Community

Sort by

  • Curated

  • Newest

Format

  • Narrative

  • Artwork

Welcome to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth.

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

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

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

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

  • Report

  • Healing is not linear. It is different for everyone. It is important that we stay patient with ourselves when setbacks occur in our process. Forgive yourself for everything that may go wrong along the way.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Who's The Problem?

    My husband and I met online in 2004. He was an actor and we began chatting on one of his movie's IMDb boards. In 2006, he flew to Tennessee from California to meet me in my hometown, and after a year together, we moved to Los Angeles. He'd grown up here; I'd never been west of the Rockies. Once settled in LA, we had a tumultuous relationship, caused partly by having very little money (an understandable conflict in a partnership). But the main cause of trouble for us were his family and friends, and he rarely defended me to or protected me from them - an unforgiveable conflict in a partnership. Most of them decided right away that they didn't like me for reasons like my anaphylactic peanut allergy preventing him and me from attending the family Thanksgiving because they insisted on deep-frying the turkey in peanut oil. His mother and siblings didn't like me because I wouldn't answer the door if they dropped by unannounced, and because I asked them not to call either of us past 10pm. A lot of his friends didn't like me because I would come home from working all day and get upset that my unemployed boyfriend and his friends were sprawled out on the couch playing video games, and I eventually put a stop to those visits. A very vocal and cruel critic of mine was one of his ex-girlfriends, who had sent naked pictures of herself to him as a "Christmas present" the first year he and I were together. After I innocently found them (we shared passwords/accounts), I questioned why he needed to keep her as a friend, as "friendship" didn't appear to be what she wanted from him. She blasted me as insecure, possessive, controlling, and immature, and for the duration of our entire relationship, she would badmouth me and try to convince him to break up with me - even after we were married. Those are only a few examples of my setting boundaries and the people in my husband's life trampling all over them and then making me seem like I unreasonable, unstable, and undeserving of being with him. We married in 2016. The aforementioned ex-girlfriend begged him not to marry me, one of his siblings refused to attend the wedding because he didn't like me, and five days before my wedding - which was on my parents' 50th wedding anniversary - his mother sent my mother a long letter detailing all the things she didn't like about me. Despite the attempted interferences, we had a beautiful wedding and about two happy years of marriage. The awful treatment of me continued, but I felt I had won: he married me, and I deserved the happiness I was enjoying. In March 2018, during an argument about how sick I was of how his family and friends treated me, he headbutted me. It truly came out of nowhere. He had never been violent in any way before, and whilst we were exchanging angry words - not even yelling - he simply walked over, grabbed my shoulders, and headbutted me, twice. I immediately developed two black eyes and a bump on my forehead. I was devastated, but I didn't tell anyone. We didn't speak about the incident after that night. In August 2018, we were having a heated conversation whilst eating dinner. I don't even remember what we were talking about. But he stood up, walked around the table, grabbed my shoulders, and headbutted me again. This time I had black eyes, a bump, and a gash above my nose. After this incident, I started seeing a therapist, but I didn't want to tell him about the violent incidents because I was concerned that he'd have to report it, and my husband might get arrested. Instead, I unloaded all the frustration about the horrible treatment I received from his family and friends. I also nurtured two of my own friendships I'd had for awhile, with a woman and a man (who didn't know each other). I told them, separately, about the violent incidents. The woman immediately told me about an act of violence (shoving) she experienced with her fiancé, and offered no additional support. The man encouraged me to leave my husband. I also told my parents about the violence, and they did not believe me. In August 2019, my husband slapped and strangled me. I went to urgent care to be treated for the strangulation, and the nurses called the police. My husband wasn't arrested, but he was sent to court due to the police report the urgent care initiated. I decided that I was afraid to live with him, and asked him to move out. My male friend helped me with rent money so I could afford to live on my own. My husband told his friends and family that I'd been having an affair for months, possibly years, which was not true. They believed him, and they believed that they'd been right about me all along - that I was unreasonable, unstable, and undeserving of being with him. His mouthy ex-girlfriend is a psychologist, and she convinced my husband that I have narcissistic personality disorder and that he is the victim. I went to court on his behalf to prevent him from going to jail, though he did need to complete anger courses and pay fines. His family is trying to help him get his record expunged, because they don't think he deserves to have this follow him for the rest of his life. I, however, have to carry the memories of harassment, cruelty, violence, and devastation for the rest of MY life. My therapists in the years since have not diagnosed me with a personality disorder. Rather, I have been diagnosed with PTSD from what one of them called "a lifetime of abuse". I was abused for years by my husband's mother, siblings, ex-girlfriends, friends, and finally by my husband himself. They're right about one thing: I didn't deserve him. I deserved so much better.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇯🇵

    What was my father?

    I feel anger toward my father. To me, my father is a monster. He's bound by patriarchy. He's been a very problematic person since I was a child. He was verbally and physically abusive toward my mother. He had a big attitude at home. He put on a good face. My father moved around a lot due to his job, but I ended up skipping school. I was sexually assaulted in high school and went to a mental health clinic, which led to him calling me weird. I loved creating, but he said that was weird too. My older sister was also a victim of my father, but she was always smiling, no matter what my father did to her. He was emotionally attached to her. He was like a lover or a mother to me. I was rebellious, so he ignored me. My father used me and sexually harassed me (he did the same to me), and even when I told others, I was only victimized. He sometimes spoke as if he were some kind of great person. He was abusive toward my mother. Weird women give birth to weird children. Women become weird when they get their period. I myself wondered why I created art, and at times considered getting tested for Asperger's syndrome. I quit, but... My older sister was exploited by another man, married him, and committed suicide on their wedding anniversary. As my father gets older, I feel nothing but anger toward him, and in Japan, there's a culture that makes it seem like we have to take care of our fathers. My father deserved it, and I want him to take his sins to the afterlife, but unfortunately, he has surprisingly not changed his behavioral principles. Perpetrators never change. My mother's cognitive function is declining slightly. I may be the one who survives in the end, even though I'm the only one who's completely devastated. I'm wondering whether I should be present at his end or go to his funeral, but at this stage, I don't have any plans to be present or go to the funeral. I also have some memory loss about where my father's hometown is. On exhausted nights, I sometimes wish I could die. My doctor recommended that I publish my creative work. I'm considering my interests (Western music, etc.), the fact that I've earned a certain number of credits from a correspondence university, and the fact that I took the Eiken exam a long time ago. Taking these factors into account, I'm pondering how I want to live the rest of my life. Part of me is social anxiety, so I'm a recluse. Is my life worth living? There is still no answer.

  • Report

  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I find my hope in my children and my happiness now that I am free of him.

  • Report

  • “You are not broken; you are not disgusting or unworthy; you are not unlovable; you are wonderful, strong, and worthy.”

    Taking ‘time for yourself’ does not always mean spending the day at the spa. Mental health may also mean it is ok to set boundaries, to recognize your emotions, to prioritize sleep, to find peace in being still. I hope you take time for yourself today, in the way you need it most.

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇦🇷

    I do not consider myself completely healed yet. Healing, for me, is not a moment where everything that happened disappears or where the pain no longer exists. I am still living through the aftermath of years of abuse. I am still fighting for my children. I am still navigating the legal process that stands between us and the safe future I am working toward. I am still learning how to live with the effects of trauma and PTSD. But my understanding of healing has changed. I no longer believe healing means that I will never hurt again. I believe healing means that, even while I carry wounds, I continue moving forward. My faith has been a major part of that journey. As a Christian, I believe that God was with me even in the moments when I felt completely alone. There were times when I felt abandoned, when I did not understand why I was going through so much, and when I questioned how I could keep going. But looking back, I can see moments where I was given strength when I did not think I had any left. My healing has not been about pretending the pain did not happen. It has been about trusting that my story does not end with what was done to me. I believe God gave me the strength to protect my children, to keep fighting, and to continue standing when I felt like I was broken. I believe that my life still has purpose, and that the years I spent surviving do not define the rest of my story. Healing has meant learning that I am worthy of love, respect, and safety. It has meant allowing myself to accept help after years of believing I had to carry everything alone. It has meant rebuilding my confidence, rediscovering who I am, and understanding that I am not only a survivor of what happened—I am also a mother, a woman, a daughter, and a person with a future. I am still healing. I am still fighting. I am still learning. But I am not the same person I was when I was trapped in fear. My faith reminds me that God can bring beauty from broken places. It reminds me that suffering is not the end of the story. It reminds me that even in the hardest seasons, I am not walking alone. To me, healing is not forgetting the past. Healing is allowing God to use my story for something greater. Healing is choosing hope even while I am still in the middle of the battle. Healing is believing that what was meant to destroy me will not have the final word.

  • Report

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    It Ends With Me❤️

    After seeing 'It Ends With Us', I felt I wanted to share my story. I saw this movie alone for the first watch, brought my Atlas to the second, and my bestfriend to the third. Watching it left me feeling empowered to anonymously share my story of abuse and violence. The film and the book brought back so many raw emotions, ones that I still struggle with today. My story started when I was 16 years old and I was with my first 'love', everything was OK in the beginning - but suddenly everything changed. I was constantly told how worthless I was, I got pushed down his stairs - but I wouldn't leave - and I didn't know why. He was controlling and did not like other people talking to me, going to extreme lengths to stop this from happening, and making sure my friends did not see me - people who he saw as a threat. I ended up in the hospital because of him, where he broke my hand. He got that mad at me once, we were in his car and just before I could shut the door and put on my seat belt, he started driving recklessly to scare me. What scared me more was when I was sleeping and I felt his hands around my throat - with no explanation. There were many times that I would say stop and he would carry on because he told me he was in control. I had cigarettes put out on me -multiple times, and was told that I was disgusting and looked like a sl*t, even telling me I was 'fat' - which led to further health issues. When I ended up with a bruise, my friend who is now my Atlas noticed - we worked together. I confined in him, and he was the first person to properly listen to me, and let me share my experiences. Throughout all this, it brought me overwhelming anxiety and depression and even the lengths of having to have therapy because to me it was a nightmare even when it was over, and reported multiple times. My parents never understood, asking me why I didn't just leave, telling me I must've wanted it to carry on. I didn't. I'm nearly 10 years later now, with my Atlas of 5 years, feeling happier and in a better place physically and mentally - I'm still healing. This movie brought me to tears and I related so much to Lily Bloom - some of it felt like my experiences - but the film also brought me a type of feeling of freedom and happiness. Thank you for letting me share my story. ❤️

  • Report

  • “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇩🇰

    What he did, but she didn’t

    Feel guilty for being so affected by something that is no where near the horrible stories other people have shared. I wasn’t raped or beaten but my experience with a classmate that went to far, has shaped my life in a way I wish I could change, but don’t feel strong or courageous enough to do so. My story begins in 10th grade where my drama class (of 40 or 45 students and 3 teachers) was on our way to a trip from Location to Location 2by bus. My first mistake was to sit at the back of the bus because I thought it would be the quietest place on the bus, my second mistake was to take the window seat… At first most students in the back was high on red bull but when they crashed the whole bus got quiet and only 4/5 students was awake, one of them was the biggest and tallest guy at school, he sat down next to me and started talking about random stuff, I didn’t talk much cause I was afraid that some would wake up and be angry with me(I was never the popular kid at school, so I never wanted to step on anyone’s toes) I was extremely tired myself so I was just trying to stay awake to be polite and answered his questions. After a while he’s hand started to slowly move on to my lap, I pushed him off several times and asked him to stop because I really wanted to sleep, but he keep going and it just worsened for every time I pushed him off, he started be move his hands further up under my shirt and further down my pants. I was terrified to speak up because I knew no one would believe me if I said something. I was afraid that if the teachers found out about it, that they would blame me (of all the other girls on the buss why would he touch me?) . As I was trying to push I’m off, I got eye contact with a female classmate a few seats behind me on the other side of the buss, (she was one of hi’s really good friends) i tried to signal to her that I wasn’t comfortable with what he was doing, but she just lifted her hands and shoulders like she was saying ”what do you want me to do about it” And I just remember feeling like my whole body froze to ice after that. I don’t know for how long this whole episode lasted but it felt like an eternity, I couldn’t move, and couldn’t say anything, and that person who could have said something didn’t. I honestly don’t know what was worse, what he did or what she didn’t, I’ve never felt so violated or betrayed. That experience really affected me in a way that makes it really hard to trust other people, I have a hard time believing others, I have never had a boyfriend, I’m 29 now, but the fear of anyone getting to close to me gives me bad anxiety, because if I couldn’t stop a teenager from touching me in a buss wish 40 other students and 3 teachers, how could I ever stop an adult man if we are alone behind closed doors? I know not all men are like him, but i am just scared that if happens again that it won’t “just” be forceful touching but worse. And I think that, that’s what’s keeping me from the future that I otherwise would have loved to have. I wish I knew what it would fell like to get a kiss on the forehead, to hold someone hand or just the feeling of being safe with someone. I no longer use public transportation, but when I do have to get on a plane I always make sure to get the aisle seat, so that I can get away if someone gets too close. If you’ve read this far, I thank you for taking time to listening to my story, I’ve never talked about it before, I guess it’s much easier to tell complete strangers than some I know (for the fear of being judged) I want to heal that old wound but don’t quite know how to do so, I guess telling my story is the first step.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    When it goes to far

    I grew up in the region, on a dairy farm. Life was not as it could have been. There was no love just physical abuse from my Dad and emotional abuse from my mom. I had 4 sisters, two are beautiful, the other two manipulative, narcissistic, and cruel. I call them “The Uglies”. They have done so many horrible things to my beautiful sisters and myself over the years it’s disgusting. I have asked The Uglies to leave me alone throughout my life and they have overstepped my boundaries, police officers warnings, a Judges warning and the Attorney General’s. Now on to the current situation they have created. My mom passed away recently and left her 13 great grandchildren a few thousand dollars each. Now it’s important at this point to know that we quietly left our state, because of all the harassment they caused us. I have had no contact with these people for years. So they try to reach us to give my three grandchildren their inheritance. The beautiful’s call me with this wonderful news but the uglies want our address. They try to get the money for us to forward, they won’t have it. So my daughter gives them her work address. The money gets distributed but my grandchildren don’t receive theirs! It was illegally put into accounts for them by one of the uglies husbands, IN HIS NAME as primary. We then received a registered letter saying it wasn’t mandatory that our grandchildren receive it. Well this ones Husband is the former Mayor of the small town this happened in and he knew about it. This is called “Malicious Intent.” Two of my grandchildren are disabled, which takes the crimes they committed doing this from a misdemeanor to a felony. All the other ten grandchildren received their money!!! One of the beautiful’s asked for a copy of-the distribution document, she was refused. One of the uglies couldn’t have children, the other one has 5 grandchildren. The beautiful’s and I believe that their grandchildren received more funds then they should have, or why not disclose the document??? So now one of the beautiful’s have sent my grandchildren the inheritance they were legally to receive and the uglies and their husbands are facing felony charges with what they have done. Why? Why do this to children? Their Grandmother left them a very kind gesture to show she loved and cared. Then these arrogant, ignorant, manipulative, narcissistic psychopaths think it’s funny to do this!!! So like a politician though right, stealing from the poor!!!

  • Report

  • “You are the author of your own story. Your story is yours and yours alone despite your experiences.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    For those who’s voices have been silenced

    I was in an abusive relationship for two years. I was embarrassed and never told anyone. I did not want anyone to know what was happening to me, because why would I let that happen to myself? Why did I let it get this bad? I saw the red flags, and I ignored them. I thought he could change. He promised me every time he put his hands on me, that it was the last time. Until his hands moved around my neck, or when he threw me down stairs, or would burn me with his lighter, etc. it never got better. He never got better. He showed me his true colors and my rose colored glasses were shattered. I was already in too deep, and it thought it was too late for me. He wouldn’t let me leave. I tried twice before and he strangled me, and he told me I would not leave his house unless I was in a body bag. I lived in fear every single day. I prayed every night for God just to take my life so I could get an escape from the hell I was in. I struggled everyday with my mental health. I tried to kill my self multiple times, and would honestly fantasize about it, but I kept fighting. I thankfully, told some friends about my situation at work and came up with a code with them, for when things got bad I could hopefully reach them in time. I remember the day I left vividly. I remember him punching me in my face. He held me down and choked me until I could not scream anymore. He kept repeating in my ears. I will kill you. You’re not leaving me. I had texted my friends prior. I was able to eventually get him off and he fell asleep. And I ran. I knew in that moment it was truly now or never. I went outside and started to run to my car. Two police officers were waiting for me outside. Everyday I am so thankful they were there in that moment. I turned away and he was right there. If they had not been there in that exact moment, I know I would have never left that house. Everyday has been a struggle. It’s been almost three years and sometimes I still have nightmares about that day or just being stuck in that house. I have moved states. I got married to the love of my life. Someone who truly loves me and would never raise their voice at me, let alone a hand. I am expecting my first child in January. I am so thankful everyday that I held on and kept fighting. I know it’s hard and sometimes there is truly no light that you can see yourself, but keep holding on and keep fighting. You are worth so much more and I promise it does get better. I’m so proud of you.

  • Report

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    911

    When I was 19 was introduced to a police officer (He was 35) by a mutual friend of ours. I was kind of sheltered and was intrigued by the age gap and buy his power. At first, we hit it off really well and within a couple of weeks started dating, but things went south really quickly. A month or so, he started becoming really possessive and was constantly calling asking where I was who I was with etc. within a month or so of the possessive behavior starting, he introduced me to drugs whenever I was around here, he would make sure that I was so high that I couldn’t say no. He raped me multiple times. I tried to report him to the police station that he worked at, but I could not get anybody to believe me. All they said was that I was just a drug addict and I was seeking attention. Shortly after he started to sex traffic me out to his friends, some of whom were in the police force. during this time we also started going to strip clubs where he would also pimp me out to the men at the strip club. This went on for almost a year until one night at the strip club. I tried to run and get free. Him and his friend caught me and forced me into the trunk of his car where I was driven around and eventually brought back to his home where he held me captive for over two weeks. I eventually escaped and never looked back, but that is not where my nightmare ended. For over a year he stalked me. I had to move five times in the span of a year and a half and every time he found me, he broke into my home multiple times, including several times in the night where he held a gun to my head and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. The last straw was when he called me and told me that he had given me aids. He did not I think he was just trying to scare me into coming back to him which I did not and I guess he got bored with the game and left me alone. For many years after he would try to call me a couple of times a year under a private number I never answered, and I ran into him more times than I can count as he lived in the same area that I did. He was never prosecuted because I could never get anyone to believe me. This happened 19 years ago and I am still living with PTSD and nightmares.

  • Report

  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Healing means finding empowerment.

  • Report

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

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Healing is acceptance, forgiveness and being able tomove forward

  • Report

  • Welcome to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth.

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

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

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

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

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Who's The Problem?

    My husband and I met online in 2004. He was an actor and we began chatting on one of his movie's IMDb boards. In 2006, he flew to Tennessee from California to meet me in my hometown, and after a year together, we moved to Los Angeles. He'd grown up here; I'd never been west of the Rockies. Once settled in LA, we had a tumultuous relationship, caused partly by having very little money (an understandable conflict in a partnership). But the main cause of trouble for us were his family and friends, and he rarely defended me to or protected me from them - an unforgiveable conflict in a partnership. Most of them decided right away that they didn't like me for reasons like my anaphylactic peanut allergy preventing him and me from attending the family Thanksgiving because they insisted on deep-frying the turkey in peanut oil. His mother and siblings didn't like me because I wouldn't answer the door if they dropped by unannounced, and because I asked them not to call either of us past 10pm. A lot of his friends didn't like me because I would come home from working all day and get upset that my unemployed boyfriend and his friends were sprawled out on the couch playing video games, and I eventually put a stop to those visits. A very vocal and cruel critic of mine was one of his ex-girlfriends, who had sent naked pictures of herself to him as a "Christmas present" the first year he and I were together. After I innocently found them (we shared passwords/accounts), I questioned why he needed to keep her as a friend, as "friendship" didn't appear to be what she wanted from him. She blasted me as insecure, possessive, controlling, and immature, and for the duration of our entire relationship, she would badmouth me and try to convince him to break up with me - even after we were married. Those are only a few examples of my setting boundaries and the people in my husband's life trampling all over them and then making me seem like I unreasonable, unstable, and undeserving of being with him. We married in 2016. The aforementioned ex-girlfriend begged him not to marry me, one of his siblings refused to attend the wedding because he didn't like me, and five days before my wedding - which was on my parents' 50th wedding anniversary - his mother sent my mother a long letter detailing all the things she didn't like about me. Despite the attempted interferences, we had a beautiful wedding and about two happy years of marriage. The awful treatment of me continued, but I felt I had won: he married me, and I deserved the happiness I was enjoying. In March 2018, during an argument about how sick I was of how his family and friends treated me, he headbutted me. It truly came out of nowhere. He had never been violent in any way before, and whilst we were exchanging angry words - not even yelling - he simply walked over, grabbed my shoulders, and headbutted me, twice. I immediately developed two black eyes and a bump on my forehead. I was devastated, but I didn't tell anyone. We didn't speak about the incident after that night. In August 2018, we were having a heated conversation whilst eating dinner. I don't even remember what we were talking about. But he stood up, walked around the table, grabbed my shoulders, and headbutted me again. This time I had black eyes, a bump, and a gash above my nose. After this incident, I started seeing a therapist, but I didn't want to tell him about the violent incidents because I was concerned that he'd have to report it, and my husband might get arrested. Instead, I unloaded all the frustration about the horrible treatment I received from his family and friends. I also nurtured two of my own friendships I'd had for awhile, with a woman and a man (who didn't know each other). I told them, separately, about the violent incidents. The woman immediately told me about an act of violence (shoving) she experienced with her fiancé, and offered no additional support. The man encouraged me to leave my husband. I also told my parents about the violence, and they did not believe me. In August 2019, my husband slapped and strangled me. I went to urgent care to be treated for the strangulation, and the nurses called the police. My husband wasn't arrested, but he was sent to court due to the police report the urgent care initiated. I decided that I was afraid to live with him, and asked him to move out. My male friend helped me with rent money so I could afford to live on my own. My husband told his friends and family that I'd been having an affair for months, possibly years, which was not true. They believed him, and they believed that they'd been right about me all along - that I was unreasonable, unstable, and undeserving of being with him. His mouthy ex-girlfriend is a psychologist, and she convinced my husband that I have narcissistic personality disorder and that he is the victim. I went to court on his behalf to prevent him from going to jail, though he did need to complete anger courses and pay fines. His family is trying to help him get his record expunged, because they don't think he deserves to have this follow him for the rest of his life. I, however, have to carry the memories of harassment, cruelty, violence, and devastation for the rest of MY life. My therapists in the years since have not diagnosed me with a personality disorder. Rather, I have been diagnosed with PTSD from what one of them called "a lifetime of abuse". I was abused for years by my husband's mother, siblings, ex-girlfriends, friends, and finally by my husband himself. They're right about one thing: I didn't deserve him. I deserved so much better.

  • Report

  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I find my hope in my children and my happiness now that I am free of him.

  • Report

  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇦🇷

    I do not consider myself completely healed yet. Healing, for me, is not a moment where everything that happened disappears or where the pain no longer exists. I am still living through the aftermath of years of abuse. I am still fighting for my children. I am still navigating the legal process that stands between us and the safe future I am working toward. I am still learning how to live with the effects of trauma and PTSD. But my understanding of healing has changed. I no longer believe healing means that I will never hurt again. I believe healing means that, even while I carry wounds, I continue moving forward. My faith has been a major part of that journey. As a Christian, I believe that God was with me even in the moments when I felt completely alone. There were times when I felt abandoned, when I did not understand why I was going through so much, and when I questioned how I could keep going. But looking back, I can see moments where I was given strength when I did not think I had any left. My healing has not been about pretending the pain did not happen. It has been about trusting that my story does not end with what was done to me. I believe God gave me the strength to protect my children, to keep fighting, and to continue standing when I felt like I was broken. I believe that my life still has purpose, and that the years I spent surviving do not define the rest of my story. Healing has meant learning that I am worthy of love, respect, and safety. It has meant allowing myself to accept help after years of believing I had to carry everything alone. It has meant rebuilding my confidence, rediscovering who I am, and understanding that I am not only a survivor of what happened—I am also a mother, a woman, a daughter, and a person with a future. I am still healing. I am still fighting. I am still learning. But I am not the same person I was when I was trapped in fear. My faith reminds me that God can bring beauty from broken places. It reminds me that suffering is not the end of the story. It reminds me that even in the hardest seasons, I am not walking alone. To me, healing is not forgetting the past. Healing is allowing God to use my story for something greater. Healing is choosing hope even while I am still in the middle of the battle. Healing is believing that what was meant to destroy me will not have the final word.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇩🇰

    What he did, but she didn’t

    Feel guilty for being so affected by something that is no where near the horrible stories other people have shared. I wasn’t raped or beaten but my experience with a classmate that went to far, has shaped my life in a way I wish I could change, but don’t feel strong or courageous enough to do so. My story begins in 10th grade where my drama class (of 40 or 45 students and 3 teachers) was on our way to a trip from Location to Location 2by bus. My first mistake was to sit at the back of the bus because I thought it would be the quietest place on the bus, my second mistake was to take the window seat… At first most students in the back was high on red bull but when they crashed the whole bus got quiet and only 4/5 students was awake, one of them was the biggest and tallest guy at school, he sat down next to me and started talking about random stuff, I didn’t talk much cause I was afraid that some would wake up and be angry with me(I was never the popular kid at school, so I never wanted to step on anyone’s toes) I was extremely tired myself so I was just trying to stay awake to be polite and answered his questions. After a while he’s hand started to slowly move on to my lap, I pushed him off several times and asked him to stop because I really wanted to sleep, but he keep going and it just worsened for every time I pushed him off, he started be move his hands further up under my shirt and further down my pants. I was terrified to speak up because I knew no one would believe me if I said something. I was afraid that if the teachers found out about it, that they would blame me (of all the other girls on the buss why would he touch me?) . As I was trying to push I’m off, I got eye contact with a female classmate a few seats behind me on the other side of the buss, (she was one of hi’s really good friends) i tried to signal to her that I wasn’t comfortable with what he was doing, but she just lifted her hands and shoulders like she was saying ”what do you want me to do about it” And I just remember feeling like my whole body froze to ice after that. I don’t know for how long this whole episode lasted but it felt like an eternity, I couldn’t move, and couldn’t say anything, and that person who could have said something didn’t. I honestly don’t know what was worse, what he did or what she didn’t, I’ve never felt so violated or betrayed. That experience really affected me in a way that makes it really hard to trust other people, I have a hard time believing others, I have never had a boyfriend, I’m 29 now, but the fear of anyone getting to close to me gives me bad anxiety, because if I couldn’t stop a teenager from touching me in a buss wish 40 other students and 3 teachers, how could I ever stop an adult man if we are alone behind closed doors? I know not all men are like him, but i am just scared that if happens again that it won’t “just” be forceful touching but worse. And I think that, that’s what’s keeping me from the future that I otherwise would have loved to have. I wish I knew what it would fell like to get a kiss on the forehead, to hold someone hand or just the feeling of being safe with someone. I no longer use public transportation, but when I do have to get on a plane I always make sure to get the aisle seat, so that I can get away if someone gets too close. If you’ve read this far, I thank you for taking time to listening to my story, I’ve never talked about it before, I guess it’s much easier to tell complete strangers than some I know (for the fear of being judged) I want to heal that old wound but don’t quite know how to do so, I guess telling my story is the first step.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    911

    When I was 19 was introduced to a police officer (He was 35) by a mutual friend of ours. I was kind of sheltered and was intrigued by the age gap and buy his power. At first, we hit it off really well and within a couple of weeks started dating, but things went south really quickly. A month or so, he started becoming really possessive and was constantly calling asking where I was who I was with etc. within a month or so of the possessive behavior starting, he introduced me to drugs whenever I was around here, he would make sure that I was so high that I couldn’t say no. He raped me multiple times. I tried to report him to the police station that he worked at, but I could not get anybody to believe me. All they said was that I was just a drug addict and I was seeking attention. Shortly after he started to sex traffic me out to his friends, some of whom were in the police force. during this time we also started going to strip clubs where he would also pimp me out to the men at the strip club. This went on for almost a year until one night at the strip club. I tried to run and get free. Him and his friend caught me and forced me into the trunk of his car where I was driven around and eventually brought back to his home where he held me captive for over two weeks. I eventually escaped and never looked back, but that is not where my nightmare ended. For over a year he stalked me. I had to move five times in the span of a year and a half and every time he found me, he broke into my home multiple times, including several times in the night where he held a gun to my head and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. The last straw was when he called me and told me that he had given me aids. He did not I think he was just trying to scare me into coming back to him which I did not and I guess he got bored with the game and left me alone. For many years after he would try to call me a couple of times a year under a private number I never answered, and I ran into him more times than I can count as he lived in the same area that I did. He was never prosecuted because I could never get anyone to believe me. This happened 19 years ago and I am still living with PTSD and nightmares.

  • Report

  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Healing is acceptance, forgiveness and being able tomove forward

  • Report

  • Healing is not linear. It is different for everyone. It is important that we stay patient with ourselves when setbacks occur in our process. Forgive yourself for everything that may go wrong along the way.

    “You are not broken; you are not disgusting or unworthy; you are not unlovable; you are wonderful, strong, and worthy.”

    Taking ‘time for yourself’ does not always mean spending the day at the spa. Mental health may also mean it is ok to set boundaries, to recognize your emotions, to prioritize sleep, to find peace in being still. I hope you take time for yourself today, in the way you need it most.

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

    “I have learned to abound in the joy of the small things...and God, the kindness of people. Strangers, teachers, friends. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it, but there is good in the world, and this gives me hope too.”

    “You are the author of your own story. Your story is yours and yours alone despite your experiences.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    For those who’s voices have been silenced

    I was in an abusive relationship for two years. I was embarrassed and never told anyone. I did not want anyone to know what was happening to me, because why would I let that happen to myself? Why did I let it get this bad? I saw the red flags, and I ignored them. I thought he could change. He promised me every time he put his hands on me, that it was the last time. Until his hands moved around my neck, or when he threw me down stairs, or would burn me with his lighter, etc. it never got better. He never got better. He showed me his true colors and my rose colored glasses were shattered. I was already in too deep, and it thought it was too late for me. He wouldn’t let me leave. I tried twice before and he strangled me, and he told me I would not leave his house unless I was in a body bag. I lived in fear every single day. I prayed every night for God just to take my life so I could get an escape from the hell I was in. I struggled everyday with my mental health. I tried to kill my self multiple times, and would honestly fantasize about it, but I kept fighting. I thankfully, told some friends about my situation at work and came up with a code with them, for when things got bad I could hopefully reach them in time. I remember the day I left vividly. I remember him punching me in my face. He held me down and choked me until I could not scream anymore. He kept repeating in my ears. I will kill you. You’re not leaving me. I had texted my friends prior. I was able to eventually get him off and he fell asleep. And I ran. I knew in that moment it was truly now or never. I went outside and started to run to my car. Two police officers were waiting for me outside. Everyday I am so thankful they were there in that moment. I turned away and he was right there. If they had not been there in that exact moment, I know I would have never left that house. Everyday has been a struggle. It’s been almost three years and sometimes I still have nightmares about that day or just being stuck in that house. I have moved states. I got married to the love of my life. Someone who truly loves me and would never raise their voice at me, let alone a hand. I am expecting my first child in January. I am so thankful everyday that I held on and kept fighting. I know it’s hard and sometimes there is truly no light that you can see yourself, but keep holding on and keep fighting. You are worth so much more and I promise it does get better. I’m so proud of you.

  • Report

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

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Healing means finding empowerment.

  • Report

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇯🇵

    What was my father?

    I feel anger toward my father. To me, my father is a monster. He's bound by patriarchy. He's been a very problematic person since I was a child. He was verbally and physically abusive toward my mother. He had a big attitude at home. He put on a good face. My father moved around a lot due to his job, but I ended up skipping school. I was sexually assaulted in high school and went to a mental health clinic, which led to him calling me weird. I loved creating, but he said that was weird too. My older sister was also a victim of my father, but she was always smiling, no matter what my father did to her. He was emotionally attached to her. He was like a lover or a mother to me. I was rebellious, so he ignored me. My father used me and sexually harassed me (he did the same to me), and even when I told others, I was only victimized. He sometimes spoke as if he were some kind of great person. He was abusive toward my mother. Weird women give birth to weird children. Women become weird when they get their period. I myself wondered why I created art, and at times considered getting tested for Asperger's syndrome. I quit, but... My older sister was exploited by another man, married him, and committed suicide on their wedding anniversary. As my father gets older, I feel nothing but anger toward him, and in Japan, there's a culture that makes it seem like we have to take care of our fathers. My father deserved it, and I want him to take his sins to the afterlife, but unfortunately, he has surprisingly not changed his behavioral principles. Perpetrators never change. My mother's cognitive function is declining slightly. I may be the one who survives in the end, even though I'm the only one who's completely devastated. I'm wondering whether I should be present at his end or go to his funeral, but at this stage, I don't have any plans to be present or go to the funeral. I also have some memory loss about where my father's hometown is. On exhausted nights, I sometimes wish I could die. My doctor recommended that I publish my creative work. I'm considering my interests (Western music, etc.), the fact that I've earned a certain number of credits from a correspondence university, and the fact that I took the Eiken exam a long time ago. Taking these factors into account, I'm pondering how I want to live the rest of my life. Part of me is social anxiety, so I'm a recluse. Is my life worth living? There is still no answer.

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    It Ends With Me❤️

    After seeing 'It Ends With Us', I felt I wanted to share my story. I saw this movie alone for the first watch, brought my Atlas to the second, and my bestfriend to the third. Watching it left me feeling empowered to anonymously share my story of abuse and violence. The film and the book brought back so many raw emotions, ones that I still struggle with today. My story started when I was 16 years old and I was with my first 'love', everything was OK in the beginning - but suddenly everything changed. I was constantly told how worthless I was, I got pushed down his stairs - but I wouldn't leave - and I didn't know why. He was controlling and did not like other people talking to me, going to extreme lengths to stop this from happening, and making sure my friends did not see me - people who he saw as a threat. I ended up in the hospital because of him, where he broke my hand. He got that mad at me once, we were in his car and just before I could shut the door and put on my seat belt, he started driving recklessly to scare me. What scared me more was when I was sleeping and I felt his hands around my throat - with no explanation. There were many times that I would say stop and he would carry on because he told me he was in control. I had cigarettes put out on me -multiple times, and was told that I was disgusting and looked like a sl*t, even telling me I was 'fat' - which led to further health issues. When I ended up with a bruise, my friend who is now my Atlas noticed - we worked together. I confined in him, and he was the first person to properly listen to me, and let me share my experiences. Throughout all this, it brought me overwhelming anxiety and depression and even the lengths of having to have therapy because to me it was a nightmare even when it was over, and reported multiple times. My parents never understood, asking me why I didn't just leave, telling me I must've wanted it to carry on. I didn't. I'm nearly 10 years later now, with my Atlas of 5 years, feeling happier and in a better place physically and mentally - I'm still healing. This movie brought me to tears and I related so much to Lily Bloom - some of it felt like my experiences - but the film also brought me a type of feeling of freedom and happiness. Thank you for letting me share my story. ❤️

  • Report

  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    When it goes to far

    I grew up in the region, on a dairy farm. Life was not as it could have been. There was no love just physical abuse from my Dad and emotional abuse from my mom. I had 4 sisters, two are beautiful, the other two manipulative, narcissistic, and cruel. I call them “The Uglies”. They have done so many horrible things to my beautiful sisters and myself over the years it’s disgusting. I have asked The Uglies to leave me alone throughout my life and they have overstepped my boundaries, police officers warnings, a Judges warning and the Attorney General’s. Now on to the current situation they have created. My mom passed away recently and left her 13 great grandchildren a few thousand dollars each. Now it’s important at this point to know that we quietly left our state, because of all the harassment they caused us. I have had no contact with these people for years. So they try to reach us to give my three grandchildren their inheritance. The beautiful’s call me with this wonderful news but the uglies want our address. They try to get the money for us to forward, they won’t have it. So my daughter gives them her work address. The money gets distributed but my grandchildren don’t receive theirs! It was illegally put into accounts for them by one of the uglies husbands, IN HIS NAME as primary. We then received a registered letter saying it wasn’t mandatory that our grandchildren receive it. Well this ones Husband is the former Mayor of the small town this happened in and he knew about it. This is called “Malicious Intent.” Two of my grandchildren are disabled, which takes the crimes they committed doing this from a misdemeanor to a felony. All the other ten grandchildren received their money!!! One of the beautiful’s asked for a copy of-the distribution document, she was refused. One of the uglies couldn’t have children, the other one has 5 grandchildren. The beautiful’s and I believe that their grandchildren received more funds then they should have, or why not disclose the document??? So now one of the beautiful’s have sent my grandchildren the inheritance they were legally to receive and the uglies and their husbands are facing felony charges with what they have done. Why? Why do this to children? Their Grandmother left them a very kind gesture to show she loved and cared. Then these arrogant, ignorant, manipulative, narcissistic psychopaths think it’s funny to do this!!! So like a politician though right, stealing from the poor!!!

  • Report

  • 0

    Users

    0

    Views

    0

    Reactions

    0

    Stories read

    Need to take a break?

    Made with in Raleigh, NC

    Read our Community Guidelines, Privacy Policy, and Terms

    Have feedback? Send it to us

    For immediate help, visit {{resource}}

    Made with in Raleigh, NC

    |

    Read our Community Guidelines, Privacy Policy, and Terms

    |

    Post a Message

    Share a message of support with the community.

    We will send you an email as soon as your message is posted, as well as send helpful resources and support.

    Please adhere to our Community Guidelines to help us keep NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth a safe space. All messages will be reviewed and identifying information removed before they are posted.

    Ask a Question

    Ask a question about survivorship or supporting survivors.

    We will send you an email as soon as your question is answered, as well as send helpful resources and support.

    How can we help?

    Tell us why you are reporting this content. Our moderation team will review your report shortly.

    Violence, hate, or exploitation

    Threats, hateful language, or sexual coercion

    Bullying or unwanted contact

    Harassment, intimidation, or persistent unwanted messages

    Scam, fraud, or impersonation

    Deceptive requests or claiming to be someone else

    False information

    Misleading claims or deliberate disinformation

    Share Feedback

    Tell us what’s working (and what isn't) so we can keep improving.

    Log in

    Enter the email you used to submit to NO MORE Silence, Speak Your Truth and we'll send you a magic link to access your profile.

    Grounding activity

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

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

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

    3 – things you can hear

    2 – things you can smell

    1 – thing you like about yourself.

    Take a deep breath to end.

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

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

    Take a deep breath to end.

    Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud:

    1. Where am I?

    2. What day of the week is today?

    3. What is today’s date?

    4. What is the current month?

    5. What is the current year?

    6. How old am I?

    7. What season is it?

    Take a deep breath to end.

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

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

    Take a deep breath to end.

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

    Take a deep breath to end.