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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.

The day I ran from my abuser, I felt an intense urge to turn the car around. My sister’s voice kept replaying through my head. “Catherine, keep your eyes on the road. Don’t look at your phone. Don’t stop.” For five years, I had been raped, beaten, brainwashed, stripped of my identity and isolated from my family and friends. I knew if I turned that car around, I wouldn’t survive. At first, I couldn’t do anything for myself. My sister had to remind me to brush my teeth, bathe and eat. My abuser had controlled everything, and I mean everything. From what and how much I ate to what I wore, how I spoke, and who I spoke to. I didn’t know how to live outside of him and his needs. For years, I had been operating in survival mode. Everything had centered around him, what he expected from me and what would set him off. I was constantly walking on eggshells. The day I escaped, he told me I was pregnant. The only birth control allowed was the pull-out method. Rape is a hard word for me, because I think of it as being physically held down. But he had psychological control over me. I had no agency or choice. I was to abide by his rules or there would be repercussions. Although pregnancy may have been physically impossible because my weight was around 90 pounds, I was still terrified. I was in the South. If I were pregnant, there would be little to no abortion access. Luckily, I was able to get the Plan B pill within 72 hours. In my mid-20s, I was diagnosed with HPV. My abuser had prohibited me from getting health insurance and health care. The domestic violence hotline gave me resources for health care in my sister’s area, a small town in Georgia. None of these resources would take me because I didn’t have health insurance. The only one who agreed to see me was the health department; they only tested for certain STDs and did not perform gynecological exams. Like many women who have been in my situation, I felt lost. I knew I would be going back home to New Orleans for the holidays. Fortunately, I was able to schedule an exam with Planned Parenthood. They were sensitive to my situation and provided me with information and options. Most importantly, the staff treated me like a person. Since I left, my life has gotten much better, but I’m still on edge. Daily, I have traumatic flashbacks and second-guess and dissect most things.. With holistic therapeutic modalities, I’m healing. The only time the police were called was for me to escape. I had told my abuser I was leaving. He held me hostage in a hotel room for a couple of hours to keep me from leaving. I was able to get out once the police arrived. A year and half after my escape, I called to look into pressing charges. The police had never written a report. There was only documentation of the phone call and the time they arrived and left. They told me to file my own report, which at the time of the incident I didn't know about. So, I filed my report. When I spoke to an investigator, he questioned me on why I was looking at filing charges over a year later. I told him that I had dealt with intense trauma where I couldn't even eat and bathe without being told to do so. He said that it was too late, I. didn't have enough evidence, and it would go no where. And when I called back to at least get the report I filed, the woman was dismissive. And they had NO REPORT. Why would I go through a system that enables, ridicules, and disempowers victims? I am still healing and getting back on my feet, and because of this treatment from the very department that is suppose to have my back, I have decided to put it to bed. For now, my focus is on speaking up and helping other survivors.

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.

I met my ex at a time in my life when I was incredibly vulnerable. I was processing a lot emotionally and I had uprooted my life and moved home. I wasn't making much money, living with my parents and really trying to figure out my next steps but faltering. Reeling from a significant romantic rejection, I was dating in a desperate way. I just wanted to find my person, have companionship, enjoy all the benefits of having a partner. And so when I met my ex, I projected all my desires for stability on to our relationship extremely quickly. We were talking about getting engaged (in a year) after only knowing each other one month. We moved in together after six months of dating. In a normal healthy relationship this wouldn't necessarily be an issue. But I had ignored a lot of red flags up to that point. He baselessly accused me of cheating on him, once when I was sexually assaulted in a bar he asked me what I did to make the person touch me, he made derogatory comments about what I wore, he ingratiated himself with my family. I had told him on our first date that I didn't want children, something that I do out of respect for people's desires and time. Months into our relationship he brought up (while drunk and angrily) that he wanted children but was giving that up to be with me. Shortly after we moved in together I had a slew of weddings for family and friends, all of which he attended. At the first I was the maid of honor. He got overly drunk at the rehearsal dinner and picked a fight with me after. He stormed out of a room full of people because I had walked away from him (to avoid standing near the door and blocking traffic) and it set him off. He yelled at me for thirty minutes about how inconsiderate I am and all the other reasons we weren't compatible. The next weekend was my sister's wedding. I couldn't go with him to pick up a suit before the rehearsal dinner and this set him off again. He drank too much and berated me later. This time for not having been as physically affectionate in the week between the weddings. I told him it was because I was scared of him, which he then yelled at me about further. I cuddled with him to fall asleep so he would calm down, it felt like diffusing a bomb. The final wedding was the worst. Same formula. Something small set him off, he drank too much and then broke up with me and tried to leave the wedding but couldn't get an Uber. When I tried to hold him accountable the next day he said we were both drunk so it wasn't anyone's fault. For the months that followed I dealt with endless scrutiny. I went into an office for work and he worked remotely. He would smell my clothes when I came home, ask why I was wearing lipgloss, or backhandedly tell me I looked nice. He was heavy handed about money. Times when I would ask him not to pay for something or say that I had it covered he would intervene behind my back. He spent hundreds of dollars on a birthday gift for my dad that my whole family had wanted to purchase even after I asked him not to. Money was a source of control and self-worth for him and even when I could contribute it wasn't enough or if I said I planned to buy something (our meals for my parents anniversary dinner) he would find a way to try and undermine me and pay for it himself. I was both somehow financially insufficient and then in the rare times I could pay for something for us, too financially independent for his liking. We got a dog only a few months into living together. He had put his dog down the previous year and was itching for another one. She is a sweetheart and I enjoyed raising her for the few months I did. The first time we trimmed her nails we accidentally cut one too short and she started bleeding so she was understandably hesitant of nail trimmings going forward. One night we decided to get her nails trimmed. I held her and my ex was trimming her nails and cut one too short. She started wriggling as he attempted to trim the rest but couldn't because she was so impatient. He became irate and threw the nail trimmer across the room. He stood up and while I was still holding her on the ground, wound up and hit her. I was completely frozen. I used to think that I should've moved in his way so that he hit me instead. I thought it would make him realize how bad his temper was but I know now I probably would've just sped up his timeline. A couple of weeks before we broke up we were having another bout of a recurring fight which centered around him finding it laborious and monotonous to be physically intimate with me. As I tried to express to him that it was hurtful for him to tell that it would start "getting old" to be intimate with me, he just became more angry. He had also drank a decent amount that night. He packed a bag and said he needed to stay at his parents' for the night. His exact words were "When I'm angry I do things I regret and I don't want to do something I'll regret". It took me a while to accept that from the throwing of things, the time I came home to a whole in the wall, the slamming of doors so hard that pictures came off the wall, and hitting the dog that when he said this he meant hitting me. Even for the first little bit after we broke up I maintained that he never would have hurt me and I was just a victim of emotional abuse. With more time and therapy I now know that I got out with very little time left to spare. My emotional and psychological safety were long gone and my physical safety was hanging by a thread. I'm now over a year out from our break-up. The first therapy session I had after our breakup I said to my therapist that I didn't want to put myself in a situation like that ever again. My therapist responded "you didn't put yourself in that situation, he did all of that to you and you survived it". I think because I wasn't showing up well at that point in my life it makes me feel like if I was stronger--emotionally, financially, personally--I wouldn't have been susceptible to this. I hold a lot of guilt and shame for being in such a vulnerable place in life that all of that happened to me. If I hadn't moved home, if I'd been making more money, if I hadn't moved in with him at six months, if I had left the million different times he showed a red flag maybe I wouldn't have the mental scars and trauma. And though that thought process is hard to shake I know at the end of the day, I didn't deserve any of the abuse I dealt with. What makes me the most angry about all of it is the innocence I lost. I never would have considered in my mid-late twenties I'd consider myself innocent. But the unburdened and carefree way I was able to think about dating before this is something I miss. There's a level of optimism I'll never get back. I used to think the worst thing that could happen to me while dating was someone being apathetic or incompatible, not intentionally violent. With a lot of therapy and time I am starting to regain my light and open heart. But the vivid memories will always be there, though hopefully they will fade. Although I'm indelibly changed, I won't let this rob me of my ability to see the good in people. I'm still deserving and capable of finding love, I have hope for that.

Hello, Name, and I am a domestic violence survivor reaching out in hopes of sharing my story to raise awareness and help protect other women and children. After enduring severe domestic violence, and my kids and I being kidnapped ..  I finally saw justice when the defendant in my case was found guilty and sentenced to 60 years in prison. While that conviction brought accountability, it did not end the impact of the abuse on my life or on my children’s lives. The violence we survived changed everything. My children witnessed trauma no child should ever experience, and we were forced to leave our home and everything familiar to start over in order to stay safe. The aftermath of abuse has affected our emotional well-being, stability, and ability to rebuild a sense of normalcy. I am sharing my story not for sympathy, but to bring awareness to the realities of domestic violence—especially how it affects children long after the court cases end. Survivors often escape with nothing, and rebuilding requires support, safety, and resources. Link If you are interested, I am willing to speak openly and honestly about what we endured, the legal process, and what life looks like after survival. My hope is that by telling our story, we can help save lives and bring awareness to the importance of protecting women and children. Thank you for your time and for the work you do in bringing important stories to light. Link Sincerely, NamecontactDomestic Violence Survivor