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

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 ❤️

I have been sexually, physically and mentally abused since I was a child. My mother took my sister and I from our real father as babies and married a man who would abuse my sister and I for ten years, then divorced him because he cheated on her. This man would make my sister and I take our pants down and whip us with a leather belt. My mother would coerce him to do so, stating we deserved it because we were “bad”. All we ever heard growing up is how “bad”we were. They would send us away upstate to his cousins house for the entire summer, you know because we were so bad. His cousin, a (occupation) at (place) as well as a (occupation) would molest us and when we told them, they said we were liars, and again the bad stigmatization was embedded in our young teenage minds. This is just one abuse story, and the beginning of a long series of abuse I would endure over my lifetime. Almost every relationship, whether it romantic, platonic, or family, my trauma has touched, infected and I began to believe it must be true, I am just bad. On (date)I would be strangled twice, battered and almost die at the hands of a lover,. After months of denial and physically healing from the assault I finally had the courage to come forward and press charges. That is the day my healing journey began, after so many years of abuse I finally confronted my abuser. Now, I try to live minute to minute and some minutes are better than others, but I have grit. Resilience is my superpower! I am a survivor not a victim. I already feel better just typing this. I was looking for a safe place to release, thank you 💕

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.

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.

I was sexually assaulted at the very young age of 7 by my biological brother,I didn't really understand at the time what was happening to me and I was also being SA by my adopted dad from the ages of 7-15.i started using drugs at 16 to cope with my depression but I've been clean and sober now for 2yrs,I would love to speak out to others about this organization and hope that it helps others heal, there are other parts of my story that I had left out bc of too much detail

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.

I joined the army getting it drilled in my head and cursed at and belittled for months about INTEGRITY ARMY VALUES RESPECT all to just live with trauma and disappointment by leadership who failed me and soldiers who took advantage. From serving with two separate units, both were gut wrenching anytime I had to be present and oh did they make sure that I was. Joining the Army is my biggest disappointment and hardest anger from healing to overcome. Please pray for me.

I Say No More because there are too many of us living and struggle with our everyday lives because we are ashamed about what another person has done to us. Me for an example; my abuse was on and off throughout my childhood. The longest lasted 4 years. By me staying silent for so long, to I have PTSD, Emotional Disorder and Depression. I had to learn how to gain control of my life that I didn't know for the longest that I could. I'm taking it one step at a time. See those people may have took away my childhood but they couldn't take away my LOVE, JOY and now my PEACE away.

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

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

I am here today alive and healing after 22.5 years of physical, emotional and sexual abuse. The world does not understand, therefore they choose to judge you not understanding that it is a control game with the abuser. The abuser makes the rules, breaks the rules....it is the abuser's game. NO MORE. After throwing him out I thought I could fix myself. First let me say YOU ARE ENOUGH, YOU ARE WORTHY, YOU ARE LOVED! Don't be Silent anymore! I use to think I was alone. Have you ever heard the phrase "Look what you made me do"? He made me feel that I could fix and make it better so he would not beat me anymore. You can't fix what you did not break. I was not the issue He was. I gave up after he threatened to Kill me many times and of course when the kids came along If I did not do what he wanted he threatened to kill them. As is said here NO MORE! The Shame, Guilt you feel is because of your abuser....just like mine was. Get Out first there are people to help and protect you! He threatened to kill our daughter when I finally said ENOUGH! The last 3 years the journey has been hard after 15 years of believing I could fix myself. I get counseling for my anxiety, PTSD and Depression. Never Give Up! I learned my Husband was a liar said he loved me, that is not Love. You deserve better!!!!! Get Out, Get Help................I love you!

I saw “It ends with us” with my mom, I’m 17 and my parents got divorced a couple of years ago and I held so much resentment against her because i didn’t know why, I didn’t understand why my life was changing and why she insisted on a divorce. When Lilly said it ends with us, my mom looked at me and we started bawling in the theater. I’m my mom’s Emerson, and she’s my lily. She broke the generational curse

Hello I’m a victim of csa my name is Name my nickname is mj I got the nickname of a show so if the name is familiar you know why that is just a few facts about me here is my story the sexual abuse started as early as 2 years old by a female older cousin. Who I was supposed to trust she would rape me and sexually assault me when she babysat me as I grew older and I no longer needed a babysitter she started taking me out places and buying me gifts and then she would take me to her house and tell me that I needed to give her what she wanted cause she gave me gifts and took me out places while I was suffering from my cousins abuse I was also suffering abuse from a teacher and student along side that the first time I was sexually assaulted at school was by my science teacher he said I needed to stay in because I had not finished my school work and the first time I was assaulted by the student was at a buddy pair sport group I asked to go to the bathroom and the teacher told him to take me that was were he orally raped me at 9 years old I was raped by a male family member who was 14 years old and a couple years later I suffered from a brutal occurrence called gang rape then fast forward to this year I was raped and sexually assaulted at a concert I still have times that I doubt myself that what they did was actually rape or sexual assault but deep down I know it is and I’m getting therapy and psychological help I hope my story can help you to at-least speak up about it or know your not alone

I awoke the morning of July 5th, year in a bed I don’t remember going to sleep in, next to a person I’d never even met. When someone violates your trust and your body they become a different person to you. Almost instantaneously. I had been in his bed with him before, but I really noticed it then. The voice I heard stung my ears, his laugh made me cringe. But it wasn’t that I knew right away what happened to me, and what he did was wrong. It was the fact I thought I made a mistake I had to live with forever. I thought it was a “misunderstanding”. The fact I didn’t say yes, I said no. I closed my legs. As I got up out of that bed, I have no memory until I was in my car driving home. When we talk about the combination of trauma brain and 27 28 probably at least six drinks in my system. All I wanted was a shower, maybe that would erase all of this. Maybe it was a mistake, people regret having sex all the time, not like this. I began to have panic attacks while I was alone or when his name came up. He later became very angry at me, and humiliated me. I was forced to engage in sex against my will. My very, very, stumbling, blurry, intoxicated will. I said no, why wasn’t that enough? Why was that the first time I did that with a man? Why did it feel like my heart was broken? Because my heart was broken. Trust violated, and I didn’t know how to tell anyone what happened. The person you used to call in these situations became the reason it happened. I never thought anyone would ever believe me. I also really didn’t identify it as anything other than a mistake, ick. The next day when I came home I proceeded to take off my American Eagle brand blue Jeans, White T-Shirt, and maroon-colored American Eagle sweater. I sat in the shower for an hour. Later that fall I found those clothes in the trunk of my car, that makes me think I remember even less than I do and that fucks with me. I donated that sweater about a year ago. I should have burned it. About two weeks before it happened, you told me that you were no longer attracted to me anymore. And that's fine. We were at a party. That party was for our friend, Name (Name is a story of another time), but I was intoxicated by the time you got to the party. I think I arrived at 4, and was too drunk to drive by 5pm. When you got to the party, I drunkenly told you how much I was attracted to you, and you rejected me. You told me that you were no longer attracted to me. In those words. But why would you then do this two weeks later, if you weren’t attracted to me, why sex? 29 The following spring, I had moved into an apartment with a few strangers, and that is when the memories started to really come back to me. Laying in bed one night, thinking about my experience, I casually G-O-O-G-L-E-D what is “non consensual oral sex”. The person that I am today cannot believe that I was in this much denial from all of this, that I had something done to my body and didn’t even know. When was it going to let me know? When this thought prompted, I knew I didn’t consent to what happened to me, but I didn’t want to admit that it was sexual assault. So what was I looking for? I wanted some middle-ground answer to pop up, an answer like, ‘you’re not wrong, but you weren’t sexually assaulted’ but there really is no in between. I acted as if my experience did not warrant the title of the experience of others that I thought might be “worse” than my situation. Non-consensual oral sex. What became of this fucked up search history that I’m sure someone somewhere can see what I”m looking up and say ‘damn, that’s fucked up’ what came up was R-A-P-E. I stared at the computer screen, started to shake and look over what sources and what people say, what the law and science says. That is an uncomfortable word. It doesn’t just come out, it is a dirty word that is said, and it doesn’t just come off the tongue, it sits there and lingers and anticipates the reaction you know is coming because the person you told also knows the person who harmed you. I looked at state law, by law, these dirty words I’d hate to make you uncomfortable to read, is rape. That was the most validation I had ever needed. I had issues with relationships after that. I had one bad memory from him, and all the other memories from him would shatter. This was unfortunately a common feeling for me because he attempted to rape me a few months back. Looking back, that was way worse than I ever imagined. Today I educate people that attempted rapes are almost as traumatic for your brain as the sexual assault. Your brain 30 recognizes the same thing, but in my mind, eventually my no was taken, so I had the power right? Why did he listen to me then? My body became uncomfortable in my own skin. I wanted a new body, one that had not been touched by yours, one that didn’t have your mouth on it, hands that did not touch yours, and gone through something, I'm sorry I can’t tell you everything because I don’t remember. You hear that? I don’t remember. I used to say, if someone that didn’t have my psyche came up to me and told me exactly what happened to me, happened to them, and then told me that they were unsure if the feelings they had in their own body, the only thing we truely own, the only thing we can truly love, I would say definitely it is sexual assault. I would probably be inquisitive to the fact that what they are telling me is in fact, sexual assault. I would tell myself that I didn’t consent, and that question would automatically be answered. But when it happens to yourself, you know that feeling. Again, the feeling of disgust, nothing has ever fit that feeing more and that was a fucked up comfort and validation that I had been looking for. Oh my god, someone else actually knows how I feel, it wasn’t just me, I am not completely and utterly alone with these thoughts. This was rape. If that word makes you uncomfortable, imagine how uncomfortable it makes me. It doesn’t slide off the tongue, it sits there and anticipates the reactions it knows is coming, because the person that you’re talking to also knows him. This person is also under the assumption you were still attracted to him, which is disgusting that you ever even took the time to entertain. Trauma is stored in the body. It’s unfortunately, and to me, accurately described as a rush of sharp energy that rages through my body, and makes me hypervigilant. Not only that, Every year, my body freaks out at the same time of year, every year my body freaks out with the warm weather. Around the time of year I met him, May or June. Unfortunately as this story continued, that became more and more relevant to my story and even morphed into other parts of 31 the year associated with him. Like we have fall time, attempted rape occurred. We have wintertime, a few days before christmas one year, attempted rape occurred. However, especially spring/summer time of year breaks me apart, and it has affected a lot of my physical relationships, and feeling of safety. I guess July 5th changed me. Changed me into the woman I am today, but I am happy to say the woman I am today helps others that need support and advocacy. Out of all this bad, all these years of feeling trapped, I am finally able to set some of myself free from what happened to me.

I was in a five year relationship with my daughters father he would beat me senseless choke me leave me with black eyes I got pregnant he would still hurt me once I had my daughter in year I left him I never got help or support from anyone because I kept quiet all this time I was scared or I thought no one was gonna believe me but now I’m happy I remarried had three beautiful daughters with my husband and I opened up to him and he supports me in everything he’s my rock I thank God that gave me strength to leave him

I am writing this a mother of a survivor. My daughter was abused by her paternal grandfather from the age of 5 to 6 years of age. Her father discovered the abuse, as we were in the process of divorce at the time. I learned of it through a DFS investigator who told me over the phone what was happening with my child. I was devastated. Her abuser was arrested and after a short period of investigation, we went to trial. His attorney wanted him to receive just 5 years of probation and no registry. We fought against it as they had also found child pornography on his computer at the time. At court, he was found to have her picture even though he was already advised that he could not possess it or have any contact with her. He made excuses that he loved her. This judge did not believe a word he said and said that they were no more than "self-serving words." He was sentenced to 10 years for each count for a total of 20 years to be served concurrently with 80% mandatory. This was in 2011. Just 2 years later we received a letter that he was up for "early parole". My ex-husband and I attended. With him, he brought a letter that he had received from his father asking for a picture of him and our daughter. While there he spoke of having "friends" in prison that protected him from other inmates. When he was told that if he were to get parole, one of the conditions was that he could not have a computer or any device that accesses the internet. He tried to argue that he paid his bills online. His early parole was denied. During all this, we started to see a change in our daughter's behavior. She was having night terrors and was generally not our normal happy-go-lucky kiddo. When she was 9 she told me that she wanted to die. I called her doctor, took her to the ER and she was admitted. They diagnosed her with trauma-induced bipolar, generalized anxiety, and PTSD. She spent the next 6 years in and out of hospitals for suicide attempts and suicidal ideations. Then in 2017, he was up for parole again. This time she wanted to attend, because she was old enough at this point she would be allowed to speak at the hearing. To say that I was proud of her was an understatement. She explained what she had been through and that the 10 years that he was sentenced to was nothing compared to the life sentence that she was given. After she spoke, it was my turn, and then his. She left the room during his time to speak as she could not handle even hearing his voice. In the end, the gentleman handling the hearing came out and congratulated my daughter on her strength and that he was in awe of her ability to speak up for herself. We later found out that he was denied parole again and would complete his sentence. He was released in 2021. As for my daughter, she is doing amazing. She moved to California when she was 20 years old and has been there for almost a year. She is getting ready to start college for a career in ESL and has plans to go to South Korea next summer with plans to move there in the future. She continues to amaze me and fight for herself as well as taking care of her mental health. She has also stopped calling herself a victim and refers to herself as a survivor.

For a long time I hid behind the shame of what happened to me. It took a long time and some therapy before I was able to speak about my childhood. Growing up in a chaotic home due to parents that were addicts made it easy for me to be hurt. I always thought that somehow it was my fault. I don’t remember every part of what happened but the pieces that I can recall are unsettling. I have memories of an older cousin showing myself and two other cousins different parts of his body as a child. I knew it was wrong and from what I remember, most of it was being in a dark living room with the TV on and trying to hide from an adult seeing us. After some time I remember my female cousin who was the same age as me showing me how to masturbate and later on we engaged in oral sexual acts on various occasions. Her bother who was two years younger than me would touch me until I caved in to do things with him as well. I just remember feeling so scared that someone was going to find out. I can’t even recall how we learned how to do those things. I was embarrassed but also terrified of an adult finding out and us getting into trouble. I carried that shame with me forever and always felt like it was my fault since I was older than him. I wish I could recall all of the details and how it all started and ended. Later in life, I had a guy over to hook up with which I regret. After we had sex the first time I was done. I didn’t want to have unprotected sex but I didn’t stop him when he started up again. I just remembered feeling frozen and the sound of his breathing and his smell made me relive the experiences with my cousin. That was when I decided to talk to my therapist about what had happened. It took a while for me to understand that I had no reason to feel shame and that it was not my fault. I have worked on my healing process and I can understand it a lot better now as an adult.

I dated someone for 4 years and they were very abusive I forever wish I would’ve reported the abuse that went on but instead I kept quiet. I am forever thankful that I was able to wake up mentally one day and realize it was not fair to keep being with someone who was physically violent with me and that person did not love me. I am still recovering even years later from this but every day is a new journey and you have to take each day by day because it will get better.