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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.

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Story
From a survivor
🇺🇸

#1842

I was 6 the first time I was raped. It went on for nearly a decade. The worst thing about incest Is there access that the perpetrator has to you. You can’t escape and so you are always living in terror. When I was 7, I was gang raped by a group of teenage boys. It was incredibly violent and terrifying. I remember sitting outside after I finally got myself untied. I was afraid to go home because I didn’t want my abuser to find out that his “property” has been used by someone else, but I couldn’t think of a single person to go to, so I didn’t tell anyone for another 30 years. At 8, I was molested by a neighbor. During these outside abuses, I was still being raped at home. That ended when I was 13. The next 3 years were some of my happiest years. I was finally not being abused! During that time, the PTSD caused me to develop a heart condition and an eating disorder but I felt free! That all changed when I was 16 and met my first boyfriend. He began sexually abusing me a few months into our relationship. He left on an LDS mission and spent the mission stalking me from a distance. I started dating another boy who was emotionally abusive. The next boyfriend would slap me and tell me how stupid I was. I just couldn’t get it right. Then I met my husband. I married him when I was 19 years old. He is kind and gentle with me and I felt like I had finally found safety… Then his brother started sexual harassing me. This happened for years. Eventually, he sexually assaulted me. I told my husband everyone it would happen. He never did anything to help me. I had been seeing my therapist for 13 years when he started acting flirtatious. He was getting a divorce from his wife who I later found out was a patient of his. I got out of that situation quick. I was in my 30s, attending graduate school to become a therapist when the next sexual assault happened. It was a family friend in his 60s. He told me one day that he was very sick and wanted me to stop by. I went to his house to check in and he locked me in his room and sexually assaulted me. Afterward, he threatened me with a lawsuit and threatened my husband’s career, as he knew my husband’s boss. I was so scared and felt like I needed a week of school to pull myself back together. I explained to my professors what had happened. One of them forwarded my email to the administration of the college who then tried to force me out. They told me: “since you got assaulted, we can no longer support you in our program.” Just a reminder, this was a graduate program to become a therapist! It was disguising that they would try to through me out, blaming me for the assault! When I tried to push back on their actions, they threatened me with layers from the university. In the end, I won and became a therapist. At this pointing in my life, I had experienced so much abuse, rape, violence, and trauma but I had held it together, becoming a mom, earning 3 college degrees, working many jobs and helping my husband run a business were started in the side. I didn’t realize that everything I had been through was going to hit me like a freight train. I was worrying at a hospital as a therapist, co-facilitating an IOP group when one of my clients decided they were going to kill me, the other clients in the group and themselves by committing a mass shooting. This client told someone of their plans and we were warned the morning it was to happen. I was forced by hospital administrators and police to stay in the office where the person would be coming for 2 hours. The person was located by SWAT a few blocks from the hospital with a stock pile of weapons. I kind of snapped after that. My body started giving out. My mental health issues got a lot worse. I could no longer function. I started seeing another therapist. She was so kind and loving toward me. I adored her and felt like I was starting to heal some of the wounds that had been festering for decades. She was the one to initiate physical contact. I’ve been afraid of being touched most of my life so when she started touching me, it was scary. It was very innocent, hugs or a pat on the arm. It started to feel reassuring and comforting. Then she started getting angry at me. I would mention texting a friend she didn’t want me talking to or talk about wanting to change my hairstyle. She would berate me for the rest of the session, making me feel like I was bad for saying the wrong thing. Then she would lovebomb me sitting the next session. It was intoxicating. This went on for years. It got to the point where she was always touching me. She would touch me even when I didn’t want her to touch me. It was incredibly inappropriate! When she would get mad at me, which was often, she would demand that I apologize profusely. She owned me. She broke me down to nothing. She isolated me from friends and family. I was so depressed and anxious and confused. I believed her, that I was trash. Last year, I became very sick and when I told her I would be going to a clinic to get help, she lost it. Filled with jealous rage, she lashed out at me. Something in me found the strength to walk away. It was one year ago this month that I saw her last. I feel as I am nothing. I currently am mostly bed bound, unable to leave the safety of my room, unable to interact with other humans, completely terrified to live a meaningful life. I am so scared. I wish I could say that I found my way and am healing but the truth is, I’ve experienced too much. I don’t know that I’m ever find myself again. Some wounds are too deep to heal. My body is falling apart. My mind is obliterated. I don’t know if there is hope. Thank you for reading my story. It means more to me than I can ever express.

Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I learned the hard way, but I survived! I’ll be smarter and stronger going forward!

    My name is Name, I’m an indigenous person from Place, USA. I’m a daughter, sister, mother, and a Survivor. I never really thought that I would end up in the relationships I ended up in but, here I am sharing my story! The last 12 years of my life I had been in and out of relationships, had two sons out of two of those relationships. They are the best parts of those relationships and times in my life. I know they in some way saved me and helped me survive to be here today sharing. My last two relationships I were in, were the worst abusive relationships. My youngest son came out of one of them, and to this day I still have to deal with one of my abusers because we have a child together. In that relationship I was physically, emotionally, mentally, financially, and sexually abused. I went through things that I didn’t even know that happened until the next day or days after. My ex we can call him Nameabused me mostly when he was already drunk, it was always when we were drinking that he would start arguments with me or his jealousy would come out more. Little did I know that at one time he had sexually assaulted me while I had passed out from drinking and when I woke up asking if something happened; something didn’t feel right. Nametold me “yeah you don’t remember?” And clearly I had no clue but according to him “I wanted it!” But how could I even know that or even say “yes” to anything being passed out. This was the first time he raped me but it wasn’t the last. Nameand I were in a relationship for 3 1/2 years in that time he physically would hurt me, force himself on me or take advantage of me while I was sleeping . It became unsettling to sleep at night knowing something might happen. At that time I was also taking care of my oldest son from a previous marriage and my youngest who was a baby on top of working full time. So I was exhausted from everything. I used to wake up to either text messages saying how worthless I was or name calling me because I had fallen asleep and not awake when he would get home. Or I would wake up to him yelling at me because I was defending myself in my sleep as he was trying to sexually assault me. Everything became my fault according to him. It was so dysfunctional, that at that time I was even drinking heavily. The pandemic hit and that was the beginning of the end of our relationship, I was so exhausted, depressed, just at the point of breaking! Our last fight ended with him calling the police on me and turning the narrative like I was the aggressor because he had spammed me on the ground and was hurting me, I defended myself, I felt so misunderstood and betrayed especially when the police wouldn’t let me speak and listen to me. I know now I’m not the only woman this has happened to in domestic violence situations. I take that as that was my way out yeah I got booked, finger printed and had charges which in the end Namedidn’t want either for me because he knew I didn’t do anything. In his words he just called them to “calm me down” he honestly thought I would go back to him after that NOPE! That was the end of it my freedom from him, with my sons. At that time I thought I would never get back into a relationship like that again, I knew the signs; I thought I knew it all! BOY was I wrong! My life at that time was spiraling out of control, I was lost but yet still thinking that I was completely mentally okay! I was dating and still drinking, I was rebellious at that time. It was almost a year later that I ended up meeting my last abuser, the one that almost ended my life! They say something you repeat things until you learn the lesson and I sure did that! This guy was handsome, charming, everything I ever wanted in a guy or so I thought! I’ll call him Name for the purpose of privacy reasons, but he really put on a great performance and mask! He was a small business owner and he made himself seem like he was down on his luck. He used the fact that I was previously in an abusive relationship as away to get close to me and give me false promises. Name promised me the entire world, I was “the best thing to ever happen to him!” And he was going to treat me the way I always should’ve been treated. Things went very fast for us when we first met. Our first meeting he was already referring me as his girlfriend. At the time I thought it was just so sweet and I felt like I was dreaming. For the first two months our relationship was amazing, he was good with my sons, and my family liked him. But at that point he definitely showed me a side of him that I didn’t like his jealousy. He made it clear that I couldn’t tapk to anyone of the opposite sex or have friends that were either. He slowly cut me off from everyone and everything! I quit my job because he told me to in the end and that I would be better working for him. Which that was a huge mistake! He and I were together 24/7 and it got to the point that where he started to verbally abuse me; his words were hurtful! He would tell me if I just listened and he obeyed him then none of it would happen but if I counted to be “bad” then he would continue to get mad at me. It wasn’t until about 6 months into our relationship is when Name became physically abusive with me. The first time it happened I was completely scared out of my mind, I froze, I was crying but I was told to be quiet or it would be worse. After that every time he would get mad at me I would be physically hurt on top of being verbally, emotionally, mentally, and financially abused. Those were the darkest moments of my life, there were days that I thought I would never get out of it. I felt trapped, and alone. Name made me completely dependent on him and I had to ask him to do anything right down to using the bathroom. I did nothing alone, showering, getting dressed, taking care of myself when it was that time of the month all of it! I was his prisoner! He would refer to me as his “Indian Slave” amount other very racially charged names that were so mean and hateful! He told me that if I ever left he would blackmail me, he kept complete control over me. He got my addicted to substances that I had never even done in my life, even doing drugs I had never even thought I would do! All to keep me under his control! This was a daily thing every day to obey him and if I didn’t then he would get mad for hours even days u til he would get over whatever he was mad at me about and then things would be “normal” for about a day or two then right back into it again. It was a sick cycle! I was exhausted mentally and physically! Survival mode every day is a lot for a person. The last and final time he abused me was complete torture, he tortured me for 3 to 4 hours and in that time He almost took my life! He strangled me to the point I couldn’t breathe, I lost my sight, the ability to see, and hear! I was close to dying! When he finally let go and I came back I knew I had to find away out, after being physically hurt more after that, hours had past he made me fall asleep with him. When we woke up I knew then I had to get my son who was in another room away from me and run! Somehow, someway I did just that, Name tried to hold me son against me not letting me take him, but it was my voice of screaming for my son that I was able to pick him up and run into the woods with him. It was the only thing I could think of to do and doing that with the clothes I had on and the clothes my son (youngest) had on I saved our lives, I ran to safety I knew the way I was going that the police station would be there. That was the motivation for me to keep going, thankfully someone had seen me with my son running and they called the police along with others who had called before, letting them know “hey this woman and child need help!” And they did I managed to make it on the main road and I was scared walking looking around hoping that Name wouldn’t drive up and try to take us or worse run us over, I almost asked someone for help but it was at that moment that I had looked up and saw the police coming right at me! I was all kinds of emotions, happy, sad, sacred, relieved! I told them what happened and I’m so glad I did as scary as it was to speak up it was the best decision I made for myself and my youngest son my oldest son thankfully want there at the time. But I knew that this was the time that I either needed to smarten up or I was going to end up not being here! I finally said to myself I learned my lesson and now I must truly, truly that this serious and heal from this and take a good look at myself so that this doesn’t happen to me again in any relationship. That was just over two years ago now and my abuser has been in prison for what he did to me, he got sentenced to 9 years, but he only has to do 5 years then he can get put on probation with speculations if he violates that then he goes back to prison for 4 years. I am one of three women that he has abused, I was the third one to speak out and the first one to put him prison for domestic violence. I’m in therapy and counseling for all the abuse I’ve been through and have been single since this all happened I’m taking my time, being smart about it all not rushing anything. I also will always speak out and share my story to help others because no one deserves to be treated this way! This wasn’t love! Love isn’t supposed to hurt like that or almost get one killed over it! So if my story can help others I’ll always continue to share. Thank you for letting me share this on here for others!

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  • You are surviving and that is enough.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    A Lifetime

    I grew up in violence- my neighborhood, my school, my home. I grew up with constant insults and indignities because of poverty and a violent brother. So when I met Jack when I was 22 and he was a bully, dismissive, insulting and emotionally difficult for me, it all felt normal. But, as I got older I knew I had to get away from him. He limited my relationships and always found ways to subvert my work while belittling me for not keeping jobs. I tried to leave many time but he bulleyed, frightened, pleaded, coerced, apologized, threatened until I took him back. Then when I was 68 and he was 69 he left to have a “selfish bucket list fling” with a former girlfriend. He expected to come back after 2 months. He didn’t believe me that I was divorcing him and signed the papers without reading them. It has been 2 1/2 years and I am still fighting the battle in court to actually get the court ordered alimony that is coming to me. I am not homeless. In fact I live in the home we bought and remodeled. I have a very good life. He had me convinced that I would be back in poverty if it were not for him. I feel more well off than I ever did with him. Plus, his negativity, meanness, and general bad behavior are out of my life at last. I wish I had had the courage and strength to leave years ago and save myself and my children from his abuse. But I am happy to heal my relationships with the people I love who he kept away from me for all those years.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #870

    I survived. I got out. You can too. Insidious and devious are the words I think of when I've wondered how I got trapped. My ex-spouse was so charming, everybody thought he was a great person and I did too. So much so that I decided to ignore the fact he raped me and chalked it up to us drinking. Then gradually as we dated and then married he tried to spin a web of control around me by being angry and violent when I would spend time with friends or go to the gym or go to the library to study. Telling me I was not allowed to go to the gym because there were men there. Being told I couldn't go to work events. Calling my work when I was working late and accusing me of having affairs, then being verbally and physically abusive. He was so successful at manipulating others even my dad, initially, didn't believe me when I told him about the monster and the horrible things I had endured. I finally told my dad what had been going on when he threatened to kill me and chased me with a baseball bat. I was able to get in my car and get away and called my dad crying and screaming. He thought I had lost my mind. Some of my friends also thought I had lost it, and told me oh he is so nice and scoffed when I said I was filing for divorce and a protective order. After the first two calls to the sheriff they believed me and were so kind, frequently driving by my house and making sure I was safe. There is power in being believed. There is strength in knowing that others have made it out both alive and eventually became whole. I still experience occasional flashbacks and certain situations will trigger my anxiety, but I am able to trust people again and no longer fear "being in trouble" if I spend time with friends. Even more, I have allowed myself to become emotionally vulnerable with other people again after all these years. That was a huge leap for me. And I genuinely feel like a good person again.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    You are not alone. Keep fighting. You are a survivor.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Not Sleeping soundly

    I look back and am plagued by doubt. It’s less now but still it creeps in - did it happen? Was I too sensitive? Maybe I made too much of it? Have I remembered it wrong? What I know to be true is how I felt and continue to feel when he is mentioned or I see him. FEAR. It’s been 2 years and I still think about if he will like what I am wearing or will have a comment to make. I question my reality - ‘did that happen? Did I say that?’ In lost interactions with him. I met him on line 14 years ago. Things moved quickly, ish. I didn’t see it then but looking back he was ALWAYS there. He gave his friend keys to my flat and I arrived home with it tidied and reorganized. He thought I was messy and that it was a nice thing to do. I felt utterly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable with this but stayed and thanked him as I was left feeling ungrateful. Interestingly I didn’t introduce him to my friends - in fact I kept him quite separate. I think I knew that I didn’t want them to meet him as something was off and they would probably see it and point it out. Or maybe o was afraid that they wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t point it out so it would make me feel even crazier. He didn’t like how I breathed in his direction in bed. He didn’t like how I fiddled with things. (These all felt ok to change for him……. I really had no self love and held myself with very little worth). The first physical element to the abuse (which I can now name as such) was a confusing incident at the time. He was napping and I woke him and he grabbed me by the throat. I was so shocked and I wanted to run a mile but ended up being told that it was my fault as I woke him too quickly. I was brainwashed already (3 months in). I was hard wired for this though as I had be taught not to trust my instincts - how dangerous this was. I stayed for 12 years, 2 children and gradually faded away. I dreamed of leaving, I said I would over and over and I nearly did once but it took so much courage to do it. I was terrified of the financial implications. I was isolated. I was exhausted. And I did it. He would have ‘waking dreams’ during which he would scream at me, push me, throw things, terrify me but would not remember them in the morning or want to talk about them. He would say ‘ well it wasn’t me, I was asleep’. I went to bed in fear most nights. There were never any bruises you could see but so much had been pulverized internally for me. I was on life support. This is part of my story . A start. It continues as he is in my life as our kids are young. The emotional and psychological abuse continues but I am doing the work to reposition myself. I am taking responsibility for my part in my journey and this is both empowering and exhausting. This abuse is very misunderstood- it is dangerous and invisible. I am learning to believe myself and look to myself for validation and answers. With love

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  • “We believe you. Your stories matter.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    You are loved, and you matter!

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Name

    You hear it all over the news. You see it in films and tv shows. As women, we are often warned, and we hear comments about ‘safety in numbers’ when you go to the toilet. ‘Watch your drinks’ when out and about. ‘Don’t show that much skin, cover up’. ‘You can’t wear that.’ ‘Get a taxi home, it’s not safe to walk’… unfortunately words can not protect you from the intentions of others. I went on a night out with friends, a reunion that started off so well. I remember the dancing, the constant flow of drinks…pints, gin, vodka, sambuca to name a few. Yes, it is not ideal to mix however, when you are reminiscing, and your group had a booth with a table full of drinks; you would probably do the same! Anyway, the lights flashed, the music bounced off the walls and suddenly a trip to the loo mixed with alcohol on a busy autumn international night in Location…makes you forget what floor you left your friends on. Fast forward to the smoking area alone on the phone, where I swayed and debated leaving. “A taxi home would be safer than walking in the rain”. Before I was allowed in, I had to pay by card, he insisted on no cash. I entered the taxi behind the passenger seat in the back and it began. The looks through the rear-view mirror were instant…my memory of the journey is absent until we reach my corner. My directions at this point were now ignored but I trusted him. He parked, away from my house. He locked the car with me still inside. He looked back. “Kiss me”. He had hold of my wrists and climbed through to the back where he began to sexually assault me. I am unsure for how long this lasted but he later broke away and asked to use my toilet. This enabled me to get out of the car so…I said yes. Why I ever thought I could get into my house first in a pair of heels whilst heavily intoxicated I do not know, but even so, I looked back to see how ahead I was…even now I can see him running down that pavement to reach me at my door. In my own home, he was in control. He stole my breath, he stole my voice, he stole my body. He raped me. No one ever prepares you for an event like that, or even how to tell your parents. I went to SARC, I did the forensics and repetitive questions, and I was told it would take years of my life away if I were to take it further. So, I went back to work the following Monday as I had a responsibility to fulfil. It weighed on my shoulders. I knew there was an expectation. Many google searches informed me of my next steps…I made an anonymous complaint to the Police, and everything began to move. Everything became intense…I was living out what felt like a BBC drama. Months later he denied it in court, so we went to trial. The support I received was minimal. I was still working, taking unpaid time off. My close family and friends were those who got me through the days in court, the days in-between and the days I live now. I took away the screen during my time on the stand, I answered every insulting question and remark. I looked him in the eyes, he held eye contact for only a few seconds before breaking into a smirk; as I broke down in the stand. I was torn to pieces in front of a judge, jury and courtroom. In front of him, who proceeded to spin his web of lies which were the complete opposite to the ones he had said in his initial statement. “To be a good liar, one needs a good memory” …He was found guilty. It took 2 weeks for me to be seen as a victim and believed. Fast forward to the sentencing hearing where my main pillars of support accompanied me…I read out my victim impact statement… He got 11 years…a minimum of 8 ½. I got a lifetime sentence, anxiety, depression, dissociation, insomnia, scars and PTSD. February 2024, 2 months after the 1st anniversary; I made my 3rd attempt. A phone call from a friend pulled me back to reality, who later pulled me off the bridge. A mixture of anger, tears and confusion filled the next couple of days, and I knew I needed to take back control of my mind and body. Which is hard when his monstrous hands are imprinted, his poisonous breath echoing in and flooding my ears and the pain weighing heavy on my body. This time I had to do something different. I could not bring myself to hurt anyone else further, so I searched online. I came across The Survivors Trust and after a quick scan through what they had to offer, I instantly thought ‘why wasn’t I told about this sooner?’. Talking can feel repetitive especially when you cannot explain how exactly you are feeling…which is ok in this sense because of their ‘Survivor Resources’. They echo that everyone has a different healing journey and they have sets of resources that have been put together with the survivor in mind…whilst also having a section for those who are looking for help on how to support a survivor they love in their lives. The Survivors Trust then became an outlet for me because even though I am very much at the beginning of my healing journey, I felt responsible and motivated to raise awareness for this charity. No one should ever have to face a traumatic event like this but sadly, the actions of others are something we cannot control. Therefore, I created a Facebook page called ‘Name’ and started promoting my quiz night followed by live music and started a Just Giving Page. I never anticipated a big response; I had a goal of £1000. A goal of raising awareness for the charity, fellow victims and survivors. A goal to inform. The CSEW estimated that 1.1 million adults aged 16 years and over experienced sexual assault in the year ending March 2022 (798,000 women and 275,000 men). 15% of girls and 5% of boys have experienced sexual violence by the time they are sixteen. Every five minutes in the UK someone experiences rape, attempted rape, or sexual assault by penetration. ‘On the face of it, something has to change’ (Prima Facie, 2022). Date he was sentenced. Date 2 I raised a total of Specific amount from site.. People have different opinions on the length of time to which I will be ‘fixed’. “Sometimes, it takes a few days”. A few days, a few weeks; a few months to fully grasp what happened, to trust myself? Living in and out of my own body, not knowing when it is truly me or what is now left. The sleepless nights, the nights that repeat every detail. Every once in a while, my ears go out, ringing as I simply stare into thin air, dissociating and remembering each and every detail without speaking a word. Sometimes it only takes a smell, a name, a piece of clothing, a sound to take me back to these moments. It does not take much to remind the brain of the agony. It’s hard. I float throughout each day, each night, as each aspect of the memory replays every time, I take a second to think…no matter where or who I am with. It is currently day 630…I have finally started EMDR therapy, I am still at times in denial of the events, and I am very much at the beginning of my journey. I am beginning to understand there is no timeframe on healing and with the support of this charity, my close family and name, taking time to self-care and keeping up with my medication is all I can do for now. Everyone is different. Therefore, it is totally natural to heal and deal with trauma in different ways. I work and like to keep busy…some say to avoid/escape the flashbacks but unfortunately, they do not escape me. However, although I have tried many times not to be…I am alive, and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure things change. No one should live in the fear of not being believed. No one should be put into situations where they experience a type of sexual assault. No one should have to go through something they could not control and feel guilty for the rest of their lives. No one should feel alone. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel shame, guilt, embarrassment, regret and the list goes on but I will get there. I am alive today because of the resources and support presented on The Survivors Trust site. My journey is very much at the beginning, and I so wish I knew about this charity sooner. Therefore, this is me giving back as well as letting others know about the charity, not only the victims either…Survivors Trust helps everyone impacted. Raising Amountp is just the start of the work I will be doing for the charity. It is okay to talk, there are people who will believe, who will support in any way they can. Together we are stronger…you do not have to face this battle alone. I have recently continued to share my story and been a listening ear to others on my page Name on Instagram and Facebook. I don't want anyone to ever feel alone in their trauma, in their healing, in their journey. I am far beyond cured. My EMDR therapy has been completed but its like a bomb has gone off...I've accepted what has happened, happened. But it'll forever be part of who I am no matter how many steps forward I take. He gets out in 5 years and is then under watch for 3 years as he is eased back into society - that support has been planned for him. However, if I didn't attempt to take my life 5 times...I would never have been put forward for MH screening by my gp who then referred me for EMDR. I wasn't given any support from SARC or Victim Support - and it's honestly made me feel so defeated yet again by him. Yes, he was found guilty and went to prison in 2023 but I am the one serving the life sentence.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I hope other survivors will do the things that make them happy. Leave situations that no longer serve you. Be kind to yourself. You deserve love.

    Dear reader, this message contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “Healing means forgiving myself for all the things I may have gotten wrong in the moment.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #784

    We went to high school together, the prom, etc. My first love. 9 years after HS graduation we reconnected at a wedding and were married less than a year later. I liked our childhood connection, and how he liked to fix things. Everyone said it was “meant to be.” But there were many red flags. He abused me in every way. Mentally, by undermining my dreams and hopes (telling me I would never finish my degree). Financially, by spending money we didn't have, hiding major purchases from me, quitting jobs impulsively if he was ever “disrespected.” Physically, by spitting on me, shaking me, throwing me down on the floor. He lied to me, called me names, called me fat, threw away my cherished items then mocked me for picking through the garbage to find them. He also cheated on me and gave me an std then denied it saying I must have cheated on him when I hadn’t. He undermined my sense of reality. The tipping point was finding my 13 year old daughter's diary and reading about what she had heard and witnessed when I thought she was asleep. I couldn't raise her or her brothers around this anymore. The hardest thing was navigating custody. He had never once cared for our 3 children by himself–not even for an afternoon. He had connections in both police and social service agencies and was a former CPS worker so accusations of abuse never stuck to him. He dated and briefly married a lawyer so he had free and unlimited legal representation. He neglected our children, drank heavily (he is an alcoholic) and scared them many times with his rage and outbursts. Not being able to shield them from him was and remains the hardest part. My family is Catholic and takes marriage very seriously as do I. Right before I filed for divorce my mom was telling me how things weren't that bad. I told her that she could 1) either ask me to stop talking about my reality with her or 2) accept my reality–but that I would no longer accept her denial of my reality. She heard me, apologized, and has been fully supportive ever since. Please do not assume because someone is a social worker, calls himself an advocate, or a feminist, or even works as an advocate that he lives out these values in private. My ex was given an award by the police department for his work with homeless people the same week that he locked me outside of our house during a tornado (I had to ride it out in my car in the driveway). Obviously knowing that I'm not alone, that even though more than a decade has passed and that I'm very happily married to a kind and loving man, that this pain stays with me. On my children's birthdays I always struggle remembering how he abused me while I was in labor and recovering from childbirth. That is something very hard to share. Speak Your Truth allowed me to not be alone with those memories for the first time.

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  • “It’s always okay to reach out for help”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Breaking Free: Escaping a Narcissist's Grip

    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.

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    For me, healing would mean being able to live a small, careful, quiet life. To feel safety. To be free.

    Dear reader, this message contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇸🇬

    Name's story

    Hi whoever reading this, I’m a victim of online harassment when I was 19 the incident goes like that I was one day scrolling through my Instagram and one day I get a request from this guy and I accepted it since we had a mutual didn’t think much of it even if I replied one minute late he would spam me that same night we video called he made me do stuff I was totally uncomfy with made me bend over or get undressed on that call I didn’t want to do it at the same time I was like nothing could go wrong he kept asking for my Snapchat password since we were sharing pictures and I told him I was tired and wanted to go to bed he said oh just send the password I promise I won’t save anything or any picture and I thought doing this will make him leave me alone and so i did I think I blocked him on WhatsApp but not on Instagram or Snapchat coz I forgot to do that I think one day I was on a family trip and I fell sick he texted me but I didn’t repspond coz I was sick and then came the message “I’ll have your nudes I’ll share them okay?” And with that message came an attached pictures that he saved on his phone of my nudes the thing is I wouldn’t take pictures of my face when I sent stuff like that but he saved pictures normal mirror selfies I took that showed my face I texted him coz I was sooo scared I took my phone to the bathroom my mom thought I was puking and what not he told me if I didn’t do what he said he would leak those pictures so I did what he made me unblock him on WhatsApp (I said something like oh u weren’t talking to me that’s y I blocked u for some sympathy) he made me gave him my passwords for all my social media accounts he made me get nude on a video call and insert a toothbrush in me I didn’t want to but he was blackmailing me so I did it after that when I told a friend of mine I was advised to block him which i did I came back home from the trip I redownloaded my telegram app same text “Y did u block me do what I say” “I’ll share those pictures on the internet okay?” I blocked him again and then a few months later I get a text from the same country code and the same emoji “🩺 “ in the bio I blocked that number too he’s studying medicine and I know his Uni name since he has it on his Instagram bio. I’m still healing from it I have so much anxiety whenever I think about it I live in this constant fear that he might leak them or already leaked them I wish I could go back in time and just stopped myself from giving that password I wouldn’t be dealing with it maybe if I thought enough I wouldn’t be in this situation but I took steps which were: blocking him everywhere Deleted my snap chat and telegram And also deleted my Instagram account I told my friends to not question the block this guy and they did and after I deleted my account I made an new one first thing I did we blocked him

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇹

    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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  • “Healing to me means that all these things that happened don’t have to define me.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇬

    There is still hope…. Dont give up

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Life in

    I've suffered sexual, physical and emotional abuse in not one but two relationships in my life.......It began back in Date I'd come out of a long-term relationship of 5yrs and probably on the rebound (although I didn't think that at the time as a tender 23yr old) met a guy in our local pub. He seemed nice enough and we entered into a relationship. Soon though the signs appeared, gaslighting, name calling, eroding my self-esteem. I stupidly ignored the signs and continued in the relationship, even marrying him! The night before we were due to be married I was in floods of tears but his sister said it was probably just pre-wedding nerves (no-one knew how I was suffering at his hands) I should've called it off, kicked him out of MY house and got on my life, but you become so embroiled in everything, and it becomes 'normal' to feel scared, anxious and dependant on this person, totally alienated from friends, family and anyone who wasn't 'him'. I was controlled monetarily, emotionally in every aspect of my life, how I dressed, where I went, how much money I spent and became increasingly isolated and DEPENDANT on him! I was working a full time job earning more than him, but couldn't spend a penny without checking with him first, and I stupidly went along with it. I received phone calls and text pretty much all the time checking where I was, with whom, what I was doing, I was CONTROLLED. The abuse happened regularly emotional, physical, mental and financial but I was so scared and lost......I FEARED him and became like a cornered animal with nowhere to turn. When our daughter turned 2 I finally realised that I had to get out, I didn't want her to think this was what a relationship looked like. That was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life! After 9yrs I was free, but was I? No, the emotional scars ran very deep and I was a shadow of the person I once was, I was petrified of everything, but I had a child who relied on me. I bought my own house, divorced him and tried to adapt to my new life............ Fast forward to the end of another failed marriage nearly a decade ago, I'm in my late 40's by now, own my own home, work, own a car etc, but sadly lacking in friends I'd lost them all years before and the few remaining were all married so I joined a dating website and matched with a man who I'd known years ago as a teenager. We started a relationship. This man stripped away everything I'd rebuilt, he tormented me, followed me, abused me, he'd turn up in supermarkets when I was shopping. I'd entered into another nightmare situation, but occasionally I fought back, literally!! I'd stupidly given him a key to my house, and if I tried to end things he'd let himself in, hound me with phone calls, flowers, the usual tactics abusers turn to. I couldn't even look out of the car windows on journeys as I'd be accused of 'looking' at men! One night though, he thought he'd killed me, he pushed me on a night out and my head hit the pavement hard, I was so dazed I laid there, not sure whether I lost consciousness We spent 10 months together, and then he collapsed and died on my bedroom floor at 50yrs old, and God forgive me, but I was free! He wouldn't ever harass me again, he was gone............And this time I was free, totally free. And that is my story, without the hideous details of the level of abuse I suffered as no-one needs to read all the details, it triggers me even now thinking back, but I survived, I'm still recovering and always will be, but I'm now 55, married to the love of my life, my soulmate, my safe place.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    It Ended With Us. A Journey of Hope.

    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.

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  • We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Domestic Violence doesn't have an age.

    That unbearable and stubborn silence all started as early as age fifteen. It was a silence so reluctant to be heard that I thought it was worth the suffering until the age eighteen. I am now twenty-two years old and I am here to say to you that YOU ARE HEARD. I BELIEVE YOU and THAT BREAK THROUGH IS RIGHT AROUNG THE CORNER. My partner was fifteen as well when the abuse started. Many find that unbelievable but sickness and evil doesn't have an age. Sickness lies within the person that has endured it themselves or for God knows why...There is not one valid excuse for emotional, physical or mental abuse. The abuse didn't start abruptly, it didn't start off with broken bones, bruises and cuts... The abuse started mentally and emotionally. Something as small as him telling me what I could and could not wear. The jealousy of another guy looking at me or myself looking at another guy. His comments and remarks that I was secretly proud of because I felt as if I was something he didn't want to lose, until later I found out I was something he wanted ownership over. Over these few years leading up until my high school graduation the abuse escalated from verbal to physical swiftly. However, there were many times I made excuses for him because I "loved" him and he "loved" me . For every hit. For every slap. For every punch. I forgave him and I believed his "I won't do it again." Not to sound like a broken record but if you didn't know; they always do it again. There were many occasions where I'd hide my black eyes with piled of foundation and powder. One thing I learned is; it's hard to hide a busted lip. I'd cry my eyes out to sleep until my eyes felt like sandpaper. Physical , mental and emotional abuse eventually put me into a state I couldn't describe until the age I am now. The word I associated my trauma with is disassociation . A physical feeling of being in the present but my mind was elsewhere. I suffered this for so long and never spoke up. My fear of being caught dead because I spoke up for help buried all of these emotions of anger, resentment, betrayal etc. I ended up losing my virginity to this boy. Not purposely but out of fear. That has been my biggest regret ever because virginity was something so precious to me... More than often I'd be forced to have sex with him every time or the threat of being punched in my face and beat. This went on months until I couldn't hide the fact that I was literally breaking not just emotional but physical. At the young age of fifteen, he punched me one time and broke my jaw. After the fact he threatened me with a gun. Where does a fifteen year old even get a gun from? Undergoing surgery was definitely something I couldn't hide from anyone. The fear of speaking up overcame me so much until there was no more hiding or lying could do. When I woke up after that surgery the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach is indescribable. I was more than broken. My mouth was wired shut for 30 days. No solid foods. No birthday cake. I spent my seventeenth birthday with my entire mouth wired shut with brackets and rubber bands. Fast forward, I continued to stay because of the threats of exposing secrete naked pictures he'd taken of me while I wasn't looking and threats of killing me. Hell, he threatened me with a gun; was I supposed to think he was lying about actually killing me? I can count the times he's broken into my parent's home woke me out of my sleep. I can count the times he's punched me while driving my car. The abuse got worse and the more I stayed the harder it was to hide once again. At the age of seventeen after he beat me, he raped me. This time I completely lost myself. I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to breathe. I thought I had it bad then until I found out I was pregnant... I absolutely was numb during that entire time he forced himself inside of me. I couldn't feel a thing until the doctor walked in and told me those results. I was mortified... I ended up not keeping the baby after a deep talk with my mom and asking God for forgiveness. Now that I look back it was the best thing I could do for myself at the time. I couldn't stand being with him and the fact that I'd carry half of him for nine months would have destroyed me... I shouldn't have shared the news with him but I did. I couldn't believe the fact that I was pregnant because I have endometriosis. A medical condition that makes it difficult to even become pregnant. Of course the threats came that he would expose that I had an abortion if I didn't respond to his text and NO CALLER ID calls... But would leave the part out that his penis actually got hard after beating me , so he raped me. But guess what I did? I stayed. The police didn't believe the threats, there was no way to trace it from the no caller identification. So I continued to stay involved with him for about a year and a half. After I completely dropped him, the threats got worse. The days I feared the most were happening. The following me and chasing me in public places were insane! Eventually he began to create a paper trail for himself. I ended up getting restraining orders placed against him since the age of fifteen but do you think that stopped him? There would be calls all day and all night, that I was literally on the edge of losing my insanity. There were many times I begged God take me out of this world...I didn't want to be alive anymore. The harassment had me on edge 24/7... the PTSD was so real. BUT by the grace of God I am here today to say it gets better. I am now twenty-two still trying to figure out how to work through some of these emotions I feel. There are a great amount of good days, but then there are days I question God about my situation at such a young age. I just want you to know that everything is working out for your good. I want you to know you are not ignorant to stay in an abusive relationship due to the fear of losing your life over it. I want you to know that things get worse before they get better and most importantly you are not the person they treated you to be. This is your story and you have the pen and white-out to make it over. I love you- Name & Email

    Dear reader, the following story contains explicit use of homophobic, racist, sexist, or other derogatory language that may be distressing and offensive.

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  • Every step forward, no matter how small, is still a step forwards. Take all the time you need taking those steps.

    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
    🇬🇧

    Not Sleeping soundly

    I look back and am plagued by doubt. It’s less now but still it creeps in - did it happen? Was I too sensitive? Maybe I made too much of it? Have I remembered it wrong? What I know to be true is how I felt and continue to feel when he is mentioned or I see him. FEAR. It’s been 2 years and I still think about if he will like what I am wearing or will have a comment to make. I question my reality - ‘did that happen? Did I say that?’ In lost interactions with him. I met him on line 14 years ago. Things moved quickly, ish. I didn’t see it then but looking back he was ALWAYS there. He gave his friend keys to my flat and I arrived home with it tidied and reorganized. He thought I was messy and that it was a nice thing to do. I felt utterly overwhelmed and very uncomfortable with this but stayed and thanked him as I was left feeling ungrateful. Interestingly I didn’t introduce him to my friends - in fact I kept him quite separate. I think I knew that I didn’t want them to meet him as something was off and they would probably see it and point it out. Or maybe o was afraid that they wouldn’t see it and wouldn’t point it out so it would make me feel even crazier. He didn’t like how I breathed in his direction in bed. He didn’t like how I fiddled with things. (These all felt ok to change for him……. I really had no self love and held myself with very little worth). The first physical element to the abuse (which I can now name as such) was a confusing incident at the time. He was napping and I woke him and he grabbed me by the throat. I was so shocked and I wanted to run a mile but ended up being told that it was my fault as I woke him too quickly. I was brainwashed already (3 months in). I was hard wired for this though as I had be taught not to trust my instincts - how dangerous this was. I stayed for 12 years, 2 children and gradually faded away. I dreamed of leaving, I said I would over and over and I nearly did once but it took so much courage to do it. I was terrified of the financial implications. I was isolated. I was exhausted. And I did it. He would have ‘waking dreams’ during which he would scream at me, push me, throw things, terrify me but would not remember them in the morning or want to talk about them. He would say ‘ well it wasn’t me, I was asleep’. I went to bed in fear most nights. There were never any bruises you could see but so much had been pulverized internally for me. I was on life support. This is part of my story . A start. It continues as he is in my life as our kids are young. The emotional and psychological abuse continues but I am doing the work to reposition myself. I am taking responsibility for my part in my journey and this is both empowering and exhausting. This abuse is very misunderstood- it is dangerous and invisible. I am learning to believe myself and look to myself for validation and answers. With love

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Name

    You hear it all over the news. You see it in films and tv shows. As women, we are often warned, and we hear comments about ‘safety in numbers’ when you go to the toilet. ‘Watch your drinks’ when out and about. ‘Don’t show that much skin, cover up’. ‘You can’t wear that.’ ‘Get a taxi home, it’s not safe to walk’… unfortunately words can not protect you from the intentions of others. I went on a night out with friends, a reunion that started off so well. I remember the dancing, the constant flow of drinks…pints, gin, vodka, sambuca to name a few. Yes, it is not ideal to mix however, when you are reminiscing, and your group had a booth with a table full of drinks; you would probably do the same! Anyway, the lights flashed, the music bounced off the walls and suddenly a trip to the loo mixed with alcohol on a busy autumn international night in Location…makes you forget what floor you left your friends on. Fast forward to the smoking area alone on the phone, where I swayed and debated leaving. “A taxi home would be safer than walking in the rain”. Before I was allowed in, I had to pay by card, he insisted on no cash. I entered the taxi behind the passenger seat in the back and it began. The looks through the rear-view mirror were instant…my memory of the journey is absent until we reach my corner. My directions at this point were now ignored but I trusted him. He parked, away from my house. He locked the car with me still inside. He looked back. “Kiss me”. He had hold of my wrists and climbed through to the back where he began to sexually assault me. I am unsure for how long this lasted but he later broke away and asked to use my toilet. This enabled me to get out of the car so…I said yes. Why I ever thought I could get into my house first in a pair of heels whilst heavily intoxicated I do not know, but even so, I looked back to see how ahead I was…even now I can see him running down that pavement to reach me at my door. In my own home, he was in control. He stole my breath, he stole my voice, he stole my body. He raped me. No one ever prepares you for an event like that, or even how to tell your parents. I went to SARC, I did the forensics and repetitive questions, and I was told it would take years of my life away if I were to take it further. So, I went back to work the following Monday as I had a responsibility to fulfil. It weighed on my shoulders. I knew there was an expectation. Many google searches informed me of my next steps…I made an anonymous complaint to the Police, and everything began to move. Everything became intense…I was living out what felt like a BBC drama. Months later he denied it in court, so we went to trial. The support I received was minimal. I was still working, taking unpaid time off. My close family and friends were those who got me through the days in court, the days in-between and the days I live now. I took away the screen during my time on the stand, I answered every insulting question and remark. I looked him in the eyes, he held eye contact for only a few seconds before breaking into a smirk; as I broke down in the stand. I was torn to pieces in front of a judge, jury and courtroom. In front of him, who proceeded to spin his web of lies which were the complete opposite to the ones he had said in his initial statement. “To be a good liar, one needs a good memory” …He was found guilty. It took 2 weeks for me to be seen as a victim and believed. Fast forward to the sentencing hearing where my main pillars of support accompanied me…I read out my victim impact statement… He got 11 years…a minimum of 8 ½. I got a lifetime sentence, anxiety, depression, dissociation, insomnia, scars and PTSD. February 2024, 2 months after the 1st anniversary; I made my 3rd attempt. A phone call from a friend pulled me back to reality, who later pulled me off the bridge. A mixture of anger, tears and confusion filled the next couple of days, and I knew I needed to take back control of my mind and body. Which is hard when his monstrous hands are imprinted, his poisonous breath echoing in and flooding my ears and the pain weighing heavy on my body. This time I had to do something different. I could not bring myself to hurt anyone else further, so I searched online. I came across The Survivors Trust and after a quick scan through what they had to offer, I instantly thought ‘why wasn’t I told about this sooner?’. Talking can feel repetitive especially when you cannot explain how exactly you are feeling…which is ok in this sense because of their ‘Survivor Resources’. They echo that everyone has a different healing journey and they have sets of resources that have been put together with the survivor in mind…whilst also having a section for those who are looking for help on how to support a survivor they love in their lives. The Survivors Trust then became an outlet for me because even though I am very much at the beginning of my healing journey, I felt responsible and motivated to raise awareness for this charity. No one should ever have to face a traumatic event like this but sadly, the actions of others are something we cannot control. Therefore, I created a Facebook page called ‘Name’ and started promoting my quiz night followed by live music and started a Just Giving Page. I never anticipated a big response; I had a goal of £1000. A goal of raising awareness for the charity, fellow victims and survivors. A goal to inform. The CSEW estimated that 1.1 million adults aged 16 years and over experienced sexual assault in the year ending March 2022 (798,000 women and 275,000 men). 15% of girls and 5% of boys have experienced sexual violence by the time they are sixteen. Every five minutes in the UK someone experiences rape, attempted rape, or sexual assault by penetration. ‘On the face of it, something has to change’ (Prima Facie, 2022). Date he was sentenced. Date 2 I raised a total of Specific amount from site.. People have different opinions on the length of time to which I will be ‘fixed’. “Sometimes, it takes a few days”. A few days, a few weeks; a few months to fully grasp what happened, to trust myself? Living in and out of my own body, not knowing when it is truly me or what is now left. The sleepless nights, the nights that repeat every detail. Every once in a while, my ears go out, ringing as I simply stare into thin air, dissociating and remembering each and every detail without speaking a word. Sometimes it only takes a smell, a name, a piece of clothing, a sound to take me back to these moments. It does not take much to remind the brain of the agony. It’s hard. I float throughout each day, each night, as each aspect of the memory replays every time, I take a second to think…no matter where or who I am with. It is currently day 630…I have finally started EMDR therapy, I am still at times in denial of the events, and I am very much at the beginning of my journey. I am beginning to understand there is no timeframe on healing and with the support of this charity, my close family and name, taking time to self-care and keeping up with my medication is all I can do for now. Everyone is different. Therefore, it is totally natural to heal and deal with trauma in different ways. I work and like to keep busy…some say to avoid/escape the flashbacks but unfortunately, they do not escape me. However, although I have tried many times not to be…I am alive, and I am going to do everything in my power to make sure things change. No one should live in the fear of not being believed. No one should be put into situations where they experience a type of sexual assault. No one should have to go through something they could not control and feel guilty for the rest of their lives. No one should feel alone. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel shame, guilt, embarrassment, regret and the list goes on but I will get there. I am alive today because of the resources and support presented on The Survivors Trust site. My journey is very much at the beginning, and I so wish I knew about this charity sooner. Therefore, this is me giving back as well as letting others know about the charity, not only the victims either…Survivors Trust helps everyone impacted. Raising Amountp is just the start of the work I will be doing for the charity. It is okay to talk, there are people who will believe, who will support in any way they can. Together we are stronger…you do not have to face this battle alone. I have recently continued to share my story and been a listening ear to others on my page Name on Instagram and Facebook. I don't want anyone to ever feel alone in their trauma, in their healing, in their journey. I am far beyond cured. My EMDR therapy has been completed but its like a bomb has gone off...I've accepted what has happened, happened. But it'll forever be part of who I am no matter how many steps forward I take. He gets out in 5 years and is then under watch for 3 years as he is eased back into society - that support has been planned for him. However, if I didn't attempt to take my life 5 times...I would never have been put forward for MH screening by my gp who then referred me for EMDR. I wasn't given any support from SARC or Victim Support - and it's honestly made me feel so defeated yet again by him. Yes, he was found guilty and went to prison in 2023 but I am the one serving the life sentence.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    Breaking Free: Escaping a Narcissist's Grip

    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.

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  • Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇮🇹

    Heal to me would it be trust someone again without fear

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇬

    There is still hope…. Dont give up

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    It Ended With Us. A Journey of Hope.

    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.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #1842

    I was 6 the first time I was raped. It went on for nearly a decade. The worst thing about incest Is there access that the perpetrator has to you. You can’t escape and so you are always living in terror. When I was 7, I was gang raped by a group of teenage boys. It was incredibly violent and terrifying. I remember sitting outside after I finally got myself untied. I was afraid to go home because I didn’t want my abuser to find out that his “property” has been used by someone else, but I couldn’t think of a single person to go to, so I didn’t tell anyone for another 30 years. At 8, I was molested by a neighbor. During these outside abuses, I was still being raped at home. That ended when I was 13. The next 3 years were some of my happiest years. I was finally not being abused! During that time, the PTSD caused me to develop a heart condition and an eating disorder but I felt free! That all changed when I was 16 and met my first boyfriend. He began sexually abusing me a few months into our relationship. He left on an LDS mission and spent the mission stalking me from a distance. I started dating another boy who was emotionally abusive. The next boyfriend would slap me and tell me how stupid I was. I just couldn’t get it right. Then I met my husband. I married him when I was 19 years old. He is kind and gentle with me and I felt like I had finally found safety… Then his brother started sexual harassing me. This happened for years. Eventually, he sexually assaulted me. I told my husband everyone it would happen. He never did anything to help me. I had been seeing my therapist for 13 years when he started acting flirtatious. He was getting a divorce from his wife who I later found out was a patient of his. I got out of that situation quick. I was in my 30s, attending graduate school to become a therapist when the next sexual assault happened. It was a family friend in his 60s. He told me one day that he was very sick and wanted me to stop by. I went to his house to check in and he locked me in his room and sexually assaulted me. Afterward, he threatened me with a lawsuit and threatened my husband’s career, as he knew my husband’s boss. I was so scared and felt like I needed a week of school to pull myself back together. I explained to my professors what had happened. One of them forwarded my email to the administration of the college who then tried to force me out. They told me: “since you got assaulted, we can no longer support you in our program.” Just a reminder, this was a graduate program to become a therapist! It was disguising that they would try to through me out, blaming me for the assault! When I tried to push back on their actions, they threatened me with layers from the university. In the end, I won and became a therapist. At this pointing in my life, I had experienced so much abuse, rape, violence, and trauma but I had held it together, becoming a mom, earning 3 college degrees, working many jobs and helping my husband run a business were started in the side. I didn’t realize that everything I had been through was going to hit me like a freight train. I was worrying at a hospital as a therapist, co-facilitating an IOP group when one of my clients decided they were going to kill me, the other clients in the group and themselves by committing a mass shooting. This client told someone of their plans and we were warned the morning it was to happen. I was forced by hospital administrators and police to stay in the office where the person would be coming for 2 hours. The person was located by SWAT a few blocks from the hospital with a stock pile of weapons. I kind of snapped after that. My body started giving out. My mental health issues got a lot worse. I could no longer function. I started seeing another therapist. She was so kind and loving toward me. I adored her and felt like I was starting to heal some of the wounds that had been festering for decades. She was the one to initiate physical contact. I’ve been afraid of being touched most of my life so when she started touching me, it was scary. It was very innocent, hugs or a pat on the arm. It started to feel reassuring and comforting. Then she started getting angry at me. I would mention texting a friend she didn’t want me talking to or talk about wanting to change my hairstyle. She would berate me for the rest of the session, making me feel like I was bad for saying the wrong thing. Then she would lovebomb me sitting the next session. It was intoxicating. This went on for years. It got to the point where she was always touching me. She would touch me even when I didn’t want her to touch me. It was incredibly inappropriate! When she would get mad at me, which was often, she would demand that I apologize profusely. She owned me. She broke me down to nothing. She isolated me from friends and family. I was so depressed and anxious and confused. I believed her, that I was trash. Last year, I became very sick and when I told her I would be going to a clinic to get help, she lost it. Filled with jealous rage, she lashed out at me. Something in me found the strength to walk away. It was one year ago this month that I saw her last. I feel as I am nothing. I currently am mostly bed bound, unable to leave the safety of my room, unable to interact with other humans, completely terrified to live a meaningful life. I am so scared. I wish I could say that I found my way and am healing but the truth is, I’ve experienced too much. I don’t know that I’m ever find myself again. Some wounds are too deep to heal. My body is falling apart. My mind is obliterated. I don’t know if there is hope. Thank you for reading my story. It means more to me than I can ever express.

    Dear reader, this story contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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

    You are surviving and that is enough.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #870

    I survived. I got out. You can too. Insidious and devious are the words I think of when I've wondered how I got trapped. My ex-spouse was so charming, everybody thought he was a great person and I did too. So much so that I decided to ignore the fact he raped me and chalked it up to us drinking. Then gradually as we dated and then married he tried to spin a web of control around me by being angry and violent when I would spend time with friends or go to the gym or go to the library to study. Telling me I was not allowed to go to the gym because there were men there. Being told I couldn't go to work events. Calling my work when I was working late and accusing me of having affairs, then being verbally and physically abusive. He was so successful at manipulating others even my dad, initially, didn't believe me when I told him about the monster and the horrible things I had endured. I finally told my dad what had been going on when he threatened to kill me and chased me with a baseball bat. I was able to get in my car and get away and called my dad crying and screaming. He thought I had lost my mind. Some of my friends also thought I had lost it, and told me oh he is so nice and scoffed when I said I was filing for divorce and a protective order. After the first two calls to the sheriff they believed me and were so kind, frequently driving by my house and making sure I was safe. There is power in being believed. There is strength in knowing that others have made it out both alive and eventually became whole. I still experience occasional flashbacks and certain situations will trigger my anxiety, but I am able to trust people again and no longer fear "being in trouble" if I spend time with friends. Even more, I have allowed myself to become emotionally vulnerable with other people again after all these years. That was a huge leap for me. And I genuinely feel like a good person again.

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  • “We believe you. Your stories matter.”

    Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I hope other survivors will do the things that make them happy. Leave situations that no longer serve you. Be kind to yourself. You deserve love.

    Dear reader, this message contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “Healing means forgiving myself for all the things I may have gotten wrong in the moment.”

    “It’s always okay to reach out for help”

    Message of Healing
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    For me, healing would mean being able to live a small, careful, quiet life. To feel safety. To be free.

    Dear reader, this message contains language of self-harm that some may find triggering or discomforting.

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  • “Healing to me means that all these things that happened don’t have to define me.”

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇬🇧

    Life in

    I've suffered sexual, physical and emotional abuse in not one but two relationships in my life.......It began back in Date I'd come out of a long-term relationship of 5yrs and probably on the rebound (although I didn't think that at the time as a tender 23yr old) met a guy in our local pub. He seemed nice enough and we entered into a relationship. Soon though the signs appeared, gaslighting, name calling, eroding my self-esteem. I stupidly ignored the signs and continued in the relationship, even marrying him! The night before we were due to be married I was in floods of tears but his sister said it was probably just pre-wedding nerves (no-one knew how I was suffering at his hands) I should've called it off, kicked him out of MY house and got on my life, but you become so embroiled in everything, and it becomes 'normal' to feel scared, anxious and dependant on this person, totally alienated from friends, family and anyone who wasn't 'him'. I was controlled monetarily, emotionally in every aspect of my life, how I dressed, where I went, how much money I spent and became increasingly isolated and DEPENDANT on him! I was working a full time job earning more than him, but couldn't spend a penny without checking with him first, and I stupidly went along with it. I received phone calls and text pretty much all the time checking where I was, with whom, what I was doing, I was CONTROLLED. The abuse happened regularly emotional, physical, mental and financial but I was so scared and lost......I FEARED him and became like a cornered animal with nowhere to turn. When our daughter turned 2 I finally realised that I had to get out, I didn't want her to think this was what a relationship looked like. That was the hardest decision I've ever made in my life! After 9yrs I was free, but was I? No, the emotional scars ran very deep and I was a shadow of the person I once was, I was petrified of everything, but I had a child who relied on me. I bought my own house, divorced him and tried to adapt to my new life............ Fast forward to the end of another failed marriage nearly a decade ago, I'm in my late 40's by now, own my own home, work, own a car etc, but sadly lacking in friends I'd lost them all years before and the few remaining were all married so I joined a dating website and matched with a man who I'd known years ago as a teenager. We started a relationship. This man stripped away everything I'd rebuilt, he tormented me, followed me, abused me, he'd turn up in supermarkets when I was shopping. I'd entered into another nightmare situation, but occasionally I fought back, literally!! I'd stupidly given him a key to my house, and if I tried to end things he'd let himself in, hound me with phone calls, flowers, the usual tactics abusers turn to. I couldn't even look out of the car windows on journeys as I'd be accused of 'looking' at men! One night though, he thought he'd killed me, he pushed me on a night out and my head hit the pavement hard, I was so dazed I laid there, not sure whether I lost consciousness We spent 10 months together, and then he collapsed and died on my bedroom floor at 50yrs old, and God forgive me, but I was free! He wouldn't ever harass me again, he was gone............And this time I was free, totally free. And that is my story, without the hideous details of the level of abuse I suffered as no-one needs to read all the details, it triggers me even now thinking back, but I survived, I'm still recovering and always will be, but I'm now 55, married to the love of my life, my soulmate, my safe place.

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  • We all have the ability to be allies and support the survivors in our lives.

    Every step forward, no matter how small, is still a step forwards. Take all the time you need taking those steps.

    Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    I learned the hard way, but I survived! I’ll be smarter and stronger going forward!

    My name is Name, I’m an indigenous person from Place, USA. I’m a daughter, sister, mother, and a Survivor. I never really thought that I would end up in the relationships I ended up in but, here I am sharing my story! The last 12 years of my life I had been in and out of relationships, had two sons out of two of those relationships. They are the best parts of those relationships and times in my life. I know they in some way saved me and helped me survive to be here today sharing. My last two relationships I were in, were the worst abusive relationships. My youngest son came out of one of them, and to this day I still have to deal with one of my abusers because we have a child together. In that relationship I was physically, emotionally, mentally, financially, and sexually abused. I went through things that I didn’t even know that happened until the next day or days after. My ex we can call him Nameabused me mostly when he was already drunk, it was always when we were drinking that he would start arguments with me or his jealousy would come out more. Little did I know that at one time he had sexually assaulted me while I had passed out from drinking and when I woke up asking if something happened; something didn’t feel right. Nametold me “yeah you don’t remember?” And clearly I had no clue but according to him “I wanted it!” But how could I even know that or even say “yes” to anything being passed out. This was the first time he raped me but it wasn’t the last. Nameand I were in a relationship for 3 1/2 years in that time he physically would hurt me, force himself on me or take advantage of me while I was sleeping . It became unsettling to sleep at night knowing something might happen. At that time I was also taking care of my oldest son from a previous marriage and my youngest who was a baby on top of working full time. So I was exhausted from everything. I used to wake up to either text messages saying how worthless I was or name calling me because I had fallen asleep and not awake when he would get home. Or I would wake up to him yelling at me because I was defending myself in my sleep as he was trying to sexually assault me. Everything became my fault according to him. It was so dysfunctional, that at that time I was even drinking heavily. The pandemic hit and that was the beginning of the end of our relationship, I was so exhausted, depressed, just at the point of breaking! Our last fight ended with him calling the police on me and turning the narrative like I was the aggressor because he had spammed me on the ground and was hurting me, I defended myself, I felt so misunderstood and betrayed especially when the police wouldn’t let me speak and listen to me. I know now I’m not the only woman this has happened to in domestic violence situations. I take that as that was my way out yeah I got booked, finger printed and had charges which in the end Namedidn’t want either for me because he knew I didn’t do anything. In his words he just called them to “calm me down” he honestly thought I would go back to him after that NOPE! That was the end of it my freedom from him, with my sons. At that time I thought I would never get back into a relationship like that again, I knew the signs; I thought I knew it all! BOY was I wrong! My life at that time was spiraling out of control, I was lost but yet still thinking that I was completely mentally okay! I was dating and still drinking, I was rebellious at that time. It was almost a year later that I ended up meeting my last abuser, the one that almost ended my life! They say something you repeat things until you learn the lesson and I sure did that! This guy was handsome, charming, everything I ever wanted in a guy or so I thought! I’ll call him Name for the purpose of privacy reasons, but he really put on a great performance and mask! He was a small business owner and he made himself seem like he was down on his luck. He used the fact that I was previously in an abusive relationship as away to get close to me and give me false promises. Name promised me the entire world, I was “the best thing to ever happen to him!” And he was going to treat me the way I always should’ve been treated. Things went very fast for us when we first met. Our first meeting he was already referring me as his girlfriend. At the time I thought it was just so sweet and I felt like I was dreaming. For the first two months our relationship was amazing, he was good with my sons, and my family liked him. But at that point he definitely showed me a side of him that I didn’t like his jealousy. He made it clear that I couldn’t tapk to anyone of the opposite sex or have friends that were either. He slowly cut me off from everyone and everything! I quit my job because he told me to in the end and that I would be better working for him. Which that was a huge mistake! He and I were together 24/7 and it got to the point that where he started to verbally abuse me; his words were hurtful! He would tell me if I just listened and he obeyed him then none of it would happen but if I counted to be “bad” then he would continue to get mad at me. It wasn’t until about 6 months into our relationship is when Name became physically abusive with me. The first time it happened I was completely scared out of my mind, I froze, I was crying but I was told to be quiet or it would be worse. After that every time he would get mad at me I would be physically hurt on top of being verbally, emotionally, mentally, and financially abused. Those were the darkest moments of my life, there were days that I thought I would never get out of it. I felt trapped, and alone. Name made me completely dependent on him and I had to ask him to do anything right down to using the bathroom. I did nothing alone, showering, getting dressed, taking care of myself when it was that time of the month all of it! I was his prisoner! He would refer to me as his “Indian Slave” amount other very racially charged names that were so mean and hateful! He told me that if I ever left he would blackmail me, he kept complete control over me. He got my addicted to substances that I had never even done in my life, even doing drugs I had never even thought I would do! All to keep me under his control! This was a daily thing every day to obey him and if I didn’t then he would get mad for hours even days u til he would get over whatever he was mad at me about and then things would be “normal” for about a day or two then right back into it again. It was a sick cycle! I was exhausted mentally and physically! Survival mode every day is a lot for a person. The last and final time he abused me was complete torture, he tortured me for 3 to 4 hours and in that time He almost took my life! He strangled me to the point I couldn’t breathe, I lost my sight, the ability to see, and hear! I was close to dying! When he finally let go and I came back I knew I had to find away out, after being physically hurt more after that, hours had past he made me fall asleep with him. When we woke up I knew then I had to get my son who was in another room away from me and run! Somehow, someway I did just that, Name tried to hold me son against me not letting me take him, but it was my voice of screaming for my son that I was able to pick him up and run into the woods with him. It was the only thing I could think of to do and doing that with the clothes I had on and the clothes my son (youngest) had on I saved our lives, I ran to safety I knew the way I was going that the police station would be there. That was the motivation for me to keep going, thankfully someone had seen me with my son running and they called the police along with others who had called before, letting them know “hey this woman and child need help!” And they did I managed to make it on the main road and I was scared walking looking around hoping that Name wouldn’t drive up and try to take us or worse run us over, I almost asked someone for help but it was at that moment that I had looked up and saw the police coming right at me! I was all kinds of emotions, happy, sad, sacred, relieved! I told them what happened and I’m so glad I did as scary as it was to speak up it was the best decision I made for myself and my youngest son my oldest son thankfully want there at the time. But I knew that this was the time that I either needed to smarten up or I was going to end up not being here! I finally said to myself I learned my lesson and now I must truly, truly that this serious and heal from this and take a good look at myself so that this doesn’t happen to me again in any relationship. That was just over two years ago now and my abuser has been in prison for what he did to me, he got sentenced to 9 years, but he only has to do 5 years then he can get put on probation with speculations if he violates that then he goes back to prison for 4 years. I am one of three women that he has abused, I was the third one to speak out and the first one to put him prison for domestic violence. I’m in therapy and counseling for all the abuse I’ve been through and have been single since this all happened I’m taking my time, being smart about it all not rushing anything. I also will always speak out and share my story to help others because no one deserves to be treated this way! This wasn’t love! Love isn’t supposed to hurt like that or almost get one killed over it! So if my story can help others I’ll always continue to share. Thank you for letting me share this on here for others!

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    A Lifetime

    I grew up in violence- my neighborhood, my school, my home. I grew up with constant insults and indignities because of poverty and a violent brother. So when I met Jack when I was 22 and he was a bully, dismissive, insulting and emotionally difficult for me, it all felt normal. But, as I got older I knew I had to get away from him. He limited my relationships and always found ways to subvert my work while belittling me for not keeping jobs. I tried to leave many time but he bulleyed, frightened, pleaded, coerced, apologized, threatened until I took him back. Then when I was 68 and he was 69 he left to have a “selfish bucket list fling” with a former girlfriend. He expected to come back after 2 months. He didn’t believe me that I was divorcing him and signed the papers without reading them. It has been 2 1/2 years and I am still fighting the battle in court to actually get the court ordered alimony that is coming to me. I am not homeless. In fact I live in the home we bought and remodeled. I have a very good life. He had me convinced that I would be back in poverty if it were not for him. I feel more well off than I ever did with him. Plus, his negativity, meanness, and general bad behavior are out of my life at last. I wish I had had the courage and strength to leave years ago and save myself and my children from his abuse. But I am happy to heal my relationships with the people I love who he kept away from me for all those years.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    You are not alone. Keep fighting. You are a survivor.

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  • Message of Hope
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    You are loved, and you matter!

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  • Story
    From a survivor
    🇺🇸

    #784

    We went to high school together, the prom, etc. My first love. 9 years after HS graduation we reconnected at a wedding and were married less than a year later. I liked our childhood connection, and how he liked to fix things. Everyone said it was “meant to be.” But there were many red flags. He abused me in every way. Mentally, by undermining my dreams and hopes (telling me I would never finish my degree). Financially, by spending money we didn't have, hiding major purchases from me, quitting jobs impulsively if he was ever “disrespected.” Physically, by spitting on me, shaking me, throwing me down on the floor. He lied to me, called me names, called me fat, threw away my cherished items then mocked me for picking through the garbage to find them. He also cheated on me and gave me an std then denied it saying I must have cheated on him when I hadn’t. He undermined my sense of reality. The tipping point was finding my 13 year old daughter's diary and reading about what she had heard and witnessed when I thought she was asleep. I couldn't raise her or her brothers around this anymore. The hardest thing was navigating custody. He had never once cared for our 3 children by himself–not even for an afternoon. He had connections in both police and social service agencies and was a former CPS worker so accusations of abuse never stuck to him. He dated and briefly married a lawyer so he had free and unlimited legal representation. He neglected our children, drank heavily (he is an alcoholic) and scared them many times with his rage and outbursts. Not being able to shield them from him was and remains the hardest part. My family is Catholic and takes marriage very seriously as do I. Right before I filed for divorce my mom was telling me how things weren't that bad. I told her that she could 1) either ask me to stop talking about my reality with her or 2) accept my reality–but that I would no longer accept her denial of my reality. She heard me, apologized, and has been fully supportive ever since. Please do not assume because someone is a social worker, calls himself an advocate, or a feminist, or even works as an advocate that he lives out these values in private. My ex was given an award by the police department for his work with homeless people the same week that he locked me outside of our house during a tornado (I had to ride it out in my car in the driveway). Obviously knowing that I'm not alone, that even though more than a decade has passed and that I'm very happily married to a kind and loving man, that this pain stays with me. On my children's birthdays I always struggle remembering how he abused me while I was in labor and recovering from childbirth. That is something very hard to share. Speak Your Truth allowed me to not be alone with those memories for the first time.

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  • Story
    From a survivor
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    Name's story

    Hi whoever reading this, I’m a victim of online harassment when I was 19 the incident goes like that I was one day scrolling through my Instagram and one day I get a request from this guy and I accepted it since we had a mutual didn’t think much of it even if I replied one minute late he would spam me that same night we video called he made me do stuff I was totally uncomfy with made me bend over or get undressed on that call I didn’t want to do it at the same time I was like nothing could go wrong he kept asking for my Snapchat password since we were sharing pictures and I told him I was tired and wanted to go to bed he said oh just send the password I promise I won’t save anything or any picture and I thought doing this will make him leave me alone and so i did I think I blocked him on WhatsApp but not on Instagram or Snapchat coz I forgot to do that I think one day I was on a family trip and I fell sick he texted me but I didn’t repspond coz I was sick and then came the message “I’ll have your nudes I’ll share them okay?” And with that message came an attached pictures that he saved on his phone of my nudes the thing is I wouldn’t take pictures of my face when I sent stuff like that but he saved pictures normal mirror selfies I took that showed my face I texted him coz I was sooo scared I took my phone to the bathroom my mom thought I was puking and what not he told me if I didn’t do what he said he would leak those pictures so I did what he made me unblock him on WhatsApp (I said something like oh u weren’t talking to me that’s y I blocked u for some sympathy) he made me gave him my passwords for all my social media accounts he made me get nude on a video call and insert a toothbrush in me I didn’t want to but he was blackmailing me so I did it after that when I told a friend of mine I was advised to block him which i did I came back home from the trip I redownloaded my telegram app same text “Y did u block me do what I say” “I’ll share those pictures on the internet okay?” I blocked him again and then a few months later I get a text from the same country code and the same emoji “🩺 “ in the bio I blocked that number too he’s studying medicine and I know his Uni name since he has it on his Instagram bio. I’m still healing from it I have so much anxiety whenever I think about it I live in this constant fear that he might leak them or already leaked them I wish I could go back in time and just stopped myself from giving that password I wouldn’t be dealing with it maybe if I thought enough I wouldn’t be in this situation but I took steps which were: blocking him everywhere Deleted my snap chat and telegram And also deleted my Instagram account I told my friends to not question the block this guy and they did and after I deleted my account I made an new one first thing I did we blocked him

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    From a survivor
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    Domestic Violence doesn't have an age.

    That unbearable and stubborn silence all started as early as age fifteen. It was a silence so reluctant to be heard that I thought it was worth the suffering until the age eighteen. I am now twenty-two years old and I am here to say to you that YOU ARE HEARD. I BELIEVE YOU and THAT BREAK THROUGH IS RIGHT AROUNG THE CORNER. My partner was fifteen as well when the abuse started. Many find that unbelievable but sickness and evil doesn't have an age. Sickness lies within the person that has endured it themselves or for God knows why...There is not one valid excuse for emotional, physical or mental abuse. The abuse didn't start abruptly, it didn't start off with broken bones, bruises and cuts... The abuse started mentally and emotionally. Something as small as him telling me what I could and could not wear. The jealousy of another guy looking at me or myself looking at another guy. His comments and remarks that I was secretly proud of because I felt as if I was something he didn't want to lose, until later I found out I was something he wanted ownership over. Over these few years leading up until my high school graduation the abuse escalated from verbal to physical swiftly. However, there were many times I made excuses for him because I "loved" him and he "loved" me . For every hit. For every slap. For every punch. I forgave him and I believed his "I won't do it again." Not to sound like a broken record but if you didn't know; they always do it again. There were many occasions where I'd hide my black eyes with piled of foundation and powder. One thing I learned is; it's hard to hide a busted lip. I'd cry my eyes out to sleep until my eyes felt like sandpaper. Physical , mental and emotional abuse eventually put me into a state I couldn't describe until the age I am now. The word I associated my trauma with is disassociation . A physical feeling of being in the present but my mind was elsewhere. I suffered this for so long and never spoke up. My fear of being caught dead because I spoke up for help buried all of these emotions of anger, resentment, betrayal etc. I ended up losing my virginity to this boy. Not purposely but out of fear. That has been my biggest regret ever because virginity was something so precious to me... More than often I'd be forced to have sex with him every time or the threat of being punched in my face and beat. This went on months until I couldn't hide the fact that I was literally breaking not just emotional but physical. At the young age of fifteen, he punched me one time and broke my jaw. After the fact he threatened me with a gun. Where does a fifteen year old even get a gun from? Undergoing surgery was definitely something I couldn't hide from anyone. The fear of speaking up overcame me so much until there was no more hiding or lying could do. When I woke up after that surgery the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach is indescribable. I was more than broken. My mouth was wired shut for 30 days. No solid foods. No birthday cake. I spent my seventeenth birthday with my entire mouth wired shut with brackets and rubber bands. Fast forward, I continued to stay because of the threats of exposing secrete naked pictures he'd taken of me while I wasn't looking and threats of killing me. Hell, he threatened me with a gun; was I supposed to think he was lying about actually killing me? I can count the times he's broken into my parent's home woke me out of my sleep. I can count the times he's punched me while driving my car. The abuse got worse and the more I stayed the harder it was to hide once again. At the age of seventeen after he beat me, he raped me. This time I completely lost myself. I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to breathe. I thought I had it bad then until I found out I was pregnant... I absolutely was numb during that entire time he forced himself inside of me. I couldn't feel a thing until the doctor walked in and told me those results. I was mortified... I ended up not keeping the baby after a deep talk with my mom and asking God for forgiveness. Now that I look back it was the best thing I could do for myself at the time. I couldn't stand being with him and the fact that I'd carry half of him for nine months would have destroyed me... I shouldn't have shared the news with him but I did. I couldn't believe the fact that I was pregnant because I have endometriosis. A medical condition that makes it difficult to even become pregnant. Of course the threats came that he would expose that I had an abortion if I didn't respond to his text and NO CALLER ID calls... But would leave the part out that his penis actually got hard after beating me , so he raped me. But guess what I did? I stayed. The police didn't believe the threats, there was no way to trace it from the no caller identification. So I continued to stay involved with him for about a year and a half. After I completely dropped him, the threats got worse. The days I feared the most were happening. The following me and chasing me in public places were insane! Eventually he began to create a paper trail for himself. I ended up getting restraining orders placed against him since the age of fifteen but do you think that stopped him? There would be calls all day and all night, that I was literally on the edge of losing my insanity. There were many times I begged God take me out of this world...I didn't want to be alive anymore. The harassment had me on edge 24/7... the PTSD was so real. BUT by the grace of God I am here today to say it gets better. I am now twenty-two still trying to figure out how to work through some of these emotions I feel. There are a great amount of good days, but then there are days I question God about my situation at such a young age. I just want you to know that everything is working out for your good. I want you to know you are not ignorant to stay in an abusive relationship due to the fear of losing your life over it. I want you to know that things get worse before they get better and most importantly you are not the person they treated you to be. This is your story and you have the pen and white-out to make it over. I love you- Name & Email

    Dear reader, the following story contains explicit use of homophobic, racist, sexist, or other derogatory language that may be distressing and offensive.

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    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.

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    Ask yourself the following questions and answer them out loud:

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