had a hard time letting go of people in emotionally dependent way. Withholding care and affection from a child does tremendous disturbances to their brain development, temporarily having a negative affect in their efficacy in adulthood. The keyword was temporarily, because I want to emphasize the part I say, we can not be broken, as a human, as a spirit, as a person, as a live being. This week, I am expanding that lens. I see now that the exile isn't just a doctor’s note but rather it is an environmental reality. When I applied to college I did so only for the purpose of understanding if I was really “trippen” and psycho. My abuser and ‘partner’ roommate, baby’s dad sitter, had done enough damage to me verbally in what was already 3 years together. I was sharing with him a life altering and dark season of my life, I was 16, mom was in prison, and I was living in the home my dad worked hard for to psy off in 15 years what should have been the typical 30 year mortgage plan, without my dad, she divorced him with forged documents and signatures. Her friend Friend's namestayed there in the time she was gone, he was there to “hold down” the place while she was gone and my dad kicked out. I had my boyfriend at the time, over when a fire explosion came from the gas dryer.It took 3.5 hours and 2 attempts to shut it out completely. Well fast forward, I was sharing that with him and last thing I had said was “I would hate to ever experience that again cause WTF”. I was on my way to bed with the kids in their room and I had gotten a wiff of something on fire or burning. I mentioned to Namewhat I was smelling and was met with a dismissal of “your trippen I don’t smell shit”.. I did my due diligence and checked if I left any candles on to make sure my end was clear. Nameis a cig smoker, the least he could of done was give me the benefit of the doubt and at least say “ill check outside” or something reassuring, considering the ending of our conversation. Lame excuse of a man who says they love me but meet it with actions like that. I wake up to my daughter crying as the smoke comes out from underneath her crib and floorboards. It was God’s way of giving me the warning signs before knowing there was a war I was about to go head on with. I wasn’t so aware then, but surely that awakening was enough to clarify that I wasn’t trippen, he is dangerous, and needs his ass whooped. The cig he last smoked started the fire, the very action I told him is ugly to the environment and on himself, was the problem. “Flickering your cigarette butts like that is a big fuck you and is ugly to the environment” earned me the nagging bitch plaque. But was I wrong? His boy ego couldn’t allow him to simply humble himself to see where he went wrong on many levels. And my kids, man that was really the deal breaker for my heart and mind. I didn’t have the role model so I became my role model. I sat in the hotel room that same day after a long morning of betrayal and recovered myself and applied to college in 2022 to see the actions behind the “something has to change and give, cause aint no fucking way this is in my imagination or coincidence” self-revelation. I learned to unlearn so I can understand without barriers and prejudices. I needed to come back and save that young girl in me and validate her when she had none of her own. The courses ive taken over the years and the time gaps in between align in sync with the life changing experiences I have during those seasons. With Minneapolis’ events, and my personal events, and the timing of the courses, the time couldn’t be better. My voice is being used in a time that matters for many on a multitude of levels and dimensions. With the easing of ice pressures and outside noise, to the epstieen files and charges taking place, justice being served, it makes me happy because I too receive that justice. Namegets angry with knowing this. He asked even “why are people talking about it so much anyway? What are they really going to do about it, cus it wont be much” as I was tying my Discussion 5 draft about silencing, as it happened in real time. This is what I mean by my curriculum is in sync with my life, allowing me to get the most out of it. We cannot have a healthy Spirit inside the vessel if the vessel is submerged in a toxic ecosystem. The root of our ick or that intuitive nudge that something is wrong or slightly off is found in the Imperialist Logic of Extraction (as discussed in the works of Jensen and LaDuke). Just as the medical model extracts our authority over our health and wellness, our economic and controlling systems extract life from the biotic community for the sake of falsified luxury. We are told to take personal responsibility for our health while the man-made dictating systems poison the very air and water we rely on and deserve. Professor, You asked how we dismantle these systems and my answer comes from a perspective of a uncorrupted mother and a student of life. We as a society must stop accepting random chance as an excuse for systemic suffering. The molestation and ritualistic sacrifices from my ‘caregivers’ was not enough of an excuse for me to give up on myself. The robbery that took place within me is what I needed to ignite the flame in my heart and do what many wont do. If they don’t do it for themselves, how can I be sure they can do it for me. Is my new motto and affirmation. When a specific group is consistently marginalized or poisoned, it isn't a flipped coin, it is a weighted die. We dismantle the system by refusing the repetitive washed up apologies that have no action behind the verbal meaning of what is being spoken from the mouth. This is the slow violence of the systems, expecting us to accept a verbal apology while the environment is still smoldering. (Nixon 2011, Randall 2009) We move away from the arrogant ego of dominance and return to a meekness that listens to the earth by sitting still and listening to ourselves, allowing the Creator to guide our spirits and minds to a higher level of understanding and knowing. To be a disruptor is to stand in our authority and name the truth and expose lies. We are not masters of the nature, we are members of it. True healing is the return to our nature and doing so unapologetically. By following those little nudges from the Creator/universe, I am learning to slow down and recognize that my wellness is tied to the wellness of the whole. My authority isn't about power over others, but about the power to stay authentic to the truth and stewarding it righteously. This journal is my manual guide to what it looks like to act with effort as I reclaim my identity from the language and false beliefs of oppression and to stand with the truth in the name of love, because loves also needs love in order to heal and recover from this.

For a long time, a seemingly eternity, I have always felt ashamed at being at the receiving end of DV as a man. I always thought that it eroded my masculinity. After 12 years since leaving my abuser, and with age, I see things differently, but surely scars always remain. The thing about DV for men is that society, a big part at least, discard DV as reason why a husband would end a marriage with a wife. I guess the gossip of extramarital affairs has more of a ring than people confronting the ugly truth that a woman, and a charming one at social gatherings, can be abusive, mean, and violent. Without going into the long history of violence pre-marriage, as early as maybe the first six months of going out, I got delivered my first black eye in an elevator. Now I can laugh at it - picture having a heated argument with your girlfriend, you walk out towards the elevator, as you wait you hear footsteps approaching you, the elevator opens, you turn your back towards the footsteps and see you girlfriend, and think, she’s come around and maybe ready to talk. Instead, youre delivered a punch to your eye that pushes you to the back of the elevator, and the doors closed as you’re thinking what the hell just happened. The complexity of my story is that by the time I decided to leave her, 12 years after the elevator incident, there were 2 small children involved, a 3 and half little boy, and a couple of months old girl. Leaving your children is the must gut wrenching thing that any parent has to deal with. There was a certain stigma attached… why? Why did he leave this poor woman with two small children - he is a monster, untrustworthy, cheater, what kind of man would do that? And these were not comments for strangers, in some cases, they came from colleagues, ‘friends’. Truth is that it took many attempts. The defining one, surprisingly came for my little boy. In one of the final fights, my little one intervened. He stepped in, took me out of the room by the hand, took me to the living room and in his imperfect language told me that ‘mommy is angry right now, so stay here, but then she will be ok’. I will never forget the bravery of this boy to stop his mother from hitting his father. As I cried in the sofa, something inside me snapped. I would not allow my little boy, and infant girl, to see that kind of DV ever. That would be the last time, or so, that I would be abused. We separated, she moved to the US to her parents with the children. In that year I visited frequently. After a year she came back to the country where I was stationed, seeking reconciliation for the benefit of the children. I had moved on. Incredibly, I had met an incredible person who took what I call the most significant gamble in history - a leap of faith. She took a broken man and gave so much care and love, that I actually began to erase so much numbness. In the years that have passed, I’ve had so much time to reflect. To put it simply, no body ever should feel that there is no way out, even though it would seem that way. When I was in the deep end of things, I remember thinking that I was in this deep hole, but the only person in the world that could take me out of there was the person who put me there in the first place. That’s the thing about abusers, they hurt you, but after, they try to make it up doing things that you mistake for love and care - let me make you a chicken soup so you feel better. Or, you made me do this to you, but let me go get ice so your face doesn’t swell. In hindsight, I should have spoken more, be less ashamed. I feel I did not counter sufficiently the narrative that was put forth by my ex-wife. The narrative that I left her for another person, and that I never wanted kids, therefore, thats why I fled the home. The reality is that the impact of leaving the children was the heaviest toll that to this day I carry. After three court cases, in three countries, and a joint custody, I finally have a peace of mind that the children, now teens, are ok, and that seeing them happy, truly happy, and doing well at school and socially might have been a sacrifice worth taking. Their mother was never violent towards them, or at least not in a physical manner. Some takeaways: 1. There are signs, there are always signs. Do not ignore them as you begin entering more serious stages of relationships.. As one lady said to me one day on the street, when she witnessed my girlfriend hitting me. ‘If she hits you now, wait until youre married’. 2. Confided in family and friends, and listen to them! They know you better than perhaps, when youre young, you know yourself. After I got divorced, some school friends came to me and said…. Really? You thought that would work? 3. Be honest with yourself. You know if something is wrong. If there are red flags. Be honest with yourself. 4. Importantly, there are many people in the world and there is a special one that is willing to place all her/his chips to bet on you. You shouldn’t feel cornered and that you will face eternal loneliness once you leave your abuser, no matter how many times they will say that to you. 5. It is better to be alone than being in an unhealthy relationship. Your mental health will thank you for it. 6. Lastly, leaving an abuser is not an act of cowardice, throwing the towel, it’s an act of love, to yourself!

I'm a 63-year-old woman who has endured abuse all of my life. The abuse started with my mother who was a narcissistic sociopath. She would beat me with a 2x4 shaped into a paddle so she could get a good grip on it. I would get beaten every single day. She would say the abuse was due to me wetting my underwear. I would have to take off my underwear every night and she would smell them. If they had even the slightest hint of urine that was enough of a reason to get beaten. It was like a catch 24, if I was out playing I wouldn't go home to go to the bathroom because I was afraid of getting beaten, but if I didn't go home to go to the bathroom I would get beaten. I spent my entire childhood in fear. She would steal my money, throw my things away, tell lies about me. She knew I was my father's favorite, so I wasn't allowed to speak to him. I was brainwashed to believe this was how every family lived. When I got married I married my mother. He also abused me. He would lie, cheat, and steal from me. I was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. When I would go to my treatments I would take Fish crackers to help with the nausea. One day I went to the cupboard to get my crackers and they were all gone but one, just enough to make it look like they were still there and the container wouldn't have to be thrown away. I also was diagnosed with brittle bone disease. I was told I needed to drink alot of milk. We had a refrigerator in the garage where I would keep 5 gallons of milk, along with 1 gallon that was in the house refrigerator. One day I went out to the garage to get a gallon of milk and all 5 gallons were gone. He had drank all 5 gallons in just one week. Can you imagine doing that to your wife who has Stage IV breast cancer!!! He threw a hammer at my head as I was walking away from him. He burned our home to the ground and told the detectives I did it. He is also a narcissistic sociopath. While he was doing all this, he got my daughter to go along with him. She, as of today 10/11/25, is a liar, cheater, thief. She is abusive. She's only 25 and already has been married twice, has 2 children from each marriage and she hates them both. She uses her children as pawns to get her way. She has already used two childhood friends to try and get to me. I'm not stupid, I know what she's up to and I'm not falling for it. I've been divorced for 3 years now. I've changed my name, moved away, and started my life over, but she still finds me. I'm terrified of her. I know what she's capable of. I thought once I got divorced I would be free of the abuse, but I'm not. At this time, all I have is my faith that God will take care of me. God got me out of a horrific situation and I have faith the God will continue watching over me. I'm so happy I got out of my marriage, which lasted 35 years. The divorce took 3 years; the judge said it should've only taken 9 months. He wanted everything, so I gave him everything. The law needs to be trained to understand mental illness such as narcissistic sociopath to understand that they are prolific liars. My divorce attorney's husband even said, "he lies so well you almost have to believe him." That's the problem, the legal system believes them so the innocent get punished and the perpetrators get away with it.

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

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

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

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

I Say No More Cause..... I am a mother of a 5 year old daughter. I was 23 when I had my daughter, left my mothers house and moved in with my daughters father. You know there is a saying "you will only know a men true colors once you live with them under the same roof", its absolutely true. My daughters father was a drug addict and he loved women. I used to get beaten up for asking questions for looking at his phone and especially when i use to find out the truth, that was it knowing about the truth should eat him up. He use to beat me while i had my daughter in my arms, he use to chock me till i have a black out, he use to take my head and bang it on the wall and fridge, he use to call me names , disrespect me and my family. He sold/pawned all my daughters jewelry to support his bad habits. I was so stupid cause i left him & went back around about 3 times. Do you know at one point he was saving my neighbors (female) picture on the phone , he use to chat to a lady that was married and bad mouth me to her. I was dark in my skin . I was so thin (I) use to fit in a size 26 jeans I still have scars on my body cause of the dirty, dis-respectable animal not even a women begin. As for his family they never kept me safe at all even when I spoke up.When he use to lift his hands for me I started doing the same to protect myself from digging my own grave, I had to stand up for myself cause nobody else was going to do it for me. The day I left my daughters father for good was the day he broke my nose he punched me in the face I was covered with blood, still lied to my family and said "I fell in the bathroom" but deep down I knew my family knew it was a lie. Today I still look in the mirror with a Crockett nose. I packed my daughters & my clothing called my father and went to my mum. It has been 2 and a half years since I am not with him, thanks to my mother I look an feel beautiful again. My parents & 2 sisters supported my daughter & I till I got a stable job. I am so glad that I walked away as soon as i seen blood on myself that was it. I TOLD MYSELF I HAD ENOUGH.... Date today am 28 married to such an amazing men that treats me like a queen never disrespected me or even tried to lift a finger on me, makes me feel beautiful , loved am truly blessed. My daughter does not have to see her mother getting beaten again. Oh yes am in a size 34 jeans now :-), it feels great. I say am blessed cause the men i married accepted me with my scars and a daughter. ''DONT BE AFRAID TO WALK AWAY"

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

I am a cis-gender, woman. For as long as I can remember, I have identified as bisexual. I was never "closeted", but I did grow up in the mid-Atlantic suburbs in the '70s, so having a girlfriend who was anything more than a "buddy" wasn't even available to me. In fact, it wasn't until 1973 that homosexuality was removed from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). So I didn't grow up thinking that I could ever act on my feelings for women. As I matured, I dabbled a little bit, but not anything fulfilling. My longing for sexual intimacy with a woman increased in intensity once I hit peri-menopause. At a certain stage in my adult life, I found myself obsessing 24/7 about having a sexual relationship with a woman. That day came when I ran into someone from my past - someone whom I knew was gay - someone to whom I had a strong, physical attraction that was so unbearable, it nearly drove me mad. Seriously. I still question whether I was in my right mind when we were together because in hindsight, I tolerated behavior from her that was incredibly abusive and abnormal, just so I could get laid. Because in the beginning, the sex was great. The first time we kissed, my head almost exploded. And when we finally had sex, I felt as if the whole world came to a stop, and I realized that THIS IS WHAT HAD BEEN MISSING FROM MY LIFE! But, just as adolescents confuse chemical changes associated with sex with love, so did I. When she gazed into my eyes and told me that she had always loved me, I believed her. It felt magical. I was enchanted. And, I thought that I was in love with her too. The abuse started a few months after we began "dating". I put that word in quotes, because she was so closeted that we didn't dare hold hands in public or get caught kissing. (By the way, her reaction to getting "caught" was SO extreme, that she violently pushed me away with both hands, the day her landlord caught me hugging her goodbye, as he took out the garbage.) We were in the car, driving home from a day of hanging out in the city. Much of her abuse happened in the car because there, I was a captive audience who couldn't escape her ranting, raving, screaming, punching the door, the windshield, throwing things … We'd both had too much to drink that day, she had flirted with someone else (as she always did, I realize now in hindsight), words were exchanged between us about the incident, and she flew into a rage. She punched the car's rearview mirror so hard that it snapped off and flew across the car, missing my face by inches. I sat mutely in shock, frightened because we were in a moving vehicle on a major highway. It was then that I should have ended it. It was then that I should have seen her for who she really was, rather than who I was dreaming she could be. It was then that I realized that something didn't feel good about 'this" anymore. I stayed with her for 5 more years, during which time she trapped me in the car with abusive tantrums regularly. That night was just a preview! During the on again / off again time that we were together, she made grand, romantic promises to me about a life together; living in a nice house, all the money she was going to make, blah, blah, blah. In her next breath, she would berate ME for not making enough money, for not having more important or more interesting friends. She taunted me for not being - as she put it - "a spectacular fuck". And - more than once - she put me down for having had sex with men before we met. Or as she put it, "All the dick you sucked before we met". This, despite the fact that she had undergone two abortions (after having unprotected, reckless sex with men of course) and that she constantly flirted with them when we were out. She also bragged to me about her former lovers (all of whom had either died or cut her out their lives completely). She was homophobic. She said that she hated being gay, and that she hated me for being gay. She would insist that I wasn't gay at all. "You're just a straight chick who gets off on fucking women", she said to me. A laughable statement, because THIS is what turned HER on! I was not the first woman that she believed she had "turned", despite my protests that I am and always have been, bisexual. She delusionally thought that she had some kind of special power to turn straight women gay. She would have melt-downs any time that I wanted us to be a visible couple, insisted that I could not "come out" - even though we traveled to places that were gay friendly, had gay friends and that we WERE gay. The emotional abuse increased in frequency, but took place in secrecy, so I had nowhere to turn. I began to live with a knot in my stomach and depression started to take over my life to the point where I not only lost my identity, but I lost my desire to live. The secrecy that she forced me into kept her abuse of me a secret too, even from our mutual friends. Each time that I tried to break up with her, those big, fat, alligator tears would start. For me, that's really hard to take from a woman. I've seen men cry, but HER tears sucked me back in every time. Sucked. That's a good word for it, on many levels. She was sucking the life out of me and I was the sucker who fell for her lies, every time I tried to break it off. She reeled me back in each time, like a fish on a hook. One day, as she stood in my kitchen berating me once again, immediately after I had taken her on another miserable vacation where all she did was put me down, I finally snapped. "Get the fuck out" I said. My calm tone must have really frightened her, because she left. Finally. I'd had enough mental and emotional abuse. There was nothing wrong with me and yet, she berated me and criticized me constantly. I had gained weight, I had lost friends, my own family didn't recognize me anymore. "Your attention span is so short, maybe fingerpaints would be good for you!" She actually SAID this to me! This is how she treated me. Constantly. But I stayed with her, for the promise of what I thought we might have. Promises that she filled my head with, in bed when we had sex. Sex, that she slowly began to use as a weapon of control and manipulation over me. She withheld physical affection, flirted with other women, and treated me like shit. Then, in the very next breath, she would suggest that we open a joint bank account, "For our future", she said with a warm smile and a sparkle in her eye. Thankfully, I never fell for that lie. I've always worked hard for my money, and I wasn't going to share it with someone who turned out to be a fucking monster, a liar, and an imposter. I already suffered from PTSD, and she preyed upon it. It increased in intensity while we were together. When I met her, I was a very pretty, self-confident woman in great physical shape. My years with my abuser turned me into an overweight, anxious, angry, depressed person who trusts no one, and drinks too much alcohol. Therapy and breathing techniques help, along with a prescription for Xanax that I take occasionally, but I still feel shame over having stayed in an abusive relationship for so long. I'm not a mental health professional, nor do I think it's appropriate for any layperson to "diagnose" someone (some of those "professionals" shouldn't either, by the way), but several personality disorders come to mind when I think of her such as ... Narcissistic … Histrionic … Borderline … even bipolar. In closing, I despise her and what she did to me. I'm glad that I finally rid my life of her, even though she tried several more times to weasle her way back in. I will always HATE her … but I'm beginning to love myself again.

There is something to be said about coercive convincing. Sometimes people can make an outwardly uncomfortable situation very appealing or just generally ok. It’s easier to fall trap to that when you know the person, think you know the person, have heard good things about the person from others you know, or you allow your curiosity to take over your instincts. You must learn to trust your gut. Don’t silence it. Be ok with their discomfort. You, your health, mentally and physically, are more important.

I want to share my experiences, as I have many times but never in print or where I can leave it for other survivors to read. I want you to know that you ARE better than the abuse you might be receiving. You ARE amazing. You ARE resilient and can absolutely do whatever you set your mind to. I was in an abusive relationship for 8 years. Of course the abuse started slowly, so slowly I could write it off as my fault or an accident. I lived with a friend at 21 and met the man who would eventually become my children's father. I remember telling my friend that he had shoved me on the bed, directly on my cat so I might hurt her too. I remember that friend telling me "He reminds me of my ex-husband, the one who broke my jaw for catching him cheating on me" and of course I didn't listen. Slowly the abuse got worse physically, mentally, emotionally. Eventually I started to fight back, not physically but would try to talk him down or just defend myself and he would rape me, as a point to show me who was still in control. I had out of body experiences- got knocked out by force- to wake up locked away in a hotel room with my keys gone and phone taken so I couldn't call for help. I loved him and couldn't bear to call the police on him- by this time I knew he was here illegally. I knew most of his family were here illegally. They would sit around the living room hearing me getting my ass handed to me and in the beginning I wondered why they wouldn't interfere- I later learned that if anyone interfered then my beating got worse because "you're cheating on me with HIM" or something similar. A couple years go by and most of my friends have moved on or were disgusted that I stayed with him- I was pretty good at hiding what was really going on because he loved hitting me where most people wouldn't see a bruise. I truly believed that I could help him, or fix him, because his childhood was rough growing up in the mountainous countryside of location and his father was abusive. Plus I knew that for the most part their women are brought up submissive, so it was all acceptable for a long time. I made excuses for him and he would cry to me and say "I know it's wrong but I can't help it, I watched it my whole life- watched my mother die because of my father." Plus he crossed the border when he was about 16 and was traumatized from that also. He just knew how to manipulate me and my emotions and for years I had no idea. I was attending college while pregnant at 25 and my classmates knew and tried to help me but I wasn't ready yet. Not until he hit me and split my eyebrow open with his fist when I was 6 months pregnant. My mom dragged me to the police station and wouldn't let me leave until I pressed charges against him. That was when she learned about my years of abuse- my family suspected but I was good at hiding it. It took me having my little girl - my saving grace, my reason for waking up back then- to learn I was better than the abuse I was getting. I realized that I didn't want her growing up in that kind of environment, never wanted her to think that any sort of abuse is okay or even remotely acceptable. That was when I started thinking about leaving him. That's when God shows up glaringly obvious to me then- he gets arrested. Finally I have one foot out the door. Then 2. Then I lose that apartment we were living in because I had been on HUD and he wasn't supposed to be there. I go back to my parents house with my 1 year old daughter. A year later I get pregnant once more by him. By this time I am self-medicating for depression/anxiety/PTSD and trying to fill that void left behind by him. He had introduced me to drugs and snorting pills during our relationship. I was struggling with answering/not answering the phone when he called and jumping when he asked for things. By all rights, my 2nd child should have been born with withdrawals and once again God showed up for me and my child. A month prior to her birth I went to church and without even knowing me that pastor spoke to my soul and him and his congregation healed my unborn child. Today my girls are age 1 &age 2years old and thriving. My little savior and miracle child. Their father was deported a few years ago and he stopped calling/checking in on our girls. They know what kind of person he was and how he treated me and they don't really want anything to do with him though they have attempted to reach him via FB because they want answers. They want to know why he doesn't try to call them anymore, why he hurt me. I have never wanted to be that parent who keeps their kids from the other parent. My mom struggles with that concept but honors it for them. I want my kids to decide whether they want him in their life or not though he seems to have made that choice for them. He has always been selfish. 18 years later I still struggle with my self worth, have struggled to stay clean. I am strong, I am resilient, I am a great mom. I love myself Most days. Most days I know my worth, though I have been in a relationship with someone I thought was perfect for me but now I struggle with whether or not this relationship is healthy.

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

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

I met a guy in 2018 and we got together after my grandmother died. After seeing each other a couple of times, the physical altercations started. Why I let it happen and stayed, I really could not tell you. I made 3 police reports but they were all eventually dismissed. We eventually moved in together and had a son. I did love him and he took care of me (I'm a type 1 diabetic). He was very sweet and always told me I was the most beautiful woman in the world. BUT he was very jealous and possessive and whenever we fought, he usually put his hands on me. I got a black eye, bruised ribs, scratches, bruises, a busted lip, a chipped tooth and many scars. In 2023, he passed away from a drug overdose. I was very sad but also I felt like I was now free. That sounds so awful but I didn't have to worry anymore about going somewhere he didn't want me to or talking to someone he didn't want me to or just doing anything he didn't want me to. Again, why did I stay? I did truly love him and other than that, I don't know.

I do not know if it’s because I am a woman, because I am Hispanic, because I didn’t have Mommy and Daddy swooping in to shield me from accountability-probably a mix of all but one thing is true.. Evil Lives in Small Court Houses I am a survivor of domestic violence whose life has been destroyed not only by years of physical abuse, but also by coercive control, legal retaliation, and harassment that began the moment I tried to protect myself and my children. This is not a custody dispute. This is criminal misconduct, perjury, fraud, and public endangerment. The abuse began in 2021. I endured physical violence, including strangulation, intimidation, and control. In August 2024, after he slammed me into a wall with a door, I finally removed him from my home. That should have been the end. Instead, when the physical abuse stopped, the legal abuse began. Since then, I have faced relentless harassment. My ex and his attorney weaponized the courts, filing retaliatory restraining orders, false allegations, and motions designed to erase me as a mother. My own restraining order—based on police reports of injuries to me and my daughters—was denied without being heard. On the same day, they filed a retaliatory order against me. This wasn’t about safety. It was about control. Inside the courthouse, the abuse only escalated. I have been mocked, harassed, and threatened in open court. A bailiff physically covered my microphone and told me, “Stop talking or you’re going to lose your kids more.” When I pleaded with the court to recognize my daughter’s needs as a child on the spectrum, the commissioner mocked me: “I see you are crying, but I don’t see a single tear.” (with the most evil voice)As if I was acting. I have audio. What man in power says that to a mother losing her children? This wasn’t justice — it was cruelty, and it violated my rights. And I am not alone. Other parents in this courthouse describe the same treatment. The consequences have been devastating. Had my restraining order been approved back in November, I would still be with my daughters. I would still have my home. I would still have my business. Instead, my children have been withheld from me for over two months. I now live out of a bag after a self-help eviction, forced from my home while a retaliatory unlawful detainer is on appeal. I was coerced into signing a stipulation under distress, another example of being taken advantage of at every angle. The safety risks are undeniable. My ex is a convicted felon with multiple DUIs. He lied under oath about his firearms, refused to surrender them, and has since purchased more guns illegally. Meanwhile, his attorney impersonated an appellate court clerk—on audio—just to get my address. This is fraud. This is criminal. Yet the court has protected them while punishing me. This is not due process. This is coercive control—domestic violence that has evolved from fists to filings, from physical intimidation to psychological and legal warfare. My children have become pawns in a campaign to erase me. If the system had worked as it should, I would still be with my daughters, in my home, running my business. Instead, I am homeless, silenced, mocked, and still unprotected. Justice should be for all—not just for those who can afford a malevolent attorney willing to do anything to destroy the other parent. #tipswelcome #❤️

I’m 20 now; when I was 13 a childhood friend started to see me in a more (clearly) sexual light. I wasn’t very attractive as a child (big curly hair, acne, too tall for my age), so when he began to show interest I didn’t discourage it. I even flirted back. We met at our old middle school, once, before our freshman year of highschool. He didn’t want to look at me, he only wanted to touch me. He kissed me in a way that’s irrepetible because of how violating it was. Once we started highschool, he asked to come over to my house. I thought he was just joking because it was 9pm at the time. He took me behind my apartment complex and wouldn’t listen to me when i said stop. I told one of my sophomore friends, who reported it to the school as a sexual assault. He and I had separate meetings with the school, and our schedules were changed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, because of how popular he was. He began going around our school telling everyone he had r***d me (he hadn’t). Then he flipped the narrative that, of course i was lying. I would hear girls talking about me when I was sitting right in front of them. I wanted my story to be heard. I wanted everyone to know what he did to me. Nobody listened. Nobody cared. Nobody apologized to me. “He didnt do it to me, and he’s still my friend, sooo….” is what I heard from 80% of the girls that I told. That experience cracked me. When I was 15, I was (ACTUALLY) r***d by a 34 year old man. I felt like I was ruined goods. I felt like nobody cared about what happened to me, nobody cared that I was so traumatized that i didn’t care if i lived or died. Later that year, I met a 19 year old who got me on fentanyl. I would overdose 4 times in front of him. After the last one, he told me I had wasted money and product with my overdose. We stayed together until I was 16.5 and he was about to be 21. He ‘cheated’ on me with a 14 year old and countless of his friends. By 17, I realized my Prince Charming was never going to come save me, and I had to do it myself. I decided to start my own life. Stop living in the past, and get my shit together. I enrolled in community college hoping to get my nursing degree eventually. Realized that wasn’t the right path for me, and now I’m 2 months away from graduating from a prestigious cosmetology school & am the executive assistant at a 5 star salon. For some of us, it’s on ourselves to pick the pieces up and put everything back together. Now that I am 20 years old, I feel that i’ve lost so much time suffering in my silence, so much youth wasted as an anxious puddle who didn’t want to be perceived. Live for your future. Live for the laughter and the smiles. Every day we make it through, is a day we accomplished. Some days will be better than others, but we’re always moving forwards, never backwards.