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I was used and abused by my next door neighbor's teenage son for two years, from age 4 till age 6. I was friends with his little sister and him and he gained my trust after my mom and I moved into the house. The first time it happened we were in the living room and he got my Simpsons sheet from my room and we went under the sheet and he unvelcroed his board shorts and took his penis out and put my head on it, telling me to pretend it was a bottle, it was frequent between oral and anal and I didn't understand how bad it was, my mom caught it finally and it stopped. My mom was going to press charges but his dad was a former police officer and my decided to not go through with it. As a child afterwards I moved forward, in my teens and adult years, I'm 36 almost 37, relationships have been difficult. I'm have not been intimate with any woman.

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 would like to help women ( or men) learn that you can overcome the difficulty of leaving Domestic Violence and start life , in my case, for the 1st time I was "married" for 20 years in the DV and have been out for 13 years. It is a difficult process, but worth the effort to give yourself your life.

Learning about the different forms and signs of abuse saved me. I never thought I would end up a victim of domestic abuse. My lack of knowledge on what abuse looks like resulted in me falling right into my abusers trap. The five year long relationship began normally, I quickly fell in love with a partner that showered me in compliments and exciting experiences. About 6 months in, the warning signs began to show, and my family expressed concern, but I brushed it off, as I was overall happy with them at the time. Things quickly got worse, and I was isolated from my friends and family. I was subject to frequent criticism and belittling, name calling and being mocked while I cried, fully believing that I was the problem. I was comforted by calm talks from my partner after explosive outbursts, agreeing that things will be better once I learn to do better. Despite my efforts, this never stopped. I was constantly walking on eggshells around them. God forbid I upset them while they were driving, or they would speed and weave through heavy traffic, screaming and slamming their fists on the steering wheel. Then they began throwing things during outbursts. Screaming at me so close to my face I could feel spit landing on it. They angrily grabbed my wrist once, and looking back I see now the progression that was being made toward more physical violence. Resources online and finally reaching out to my family opened my eyes to what was happening. I felt brainwashed, and it took time to fully accept it for what it was. When I left, at one point my abuser stood in front of the door so I couldn’t leave. They yelled and knocked things over. Another form of physical abuse. I am in therapy now, and working through PTSD. I am so grateful for my family and friends, and the support online that gave me the strength and knowledge I needed to get out. I now know that what I went through was not my fault. My abuser was a master manipulator, as most are. Everyone can benefit from being knowledgeable on the many forms of abuse that exist.

I am now 74 years old and still suffer PTSD related to my abuse over 50 years ago. I was married for 7 years and 5 of them were spent trying to find resources so I could leave. Unfortunately, there were none. The police officers would tell me, “You need to figure this out.” I had four children. My second son passed at 6 weeks. Which was a god send because my husband had another girl pregnant. She ended up getting an illegal abortion inCity. My third child, a girl, is still with me. My fourth child I gave up for adoption because I was planning on leaving and didn’t know what my future held. I was rescued by my father on a very chaotic night. I packed two suitcases and my 20 year old sister drove me to their house while my father stayed behind to confront my husband. Of course he completely denied any abuse but my dad had proof that he couldn’t argue with. I believe my dad threatened his life. Within two weeks I was in counseling that was charging what my income was. Nothing. So my counseling sessions were $1.50 a week. I had a hysterectomy that my husband refused to let me have, and signed up for nursing school. I lived with my parents for a little over a year until I graduated. I bought a beater car and became a single mother of 2. I am not an easy person to know because of my suspicions about peoples motives. Trauma is something that fades with time. I married again after five years and have been married 42 years. My message is to never give up. Thankfully, there are many resources for women now. Push and push hard to be seen and heard. I finally found my voice, you can too.

It Ends With Us confirmed that I had made the right decision. After twelve years, I ended a marriage in which psychological abuse had begun to creep in. These are scars that no one can see, and one wonders if they’re even real. As a new mother in a different country, I was overwhelmed by everything that comes with it—but my husband's lack of emotional support and the verbal and psychological abuse rendered me invisible and pushed me down every day. All of this weighed heavily on me, I truly loved him. Voicing my struggles only made things harder: more anger, more abuse. I followed my heart, and now I can teach my child the importance of standing up for oneself. From the bottom of my heart: ¡gracias! Thank you for reflecting my strength in this movie. That first night away? The best sleep I’ve ever had.

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 was 15 when I first started dating my former abuser, up until I had escaped him after I turned 18. I am happy to say it has been 5 years since I had escaped him, and the PTSD does not affect me as much as it used to anymore. I’ve found writing poetry allows me to express my emotions and work through the triggering memories. A poem I wrote to work through them is written below, it may be triggering to you so read it only if you feel comfortable with doing so. It is titled “Why Did She (I) Stay?”. If you have not heard it today, allow me to tell you this: you are strong, you are loved, you are amazing, you are a survivor. And you are not alone. You can thrive after abuse. 💜 “Why Did She (I) Stay?” June 8th, 2017, is a date I will never forget. Not only was it my first date with a boy, at the age of 15, it was the day that I unknowingly opened Pandora’s box, one that I naively unlocked. June 20th, 2017, we went bowling, he asked me to be his girlfriend, even though I was about to be 16 in a couple months, and he would be 18, a legal adult. The question left my head spinning like the ball thrown down the alley. I had no idea the bowling balls thrown would turn into punches being thrown, me being thrown- into walls, and crying over my brother’s death? Forget it, he didn’t allow me to cry at all. March 15th, 2018, I was left crying in a private bathroom stall, at school, because I had found out I was pregnant while simultaneously losing my child, a daughter who I would never meet, hear the sound of her little pattering feet, and I cried in defeat. That was the day I lost even more of me, and while telling him about everything, he slapped me- across the face, and attempted the gaslighting. I couldn’t tell any of his family or mine, otherwise he’d do worse than yell, and I’d be fighting for my life. I could relay every event of abuse I suffered through, but that would take so much time, from me and from you. Fast forward, to October 6th, 2019. He was 20, and I was freshly 18, about to graduate trade school, and earn my degree, but that day was when I decided enough was enough, and I attempted to flee. He threw my things, all over the bedroom, the bathroom, and into the toilet and tub, because then he would have nobody to control, I mean show false love. He beat me within inches of my life, and at that point, I had to make a decision that would cut me worse than a rusty knife making a deep incision. I bought myself time, 24 hours to be exact, by claiming I would stay with him, all so I could keep my life intact. October 7th, 2019, was my freedom day. That morning, I called my mom to say, “Is it okay if I move back home? He’s been beating me, and I know I’ll die if I stay.” That night, we drove out there to get my things, and on the way home, all I could think is let freedom fucking ring. September 18, 2023, was the day I came face to face with my abuser again. Set to testify in his custody hearing, I knew what needed to be done to end his controlling even with my anxiety flaring. As I entered the courthouse, I turned around- and stared at him with a look I can’t reenact, but if looks could kill, I would’ve sent a million bullets firing back. That was the day I took my power back. Knowing I had no fear in my eyes, and seeing all of the fear in his, that was truly the day I ceased being a victim and rose as a survivor. I went into that at 15 as a naive teenager, and walked out of that courthouse at 22 now, as a damn fighter. To anyone who believes that they are alone, dealing with this, one thing I will say: it is better to be able to come home alive, than having your loved ones grieving every day and asking “Why did she stay?”

it actually began in the summer of 1975 when I was 8 years old. my brother came to home on thackeray court in the sheridan parkside projects. My brother brother 2 had just got his license and was so happy that he brought my brother along. while mom, brother 2, and my sister were outside, i was upstairs playing with my star trek playset, when brother came from the bathroom and asked me if I wanted to play doctor. I thought he meant the child's version of it, but he meant the grown-up version. so he asked me to take off my clothes then started feeling my naked body, touching my genitals and feeling my penis, and then said to me this is how people have sex. He then said some very filthy sex talk like you would read in hustler magazine, then said don’t tell mom or I’ll say that it was your idea. so mom and dad never knew about it. there was no police report or rape kit taken. fast forward to september of 1989 when I was 22 years old, my brother brother, his girlfriend, and their 6-month-old baby daughter came up from florida and stayed with mom and me for 3 months. And when mom was at work, they would rape me every night for 3 months, sometimes by her, sometimes by him, or sometimes by the two of them together. It was 90 days of hell every night. When I would go to bed, all I would think about is wanting to commit suicide just to make it all end. but I did not because mom finally found out about all of this in march 2012 when I turned 45 years old just for the simple reason he said that he would kill her if i said anything. So in june 2012, I started going to counseling because i was diagnosed with p.t.s.d because of it. i still go to this very day, 12 years later because sometimes my p.t.s.d flares up from flashbacks or because of the 4th of july fireworks and I talk to her about it, hold nothing back.

I was sexually assaulted when I was a child, raped when I was 18, and have been mentally emotionally and verbally abused since I was 19 and I am now 25. The saying is true, it does get worse the more you stay but what people don’t talk more about that needs to me, is the reason people like us don’t just get up and walk away. It’s hard, it is. It takes willpower, mental strength. Cutting that tie from the abuser seems like it will never happen, but once it does, it is the best feeling ever.

back in the summer of date i was 12 years old mom, dad, and myself went to city for a week o see my grandparents because i was summer break from school and we were having a cookout when relavives from my grandmothers side of the family came down to see her, they stayed at the ramada inn down the the road from my grandparents house, when it happened, after dinner i excused myself from the table so i could stretch my legs and i started going into the woods to go see the deer that were not far from my grandparents house, when lee came following behind me and took me by the arm further into the woods so nobody would be able to see what was about to happen, he made me strip naked and touched my naked body including my penis and my genitals and said to me this is how people have sex then he pulled his pants and boxers down and made me feel his penis and made me try to swollow it and threatened me by say dont you tell your parents or grandparents about this or i will say that you are lying about it so i never say a thing about it, then the next day he found me behind the house looking down the hill at the 18 wheelers going by on the interstate and took me into the basement forced me to take off my clothes and then forced me to masturbate well its a was good thing that i kept myself from ejaculating sperm because the basement floor was dirt and had my grandmother asked me about why the floor was wet i would have had to tell her because i could never lie to my grandmother because of our special bond between grandma and grandson, so once i got dressed again i walked around spread dirt all over where my bare feet were this way she had no idea about what had happened, to this day i wish i had told them because then that bastard would have died in prison but he has since passed away a very painful death so i dont ever have to worry about him ever again.

I really see no point in talking about anything when law enforcement does nothing with this information. I’ve been waiting many years now. I leave my Apple phone in lockdown mode because of repeated Pegasus hacks on my cell phones over the years. There is no private and safe way I can report crime like this when my phones are repeatedly hacked. Organizations like this aren’t reporting anything to law enforcement to protect rape victims still experiencing crimes from a rapist stalking them to death their whole lives into isolation and inevitable suicide because of no help ever being given by anyone.

We found each other through Match.com. The first time I hugged her, it was electric. Her body fit against mine perfectly. Being in an area where there aren’t tons of Christians, we were excited that our values and beliefs aligned really well. I liked that she wasn’t materialistic. Both of us were pretty inexperienced with relationships for being in our late 20s - she especially so. Her job involved high-level philanthropic work in the developing world, and I found that impressive and exciting, having previously taught English in a developing country myself. I imagined a life with her would be peaceful and would likely involve adventures together in Africa and Asia. She and I got engaged after eight months of dating, and we were married six months later. The first signs of physical abuse started less than a year after we married. We were having an argument in bed, and she used her feet to shove me out of the bed. Later came her first assault on me, when an argument culminated in her attacking me with her fists. Fits of punching me occurred three more times over the next 18 months. One of the times when she attacked me, she was driving a car and I was in the front passenger seat. We were going 40mph on a 4-lane road around a bend. It was very unsafe. Her violating my physical boundaries also included pinching my testicles and zits on my back after I told her it was painful, and it wasn’t ok. I wanted to share some examples of other abusive situations I endured as well. Once during an argument, she held a ladle over her head in a threatening way like she was going to hit me with it. Twice she banged on the bedroom door over and over after I had locked myself inside to put space between us when it was clear an argument was going badly. One of those times I called an emergency helpline. They stayed on the phone with me as I exited the room and left the house. Once she told me if we didn’t have a child by the time, she was a certain age, and then later we had a child born with disabilities or birth defects, she would blame me for that. She also tried guilting me for using condoms at a time when it was clear to me our relationship needed serious help before it’d be suitable to have a child together. I think these things count as reproductive abuse. Were there red flags? Looking back, I can say yes. One was her angry texts on occasions when I was running late to meet her. Another was that her mom, dad, and brother all said she was a handful as a child, particularly with her tantrums. I assumed that she had outgrown all of that by the time I met her. The final time she assaulted me was in an Airbnb while on vacation in Japan. By this point I had decided that if she got violent with me, I would basically not defend myself at all and would just let it happen. Part of her manhandling me in that Airbnb involved her trying to take my phone away from me. Had she succeeded at that, I would have been in serious trouble if I’d tried to flee. Soon after this happened, I made up my mind we needed to separate. She decided to get domestic violence treatment. I held out hope that if we lived apart for a while and she took her treatment seriously, we could resume our marriage. The second tipping point was when she violated the clearly laid-out terms of our separation by being aggressive toward me again when we got together at a public place (Chipotle) for dinner. That instance, combined with a phone call with a counselor named Name who is knowledgeable about dynamics of women abusing men, convinced me I needed to divorce her. She and I had been attending a Christian small group through our church. I had been a regular attender, and she had attended occasionally. When I initiated separating from her, she insisted on continuing to attend those small group meetings. We couldn’t both continue attending, so I let her have her way, and I stopped attending. This disconnected me from people I had gotten close to. Not one of those people reached out to me at any point after that. That was disappointing. There was a short period when I had made up my mind that I was going to divorce her, but I hadn’t yet figured out how I was going to tell her. I was seeing a counselor individually at that time (in addition to our couples counseling). He offered the idea I could tell her I was filing for divorce during a couples counseling session. For some reason that hadn’t occurred to me, but it was really helpful guidance. Considering her past violence, I was relieved to have the opportunity to break the news to her in a safe environment like a counseling session. (I informed the counselor in advance that I would be doing so.) The people closest to me were supportive of me taking our relationship problems very seriously, but they were also quite cautious about fully endorsing the idea of divorcing – even with knowing about the repeated violence. Reflecting back on this, I attribute their cautiousness about me divorcing both to gender-based double standards and to their Christian beliefs, which I shared. I don’t fault them for trying to help me make very, very, very sure that divorce was the right choice. However, considering that we didn’t have children, and considering how troubling her patterns of behavior were and her half-hearted demonstrations of taking responsibility for her actions, divorce was very obviously the right choice. I think that a personality disorder played a role in what I was experiencing from my ex, but at the time neither I nor the people closest to me offering advice recognized that. Speaking specifically about male DV victims, given that we can perceive men experiencing violence from their female partners as less serious than the other way around, I would say that men should be counseled to take even a single incidence of violence from their partner very, very seriously. Once an adult demonstrates they’re capable of totally losing their cool to the extent of physically lashing out, that is a bad sign about their capability of being a partner to you in a healthy relationship.An exception might apply if the person quickly takes responsibility (and remains consistent that their violence was wrong and not someone else’s fault), and then diligently implements measures to ensure they never do it again. The victim of violence should be educated that if there is any backsliding – with their partner shifting blame or not sticking to their treatment – they should end the relationship for good.

For years I questioned what I was doing wrong and how someone who loved me could be so comfortable hurting me. But they didn’t hit me so I never looked at it as DV or myself as a victim. Through different type of relationships, it was a revolving door, but they didn’t hit me so I wasn’t a victim. Until my last relationship. In 3 1/2 years, he put his hands on me once, but if I had just let him leave, he wouldn’t have done it. For the longest time, he was planting it into my head that I was the issue. The good times were really good so I overlooked the bad cause I loved him more than I loved myself in that moment. The way he loved my kids (who were not his) also kept me around for a lot longer than I should have. I planned a life with him in my head cause he was helping raise kids that weren’t his so he must be an amazing man to step up, until he started lacking. Then I realizing me being unhappy with him, was hurting my kids more than I knew. He made me believe that I was so “mentally unstable” no one would ever love me & that being 6ft down in a grave was the only way I was going to be able to get away from him. Then I left & I was so proud of myself. I started doing intensive therapy & working on myself & then the thoughts he planted in my head came back. “No one could ever love you the way I do because I was there for you in your lowest” & I broke the no contact & let him back in. Things were good at first, and then he would shove the past in my face & tell me how much he hated me & the verbal & mental abuse cycle began again. But this time, I knew better. I found out about mental & physical abuse, I did research, I was in groups & I was learning to love myself again. I had boundaries for the first time in a long time. And then I found out about the cheating a year prior while he was living at my house & the summer of the downward spiral had begun. I blocked him again & was so depressed, I began drowning it with alcohol. I felt my heart just break as this man had spent so much time accusing me of cheating while I was working to support my kids, just for him to turn around & do it to me. I almost lost everything & it took me losing 1 of my jobs to finally get back on track. I stopped drinking for a while, I found a better job, I spent more time with my kids & began re-evaluating what made me happy in life. I re-discovered my healthy boundaries, I was working more, I was laughing again & generally meaning it. I started talking to my friends about my feelings & where I was in life. For a year, things were going better (there’s always going to be the ups & downs but it was better). And then the 1 year of me blocking had come up & I caved & unblocked him on his birthday. At first it was to be petty, and then I found out he was seeing someone. I played it like I didn’t know anything, we hung out a few times & then the old him came out again but this time, I was in a better place & I knew what to accept & what to correct. I finally seen him being in my life was not good for me mentally & as much as I miss the him he pretended to be when we first met, I am learning to mourn the person who never existed. I don’t want to call him for every little thing anymore (good or bad). He doesn’t get access to me or my kids life anymore & I love the strong, independent female I am becoming. I’m so proud of the scars I’m healing & acknowledging that I’m human & I am going to have weak days that I might want to message him & I’m taking it 1 day at a time. Going from planning a future & a life with someone you thought was them to mourning someone who never actually existed is something most people will never understand (& I hope they never have too). Some days are easier than others & it’s ok to get lost as long as you find your way back to the track. I am strong because I have no other choice but I’m learning it’s ok to have weak days & I don’t always have to be so strong. Cry, scream, punching a pillow is healthy ways to let all of that out. I’m not perfect & I don’t have to be but I will be there for others going through this & let them know they’re not alone, it’s not their fault & they are very so much loved

For any survivor reading this, you are not alone. I come from a quite large family where abuse and neglect happened on a daily base, the abuse happened starting from 2 to around 13, I was very isolated and had a lot to learn when I was saved. I wasn't aware of all the dangers and knew nothing about healthy boundaries. I learned to be invisible and submissive. I quickly learned that my past caused me to be revictimized, I felt no self worth and thought the only way I was loved was by giving away my body to strangers, strangers who took advantage of this. When I was 16 I met this boy online, I trusted him and told him about my abuse history, he was very understanding and supportive. But the moment I turned 18 he wanted to meet me and he raped me for 3 days straight. I was naive and thought this was love and this continued for 6 months. I'm trying to heal and learn that I have worth outside of what happened to me and that it doesn't have to define me. Although my healing journey is nowhere near done I won't give up, because I am worthy of love and care that doesn't involve hurting me. I deserve to be treated with respect and so do you. Please don't give up on yourself, you will heal and you will get through this. We can do this together ❤️

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!

When I was 11 yrs old i was raped by three boys. We had just moved to the place i live now. I never told anyone until i was in high school. I lived with guilt and self harm for yrs over the incident until in therapy i learned that it wasnotmy fault and those boys had no right to do that. I try and help people by sharing my story. We should speak out about it

"Bones break. Organs burst. Flesh tears. We can sew the flesh, repair the damage, ease the pain. But when life breaks down, there's no science, no hard and fast rules. We just have to feel our way". -Meredith Grey so beautifully said this. But how do we deal with the aftermath of our story? We just have to allow ourselves to feel everything we don’t want to feel. I spent 7 years of my adult life with a man I didn’t feel safe with. His anger took control. We had a baby together and got married. The night of our wedding, I was standing on the balcony of our honeymoon suite, and I contemplated jumping to the ground below. I should’ve taken that as a sign. Multiple head injuries, emotional trauma, and other invisible wounds were the aftermath of the abuse. I finally decided that enough is enough. I am worthy of love and safety. I am worthy of so much more, and I will not do this anymore. We are getting divorced. I will end this cycle and teach my beautiful little boy that real love is not like that. He will be a better man. It truly does end with us.

No more feeling shame. The shame is my abuser's to bear. I was in an abusive relationship 7 years. She would Yell and throw items around the room. Tell me who I can and can't see, and where I could go. She would degrade me by playing on any insecurity I had. If I questioned her motives I was gas lighted to change my way of thinking. She would smack my chest and call it play fighting. She would convince me "I'm the only one who is looking out for you" she monitored where I was and how long I was there. I would hid in the bathroom, because I was terrified of her. She would convince me to cut people out of my life. She would manipulate me emotionally and physically. Everything was on her terms, she loved that I feared her. No more feeling afraid of speaking my truth. #yournotalone