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I was in an abusive relationship for 12 years. I met him when I was fourteen and we came together when I was fifteen. He was nice and lovely and I fell in love with him. I never thought that he could have a dark side. After a few month I began to realize, that there is something inside him. When we had our first fight, he screamed with me and I had so much fear. He apologized and I forgived him. But: It didn‘t stopped. He was verbal abusive. He said that I am a whore. He made me feeling small and like I am the worst person in the world. He said, that I am a psycho. He said I am a joke. He said I am nothing. He said, that he has to talk and scream with me like this, because I don‘t understand his points otherwise. He began to destroy things like my watch or a necklace. The walls had holes and he often grabbed me at my shoulders very hard when he got angry. When I cried, he became angrier at all. I locked myself in the toilet because I had so much fear of him. He also pushed me at the asphalt when he was drunk sometimes. I had bruises. One time he choked me. I never told anybody what happend, because I always forgived him and felt so fucking guilty. I tried to left him, but he always said, that he will kill himself, when I go. I went to therapy but even there I was so ashamed, that I didn‘t talk about the abuse. After two years of therapy I got stronger and stronger. I was ready to talk to somebody about the things that happend to me and that I want to leave him. Suddenly I felt free and was ready to go. He always said, that he loves me and that I am the love of his life. It never was love. I realized that I was in an abusive relationship. There were verbal, emotional and physical abuse. I didn't imagine any of it. I wasn't crazy. Whoever is reading this and is in a similar situation: You are strong! You are intelligent! You are beautiful! You are a good person! You can trust yourself! You can talk to someone! You can do this! You can leave him! You are a wonderful human being! I love you all out there and send you hugs. We have to share our stories and we are allowed to share them. Together we can change something.

As man who suffered abuse and watched as my mother and sister suffered it with me, here's my story. I have turned it into a book called Book Name that will be published in 2025, in the hopes my story will help others who have been silent to speak up and speak out. Growing up in 1960s City, my father’s explosive temper ruled our house like a storm that never stopped raging. His beatings were a ritual—unpredictable but inevitable. His belt was his weapon of choice, and I was the target. First came the verbal assault. “You’re worthless!” he’d scream, spitting his venomous words before unleashing the belt on me. The crack of leather against my skin was sharp, but what cut deeper was the fear that filled my every moment. His attacks were brutal and relentless, and I learned quickly that crying only made it worse. I developed a mantra to survive: “I’m not crazy; he is.” I scratched those words into the wall beneath my bed and held onto them like a lifeline, clinging to the idea that this madness wasn’t my fault. But no mantra could protect me from the pain or the scars that came with each beating. My body bruised and welted, and I carried those marks into adulthood, hidden beneath layers of clothing and false smiles. When I was six, a moment of curiosity nearly killed me. I had been playing outside, tossing sticks into a neighbor’s burning barrel, when a spark landed on my nylon jacket. Within seconds, I was engulfed in flames. As I screamed and ran, my back burning, a neighbor tackled me into the snow, saving my life. In the hospital, as doctors worked to heal my third-degree burns, my fear of my father overshadowed the pain. When I came home, still covered in bandages, my father’s violence continued. He slapped me across the face for not attending the party he had arranged for my homecoming. The message was clear: no amount of suffering would earn me compassion from him. His cruelty was unyielding, and I realized that nearly dying had changed nothing. As the physical scars from the fire healed, the emotional scars festered. I lived in constant fear, not knowing when the next beating would come. His footsteps sent shivers through me, each step a reminder that I was never safe. Even after his death in year his influence loomed over me. I was relieved he was gone, but unresolved grief and anger remained. I sought to reinvent myself in university, throwing myself into academics and work. I was determined to escape the trauma, but no matter how hard I ran, it followed me. The violence I experienced as a child soon became violence I inflicted on myself. In my twenties, bulimia became my way of coping. I would binge on food and purge, as if vomiting could expel the pain I had carried for so long. It was a twisted ritual of control, and yet I had no control at all. Afterward, I would collapse in a heap, my body drained but my mind still haunted by memories I couldn’t outrun. Each cycle promised relief, but it never lasted. Obsessive exercise became another outlet. I spent hours in the gym, pushing my body to its limits, believing that if I could perfect my exterior, I could somehow fix the brokenness inside. I built muscles to protect myself, but the mirror always reflected the truth—hollow eyes staring back at me, the emptiness never far behind. Even as I climbed the ranks in my career, becoming a corporate executive, the gnawing self-doubt persisted. I was successful, but success didn’t heal the wounds my father left. I also sought comfort in strangers. Fleeting encounters became a way to fill the void inside, offering temporary escape from the relentless pain. But after every encounter, the emptiness returned, more consuming than before. No amount of running, lifting, or sex could fill the gaping hole in my heart. I was numbing myself, not living. It wasn’t until I sought therapy that I began to confront the traumas I had buried so deeply. My first therapist suggested writing letters to my parents, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It took finding the right therapist—someone who pushed me to go beyond the surface—to finally begin the healing process. Slowly, I unraveled the layers of pain, facing not only the abuse from my father but also the self-inflicted harm I had continued to impose upon myself for years. My wife, name became my greatest support, helping me peel back the layers and confront the darkness I had hidden for so long. Together, we built a life of love and connection, but even in those happiest moments, the shadows of my past never left me. When my mother passed away indate, I found closure in our complicated relationship. Forgiveness—both for her and for myself—became an essential part of my healing. Today, I use my story to encourage others to speak up and break the silence around abuse. The pain I endured was not in vain. I believe that our past can fuel our purpose and that, ultimately, our pain can become our power.

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 just fled from domestic violence 3 months ago & still struggling to move forward. I forgave him so much & often blamed myself for all the physical abuse I endured. I always had an excuse for him, even felt like I deserved it at times. It went from punching the wall above my head to full on punching me in the face in a matter of weeks. He moved me 24 hours away from my family where things just became worse. He ended up pistol whipping me and putting his gun to my head telling me he’d kill me multiple different times, put knives to my chest & overall just beat the shit out of me. I was so scared I thought I’d be safer staying with him. Thankfully someone witnessed him dragging me in the house by my hair & called the police and he was arrested. I originally was panicking & figuring out how to get him out. But the day after he arrested everything in me told me to pack up as much as I could of my son & I’s things and GO. Crisis funded my gas/food back across the country. I left terrified, hurt & not knowing where my son and I would live. I went to a domestic violence shelter & eventually got my own place again. He was sentenced to only 1 year in jail (3 felonies were dropped he was facing 30 years) & I’ve been in a constant battle between feeling bad and missing him & knowing I deserve more and so does my son. Breaking the cycle has been so mentally draining but I can’t wait to see what life holds for me in the future as hard and unknown as it might be.

Iam a 33 year old with 3 children(2 boys and one girl) my first born son is from my previous relationship. I was a fresh graduate when i met this man that i currently have two kids with …i finished university expecting to get a job to support me and my then only son but each time i tried to look for jobs my husband discouraged me saying i would be exploited and given peanuts so to whom it was wise for me to sit home and be a wife i gave in and sat home but him satisfying my needs was always a fight i remember i asked for panties and bras for the last 6 years and nothing.everything he provides we must first have a fight and he knows so well i have no where to run to because he isolated me from my family. After moving in with him and my son he started treatung my son with so much anger he would beat,abuse and use vulgar words to him and he still does it he shows him that am not your father and only favors the kids i have with him. Mine i came with is not worthy of anything good. While i was pregnant for his son he was flirting with my sister and by this time i was not getting any financial help so i opted to go to my mothers rental and after sometime my sister disclosed to me the kind of husband i have when i confronted him about it he was too bitter and threatened to take my kids from me. When i was pregnant for my second child with him i got him with 15 girls flirting and sleeping around i was so devasted and almost lost my child due to stress i put my self together and let it go for my sake of my baby but i swore i was done with this man so i started not to pay too much attention on him and concentrated on raising my kids meanwhile i was caught up had no money of my own and had no relative in contact with i perservered and stayed to have a roof over our heads and to solicit food for my kids. I actually lost sexual appetite towards him for all the disgusting things he does behind my back but he would force me into sex and threaten not to provide if i ddt satisfy him a time came when he would rape me saying am his property and that i couldnt live without him since i dont have any money. It was all verbal violence until may this year 2024when i confronted him about cheating with my cousin and messages of him in a lodge with another girl that he grabbed me by the neck and strangled me and beat up that i started spitting blood..at this point i said to myself i should leave and start a new life i actually told him am leaving and he laughed at me saying u cant leave what are u gonna feed ur kids .i was packing whole day thinking to my self i cant fail to get where to stay but reality hit me and for sure i had no where to go so i unpacked my stuff and stayed its now months and months of sexual, financial,emotional and physical abuse but i dont know where to start with 3 children ive actually contemplated suicide so many times thinking it will ease the pain. Am in fear please advise me

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

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

I am trying to leave this DV relationship, but it's complicated. He lives with me; he uses my phone and car because he doesn't have neither. I don't want to get the police involved nor do I want to kick him out, 1. he will just be outside my apartment unit and 2. defamation of my character - for some reason everyone believes him and don't see any wrong by him but he sure can make someone look terrible. He is leeching on me. I feel like I'm being suffocated by a hurt boy who have been wounded and traumatized all his life and he is using me as an energy bank to cure his wounds and to cater to his needs. I currently have a cold and he hasn't taken care of me or even asked how I am doing. From the many times I haven't felt well, he would argue with me. I feel so alone and feel like I can't make any plans until he can get a phone and car. Friends say call the police, but I really don't want to, I don't want him to destroy my reputation. My therapist said that if my reputation is the only reason I am putting up with him then I shouldn't worry about my reputation. I understand where my friends and therapist are coming from, but I really don't want that to happen to me, I have seen what he did to his baby mother and it just been a shit show. Am I wrong to want a calm and safest way out?

I was interviewing for a position at Target in 2009 and my ex-partner is the employee who first greeted me that day – he had a really inviting smile. After working together for a couple of months, I fell for his charming personality, and we started dating in January of 2010. He was funny and made me laugh. He also made me feel special and beautiful. The abuse began a few months after we started dating. He pitted me against his ex-girlfriend – who was also not over him – through, what I now know as, manipulation tactics. The emotional and verbal abuse started about a year into the relationship. So much name-calling, gaslighting, and flipping things around so it appeared as though I was always overreacting. Even with all of that, there were good times and nothing physical at this point. We ended up getting married in 2012 and within two weeks of living together the physical abuse started, followed quickly by sexual abuse. Unfortunately, the emotional, verbal, and psychological abuse were much worse during this time as well. I knew I had to leave when one day I was walking out the door and he hit me from behind, while threatening to snap my neck if I screamed. His actions and threat terrified me, so as soon as I could, I snuck out of my home to a friend’s house and called the military police. Thankfully they believed me, and he received an Article 15* and was punished for his actions and threats. *An Article 15 is where the commander (who is normally not a lawyer) hears the evidence, makes a determination of guilt or innocence, and imposes punishment as they see fit. I was unable to leave for a couple more months after this terrifying incident, but that day was my wakeup call – if I stayed, he was going to kill me. I left in July 2013! The process was extremely confusing and hard. It is truly a miracle I was able to leave, and I really can’t tell you how it was possible. On top of the process itself being confusing, difficult, and scary, I lived in Guam at the time – halfway around the world from everyone I knew and any support system. I was terrified…but I left anyway. I don’t know how I would have left and divorced him without the support system I had. My friends (not mutual – those who were just mine) and family were extremely supportive and encouraged me to leave him. My dad handled everything so well. He never doubted me. He never judged me. This is the support that is needed when you’re trying to be free. My grandparents took me to the lawyer to divorce him. Standing strong alongside me. My journey started with reading countless self-help books because I learned that working on yourself is as essential as taking care of yourself. Both new concepts to a survivor of domestic violence. After being diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) two years after I left, I finally started therapy. I was extremely lucky in that I did not have to work for an entire year and could focus my time on healing and therapy. And while I had that year of dedicated time, healing from domestic violence is a lifelong endeavor – I’m still in therapy now and on doctor prescribed medications. It truly is a journey and with a good therapist and a variety of treatments (such as Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy and Eye Movement Desensitization and Processing (EMDR)), you will continue to heal.

I was young and naive. I didn't even know what rape was. I sought help from my friends only to be met with all of the "why didn't you...this?" or "why didn't you...that?" From that point on I blamed myself and never spoke about the rape. In my early adulthood, I had a coworker that recognized something in me and she asked me if I had been raped. She offered me support and resources. I still hadn't ever heard of any advocacy programs. At age 25, I applied for a new job working with child abuse victims. Little did I know, but they also worked with victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. I found my healing there and I continue to work there 31 years later. I found my healing and strength through educating the public and advocating for others. As I get older, I get bolder. I no longer fear sharing my story.

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

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

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.

We met at a campus Christian fellowship meeting during my first week of college. We were introduced by a friend of his and he walked me back to my dorm. I assumed he would be a safe person since we met through a Christian entity. Up to this point, I had very little dating experience. It went from nothing to intense real quick. We never had the conversation about what we were and all of the sudden we were serious. It went from seeing him weekly at fellowship meetings to all the time, in no time at all. We were THE couple on campus. If we weren't at an event, folks were banging on my door asking where we were. Everyone wanted to be like us. There was never any “are you sure?” or “this doesn’t seem right” conversations from anyone. There was an expectation to see us at events around campus. The abuse was gradual – boundary testing and love bombing. Although I didn’t recognize it as abuse at the time. As far as the smaller signs of abuse, I remember I told him I thought hickeys were trashy and almost immediately he gave me an intense hickey and responses, “you mean just like that?” I thought it was just a dude thing to do but in reality he crossed a boundary I set on the spot. There were so many little things like that that didn’t originally feel like a red flag. If I knew what I knew now, that would have been an immediate no. He and I broke up after graduation. It felt like he dropped off the face of the earth. However, he literally showed up years later at my parent’s doorstep when I moved there to take care of my mother who was dying of cancer. Cue the love bombing again... I was already in a vulnerable place because of my mom. Once my mom passed on his birthday, he dropped everything to be with me. Looking back, he brought his baby sister and she made several comments about how I need to be “cheerful and smiling” because that is what my mom would want. It made me question why he brought her in the first place, because it wasn’t helpful. But, I still was in shock at how he dropped everything for me. We got engaged and married shortly after. The abuse continued. One day when I was heading to the grave site, I was sexually assaulted in the car and I tried to justify it by him not being used to me being dressed up and that I was being hyper emotional. These little escalations over time grew. The gaps between escalation got shorter and shorter and the escalation got more and more. He knew so much about my insecurities that he used it against me, by saying things like “who else will give you attention,” “I am the only man who has come back to you,” “you are hypersensitive just like your mom said.” He would also manipulate me and use intimidation knowing that the local DV shelter was not wheelchair accessible at the time, leaving me without a quick escape. It took me a long time to figure out how to navigate this and move forward. He enjoyed making me fear for my life, but then making me get my emotions together before seeing any of our friends. He enjoyed humiliating, degrading and making me fear for my life. One time he refused to help me accessibility wise (couldn’t get into a bathroom) and I had an accident – he enjoyed the ability to control things. More than a year before I left, I had a disassociation episode and lost hours of time. By the end of that day, I tried to leave and went to my church group for help, and they didn’t support me. So, I figured if they didn’t believe me or think that he is a good man being with a disabled woman, I thought I deserved to stay and I will likely just end up being killed. In fact, I am a strangulation survivor. He would put his hands on my throat and say things like, “you know how easily I can kill you” and once I replied, “just f*cking do it then and get it over with” – I was at that point where I didn’t care if I lived or died. Eight years later it was my birthday eve, we went to dinner – he had to work on my actual birthday – and we began to argue over him wanting to go to a friend’s house that night. Prior to this night, he would leave for three hours or more and I never knew what he was doing or if he was dead somewhere. So, I wasn’t fond of him going back to his friend’s house on my birthday eve and I muttered the statement “well happy f*cking birthday to me” and he replied with “you have only been ruining my birthday for the last eight f*cking years.” And immediately after he said that I unloaded on him. The last thing I said was – I know how long you spend at your friend’s house, and I will be gone before you get back. For context, in the past I tried leaving three times. I had been pulling away for a little bit to try and process what has been going on. Once after staying with a friend for an extended period of time I would question why I would go back but it felt like I was telling myself that it would get better. One time he and I had a nasty fight when he got home very late, and I said “are we going to talk about this or do what we normally do and sweep it under the rug.” His response made me fearful. I immediately dissociated as he banged his fists on the wall and was screaming over me. I curled up and time disappeared. His voice became just noise. Then something switched and he was back to normal. I knew I needed to do what he expected me to do in order to de- escalate. So we changed for bed and I didn’t sleep a wink. The next day I tried to get him out of the house and to church but it wasn’t happening so I just left. I dissociated and don’t remember driving into town. I made it to church and it was clear that I was unwell. That is when I finally made a full disclosure and it was horrible. My pastor said it was too busy and had me sit with his mother in law. After sharing my experiences with her, she said “Are you sure you understand what abuse really is? You just need to go home and be a better wife and appreciate how much he takes care of you.” as she gestured to my wheelchair. I knew I needed to get out of there immediately. I then found a friend and disclosed it to her. She had a similar reaction. This set me off. I got in my car and had self harming thoughts. But I made it home. He told me I might as well just stay. I thought I would just die here. There was more escalation and sleep deprivation - everything got worse. He told me if I went to stay with someone else that I would be a burden to them, and no one would help me due to my disability. Two days after I left, I went home for an already planned trip for Thanksgiving and folks knew something was wrong immediately. That part of the family was and always has been supportive of my divorce. They are two hours away so help is limited. The community I lived in and am back living in, so many people want to minimize abuse towards people with disabilities. They don’t want to see the severity of it. Other folks outside of my family were not that supportive. Many questioned my ability to know what domestic violence truly is. Most tried to justify his actions and tell me it couldn't have been that bad...after all, why would he be with someone like me if he wasn't a good man?!?! As if he must be a Saint to be with someone with a disability and “maybe he was just tired of taking care of me” – utter nonsense. I have had to make my circle small. I have learned which people get it and validate me vs those who made comments or don’t support me. The biggest thing for me was finding validating books and literature. Coming into Speak Your Truth Today and seeing similarities in stories and having that validation of not being over dramatic, over sensitive, and this is a reality I am healing from was a huge thing for me. I really hope to make it known what happened to me and make sure that even if you have the slightest inclination that you are not being taken seriously, find support elsewhere. You deserve help. Not all folks with disabilities need a caregiver. And not all partners are caregivers. This is a common stereotype/assumption that people can have. Validation was rare outside my family until I found SYTT. But know this – there is NEVER an excuse for abuse. Your disability didn't cause it, there's NOTHING you do to deserve abuse. Educate yourself on healthy relationships and know that you are deserving of a peaceful, loving, committed, happy relationship. Educate yourself on the nuances of abuse towards those with disabilities. Abusers use a completely different set of tactics. We have different barriers, complex needs and shame/ ableist mentalities are deeply influenced by our abusers.

He was charismatic, charming, romantic, and seemed soulful. I was young, had just been hit in my previous relationship, cheated on, and felt alone. He was supposed to be someone to get over my ex & I ended up pregnant. Within the first month I had a hand sized bruise on my shoulder, had been held down, had my phone smashed & thrown into a fish tank. I was told if I said anything to anyone I wouldn’t live to say anything else. He cheated on me throughout our entire relationship. He put me down. Told me I wasn’t good for anything. He hit me. Punched me in the face until my tooth broke through my lip. Tried to strangle me. Pulled a gun on my family members. I got rid of dogs I had because I didn’t want them to be abused. I gave birth to a little girl & he held her and hit me. I left that night. I came back to the house days later & thought he was gone. I needed her clothes, her diapers, etc. he was there and pulled a knife towards me. I called the police and he was arrested. He got out and at one of his visitations raped & hit me. FINALLY after 7 years of him reaching out to me after every new relationship he enters, he is leaving me alone. I may have left the situation, but the trauma, the pain, the distrust is still there. The girl I was, was replaced with a shell of who I used to be. The PTSD, the depression, the anxiety still affects me & always will. But knowing my daughter has never known the man he is. The man who he will always be. That’s what keeps motivated. I broke the cycle. It did end with us.

I will not longer live in fear for my self and my sons life. I will no longer be told how ugly and fat I am. I will no longer have him put his hands on me. I will no longer allow bruises on my face. I will no longer let this happen to someone else. I was in a situation where I couldn't leave for a long time and couldn't ask for help. The most fear I have ever been in in my life. But I have a 3-year-old son and NO ONE will ever hurt him the way they hurt me. I am putting a stop to being the victim and taking back control in my own life. One thing that I learned that is the most important to me... Is that you're never alone, and you are beautiful!

I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world. He was romantic, smart, funny, loving, kind, everything I had ever wanted in a guy. When things started to shift, I deeply believed it was my responsibility as his girlfriend to comfort him, take care of him, fix him. But as the breakdowns became more consistent, as he became more violent, as the words grew heavier and more hurtful, I was left feeling drained. My belief that I was supposed to stick by his side no matter what, that love was forgiving and forgetting, destroyed me. He was broken, and it was selfish to leave him. He didn’t mean it, he apologized eventually, he comforted me when he hurt me, so it was okay. But if I could go back in time, I’d scream “leave now, save yourself.” Because these excuses I was making were just that. Excuses. It was not normal. It was not okay. No excuses could be made to make his behavior normal. I just want everyone out there to know that it is not your fault. You are not weak. You are not stupid for not seeing it sooner. You were in love with someone who only showed you a small aspect of themselves, and then revealed the rest when you were already in too deep. One time is enough. It wasn’t an accident the first time, and it won’t be an accident the next. The recovery process is hard. But it’s so worth it. And you are worth so much more than what he declares over you. Please know that you are not alone. I’m rooting for you and I know others are too.

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.

I am a survivor of abuse from a partner. With this abuse I was learning how the system fails to have safety nets for helping women in need. Domestic Violence grows in closed doors situations. I want the public to learn that I went to college and was emotionally abused by a Spouse who was running a double life. This abuse was able to be successful because isolation was first done followed up by manipulation, control, drugging, sex trafficking, Domestic Violence, abuse, slavery and because the gas lighting was so good I prayed for death. Now I'm left feeling broken with PTSD and huge trust issues. No-more will I put myself in that situation. I trust no-one now. Forever alone. Forever sad.

I was 17, he was 26. It was my first boyfriend and I was head over heels excited that I had my first boyfriend and that he was older. First year felt normal and I felt so happy. After I turned 18 there was a big shift. The following years were filled with coercion, manipulation and grooming. He hurt me for the first time while my friend was sleeping next to us at a house party. I had to stay silent while I was wincing in pain. When we got back home that night he hit even worse and it hurt to walk the next day. He cried and said it was my fault and said I made him do that. Manipulation continued, coercion got worse with threats like not letting me back into his apartment till I gave him what he wanted, another time he punched me in the arm out of anger and gaslighted me into thinking he never punched me after a bruise was visible. 4 years into the relationship, I always say to myself now it’s like a lightbulb turned on in my brain and told me this isn’t right I need to leave, I could have a better life than this. So I did, I opened up to those around me and found support in them. It was hard, I still had emotions to let go of and he tried so hard to keep me around by being extra sweet with me, but to this day I am so happy I didn’t fall for it again. Memories of him still haunt me, but I remember I am free now. People always ask DV survivors “well why didn’t you just leave?” It’s more than that. Once you’re in that cycle of abuse it’s hard to get out of. I pray to everyone experiencing this one day too has a lightbulb turn on in their head. I see you, i hear you and i wish you all the freedom