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I am Name years old single mom of two beautiful kids ages 10 and 12 years old. I was once a victim of abusement, harassment, assault, defamation, and rudeness of other people when I am just a simple, kind and silent person. Until now, they still look down on me and I don't know what have I done why they hate, angry and so rude to me. They are treating me like I am not an educated person when I am and they keep on look down on me because we are just simple and in a middle class person or family. And they think that they think better than me and I don't have any complain of it but they keep trying to argue with me that I am a better dumb person to them. And it's kind of abusing to think of that way that they think like that to me and that's insult me of my human being. I don't know what to do right now on how to express of this. My family I dont know if they doesn't know about this or they know about this or just hiding from me that they know everything but they really dont agree with me all the time or don't believe in me. What help should I seek for this matter of existence!?

Three beautiful kids later, three houses later, and 10 years later, I finally had the courage to leave.

I'm 71 years old and allowed myself to be abuised for over 20years out of a 36 year marriage. I lost my daughters and grandchildren because of my actions. I've got no one I'm totally alone. I found out that my husband was a drug addict to prescriptions and was a thief and a liar who manipulated everyone around him he was a good guy. I was to busy working raising a family and continued to let this man use me because I loved him. I just realized love shouldn't hurt. He's left our home for years at a time, I've never gone with any one else. I've been raped strangled beaten bruised bloodied ,used money and antiques stolen etc. . I allowed myself to be used over and over why I don't know still don't I thought I loved him because we had a special bond . I was kidding myself and it hurts more than you know. I tried to end my life to get rid of the pain of abuise and failed years ago. Couldn't live with the pain of losing my family. . I'm so alone sitting in a house wasting away waiting to die someday someone will notice by my mail or my dog. What a shame I was a beautiful strong loving wife and mother grandmother to be left this way to die alone and broken because I was abuised I blame , my children for not protecting me,, the courts most of all I blame myself for loving a man and not loving myself more. I need help and I still do.

It ends with us opened my eyes to my teenage relationship. After finding out he was cheating on me and being dragged to his car where he beat me endlessly and then r*ped me for being so mad I caught him. I forgave him because I didn’t want to lose him to her. I finally had the courage to leave after other incidents. Thank you to the movie crew who helped display this in the perfect way. It describes all the emotions you feel perfectly

For years I questioned what I was doing wrong and how someone who loved me could be so comfortable hurting me. But they didn’t hit me so I never looked at it as DV or myself as a victim. Through different type of relationships, it was a revolving door, but they didn’t hit me so I wasn’t a victim. Until my last relationship. In 3 1/2 years, he put his hands on me once, but if I had just let him leave, he wouldn’t have done it. For the longest time, he was planting it into my head that I was the issue. The good times were really good so I overlooked the bad cause I loved him more than I loved myself in that moment. The way he loved my kids (who were not his) also kept me around for a lot longer than I should have. I planned a life with him in my head cause he was helping raise kids that weren’t his so he must be an amazing man to step up, until he started lacking. Then I realizing me being unhappy with him, was hurting my kids more than I knew. He made me believe that I was so “mentally unstable” no one would ever love me & that being 6ft down in a grave was the only way I was going to be able to get away from him. Then I left & I was so proud of myself. I started doing intensive therapy & working on myself & then the thoughts he planted in my head came back. “No one could ever love you the way I do because I was there for you in your lowest” & I broke the no contact & let him back in. Things were good at first, and then he would shove the past in my face & tell me how much he hated me & the verbal & mental abuse cycle began again. But this time, I knew better. I found out about mental & physical abuse, I did research, I was in groups & I was learning to love myself again. I had boundaries for the first time in a long time. And then I found out about the cheating a year prior while he was living at my house & the summer of the downward spiral had begun. I blocked him again & was so depressed, I began drowning it with alcohol. I felt my heart just break as this man had spent so much time accusing me of cheating while I was working to support my kids, just for him to turn around & do it to me. I almost lost everything & it took me losing 1 of my jobs to finally get back on track. I stopped drinking for a while, I found a better job, I spent more time with my kids & began re-evaluating what made me happy in life. I re-discovered my healthy boundaries, I was working more, I was laughing again & generally meaning it. I started talking to my friends about my feelings & where I was in life. For a year, things were going better (there’s always going to be the ups & downs but it was better). And then the 1 year of me blocking had come up & I caved & unblocked him on his birthday. At first it was to be petty, and then I found out he was seeing someone. I played it like I didn’t know anything, we hung out a few times & then the old him came out again but this time, I was in a better place & I knew what to accept & what to correct. I finally seen him being in my life was not good for me mentally & as much as I miss the him he pretended to be when we first met, I am learning to mourn the person who never existed. I don’t want to call him for every little thing anymore (good or bad). He doesn’t get access to me or my kids life anymore & I love the strong, independent female I am becoming. I’m so proud of the scars I’m healing & acknowledging that I’m human & I am going to have weak days that I might want to message him & I’m taking it 1 day at a time. Going from planning a future & a life with someone you thought was them to mourning someone who never actually existed is something most people will never understand (& I hope they never have too). Some days are easier than others & it’s ok to get lost as long as you find your way back to the track. I am strong because I have no other choice but I’m learning it’s ok to have weak days & I don’t always have to be so strong. Cry, scream, punching a pillow is healthy ways to let all of that out. I’m not perfect & I don’t have to be but I will be there for others going through this & let them know they’re not alone, it’s not their fault & they are very so much loved

He would break up with me and then win me back. This went on for over a year. We were staying at a local hotel for the weekend to celebrate his birthday. We got into an argument in public so I went back to the hotel room by myself. I didn’t let him back in the hotel room when he first got back and instead, packed up all of his belongings. Once I let him in, he threw some of his things. I asked him to leave. He got on his phone. I asked him to leave again and he pushed me down onto my back. He proceeded to punch me over and over again in my eye and head. After the first punch, I said “I’m sorry, please stop”. His response was, “so NOW you’re sorry”. When he finally stopped, I immediately ran to the wall and got crouched down, as blood gushed out of my nose. I again pleaded for him to leave as he cussed at me. He did leave after that. He broke my orbital floor in my eye and my finger. I filed a protective order and was granted it for a year.

I haven’t talked to anyone about the abuse that happened to me. It was 5 years the guy I once fell so hard for became a monster, a sadistic, evil predator. I need to share this story so I can finally say it and maybe let it go. It was just another day about year and 1/2 into relationship. The abuse started slowly at 6 months it did become a 4 to 5 day a week occurrence. I started to be able to see the signs when he was going to start a fight and they would last all night sometimes days and he would always take away any access for me calling for help. That’s how I knew it was starting this time he started asking stupid questions like picking a fight. I was doing my best to act like I didn’t know what was going on and win him over play whatever role he needed so he would stop before it got to the point I was fighting for my life. However, he then grabbed my phone and threw it out the window accusing me of talking to some guy. It was right then I knew what I needed to get help quick. We were staying at a hotel and it was 2 levels. Where I was standing gave me enough distance to bolt up the steps before he could grab me and run into bathroom. I remembered there was a phone on the wall in bathroom. He was standing by the phone in living room when he tossed my phone this was his evil way of letting me know I had no way of calling for help. So quick split decision I bolted up the steps before I got to top I fell down as he grabbed my foot. I turned quickly and hit him in the face with my other foot which his grip then released enough for me to make it in the bathroom and lock the door. I then grabbed the phone and pressed zero for front desk. My heart was pounding.. I couldn’t believe I did it.. I was going to be ok this time he didn’t win.. I waited and heard nothing so I hanged the receiver up picked it up again put it my ear and pressed zero. I didn’t even hear a dial tone. I thought to myself what is going on that’s when I heard his evil laugh outside the bathroom door and I realized he had taken the cord from the phone already. He started taunting me saying.. Why would I do this to him he loves me and if I don’t come out right now it’s only going to be worse the longer I make him wait. Screaming wouldn’t have helped as there were no other guests near our room and no one would hear through the soundproof walls anyways. He always made sure to get a hotel with soundproof walls to prevent people from heating me scream for help. I sat there feeling like I was in a movie this is not happening to me.. I felt so defeated and absolute despair and fear and a knowing that I might just die right now if I don’t walk out to that monster and face the horrible torture and pain he is about to inflict on me. My head was down cradled in my palms and I can’t put into words what I was feeling at that moment I opened the door knowing he was right there waiting. He kicked me in knee caps grabbed me by hair and drug me 1/2 way down the stairs then banged my head against the steps several times while professing how much he loves me. Then he begun choking that was his favorite thing to do to me. This time though he held on for longer pressing down on windpipe so hard I swear he broke it. It was always bruised for years. Wait the world is closing in I feel like I’m falling down a tunnel and everything is getting darker smaller and smaller from a big circle until black… now I’m awake he is crying and laying next to me holding my head and body kissing me oh my god I love you, I’m so sorry I love you so much. That felt so good to be held right then and now it was over that wasn’t to bad well I’m still alive at least.

It took 10 years of emotional, physical and financial abuse from a narcissistic man to realize that I stayed because it felt normal. My childhood wasn’t a healthy environment. So when I met my ex his avoidant and violent nature felt right. The gaslighting and love bombing were so common in my childhood home, I didn’t see the red flags when they popped up. Today I’m still struggling with imposter syndrome. How much of it was real affection? How much was more manipulation and lies? I wanted to share this, because sometimes I need to be validated that it all did happen, it wasn’t a fever dream. So I hope this helps someone out there. You’re not alone. What you’re feeling is valid. It’s scary and confusing at first, but it gets so much better. One day at a time. One small healthy decision at a time. It’s not gonna get better overnight, it will take a while. It’s been 1 year since we split, 2 months since the divorce. I’m taking my time to reset my nervous system and figure out who I am, without his narrative over me. You are loved.

My name is (Name) and this is my story. I have been abused for most of my life from childhood, well into my adult years. I never knew what gaslighting was or love bombing and other terms until I got older and realized what was happening. My mother did that for soo long it was all I knew and I thought it was “normal.” When I was 18 I started a relationship with someone and it was off and on and then we lost contact and then when I was 21 we came back into contact. He won me in the beginning with his charm and sense of humor. Little did I know I was slowly being manipulated, love bombed, controlled and lots of gaslighting. I made a trip to go visit him and I was only supposed to be there a week and I ended up staying. In the beginning everything seemed fine even though he had already cheated on me (red flag) but for some reason I overlooked it and continued the relationship. Over time he became more and more controlling. Starting off with what I could or couldn’t wear, how my hair and makeup were supposed to be done. Then it turned into I couldn’t go anywhere unless I was with him. I wasn’t allowed to have friends, money of my own, and basically I couldn’t do anything without his permission. Meanwhile he could come and go as he pleased, talk to anyone, have friends, and do whatever he wanted with my money. My bank account eventually got closed because he overdrew it soo many times and got so deep in the hole, I couldn’t get it out. He then made me get an account where he banked and he knew I wouldn’t be able to get a debit card there. All my checks I had to go in and get them cashed, and then hand over all my money to him. If I didn’t he would just get it out of my purse later anyway. I slowly started to gain weight because I was miserable, even though I convinced myself I wasn’t. He constantly made remarks about my body and compared me to women in public, movies, and porn. Asking me why I don’t look like that or he’d make a comment in front of me about another girl saying, “I’d bang the shit out of her.” Never, not once did I ever do that to him but he felt entitled to do it to me. I remember the first time he hit me, he didn’t even apologize after doing it. He told me he’d have no issue doing it again. I walked on eggshells everyday because I never knew what would set him off. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone about it and if I tried he would somehow know or catch me. I couldn’t even call anyone back home. He alienated me from everyone and kept me under his constant control. He complained if I needed basic necessities, but it was nothing for him to spend over $100 on video games. He made me work two jobs while he worked one. His family knew I was being abused and did nothing. No one helped me, I was absolutely stuck. There were at least 4-5 different times I packed my things wanting to leave but I couldn’t do it. He even told me to one time and when he got home I said I’m packed and he started laughing. He said, “I only said that to see if you would actually pack your things.” He knew I truly couldn’t go anywhere because I didn’t have a car, money or anywhere to go. I caught him several times talking to other girls, and he treated it like no big deal. One time a guy flirted with me and all hell broke loose. He hated the fact someone else thought I was attractive. Even though he truly didn’t want me, he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. He would wait outside my work (without me knowing) and would watch me and watch others that would come in to see if I flirted with them or if they flirted with me. Yet he could flirt and talk to whoever he wanted. He would always tell me no one else would want me. He ripped away any confidence that ever had and truly made me feel the lowest I’ve ever felt and absolutely worthless. I remember having to hide bruises because he would hit me and then he would hit me in places he knew no one could see. There were times I was slammed against the wall by my throat, thrown onto the bed and held down. He told me if I ever got pregnant he’d kick me in the stomach. Yet he forced me to have sex 3-4 times a day with no protection. For almost a year I thought I couldn’t get pregnant, until I did. The day I found out I was pregnant, you would have thought someone died. I cried soo hard and I was afraid to tell him. I had to wait what seemed like an eternity for him to come home so I could tell him. When I told him, he laughed and said “shit happens.” Not the reaction I was hoping for but I guess it was better than him being mad. He drank himself into a stupid mess that night. During that first 6-7 weeks I dropped 40lbs because I couldn’t hold anything down, not even water. He still expected me to cook for him while being that sick. He wouldn’t even allow me to lay on the couch and just rest. I asked him to get me something to drink and an hour passed by and I decided to do it myself. He then says “get me something while you’re up.” I was furious but too sick and weak to do anything. Not to long after that I had to go to the hospital because I wasn’t getting any better and I was afraid I’d have a miscarriage. As soon as I was admitted he left. He left me there knowing I had zero friends and family to come see me. I was in there for 3 days and when I called him for him to come get me he was pissed. Not just because he had to come get me but because I had woken him up from sleeping. I was out for two days and had to go back due to not only still throwing up but throwing up blood this time. I was admitted back in the hospital and this time for much longer. I was in there for about two weeks. After being asked questions about the relationship, the doctors, nurses and basically anyone who came into my room who worked there refused to release me back to him. During this time he never came to see me, never called me I always had to call him. My phone eventually got taken away and then I had to use the hospital phone. He left me high and dry and he didn’t care. He was too busy talking to an 18 year old still in high school and it wasn’t the first time he did that to me. My last night in there, because my mom (first abuser) was coming to get me out of there, he came and saw me. I was a nervous anxious mess. I was also scared. All he did was joke around and made jokes about having sex there. My nerves couldn’t handle it and I began to throw up. He said “well that’s my cue to leave,” and he left. He knew I was leaving the next day and told me to not come to his work and see him before I did. When we got to the house so I could get my things, he had already put them in a box and left it outside. I have never been so hurt and just felt so worthless. After I got away from him I truly wasn’t completely out from under his control. During my pregnancy he tried his best to control what I did, and I wasn’t allowed to “date” even though we were several states away from one another and we were not together at this point. Again he didn’t want me but he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. He wanted full control over me. Our phone calls were screaming matches and he threatened several times to take the baby away once he was born. I knew that would never happen because I knew he was too cheap to get a lawyer to do that. I gave him plenty of time to be there when they baby was born and of course he was a no show. Once I got home from the hospital I called him to let him know his son was born. Instead he yelled at me asking me where I’ve been because he couldn’t get a hold of me. I told him I had been in the hospital and if he tried to call the hospital he would have known that. Nope he rather have an excuse to be mad and yell at me. Sorry I was in the hospital having your baby, my bad!!! He did not really want to be a dad and hit the time my son was 5 he started asking about who his dad was. I didn’t lie and told him. Once again he sweet talked me into a relationship and I only did so for my child. I had to lie to my family in order for them to agree to it. I told him if it was the same crap he did 5 years prior I would end it. Not long into the relationship it was just that. The control started, the manipulation, gas lighting etc. He hadn’t changed. He was still talking to other girls, making demands, telling me what to do etc. I ended it and never went back. I tried to get him to be a father but he didn’t want to be one and I couldn’t force him. Walking away from him for the last time was the best thing I ever did. Yes it was hard but if I didn’t, something worse would have happened. I always get the question “why did you stay” or “why didn’t you leave?” It is not always that easy! He beat me down so much I truly believed no one else wanted me. I felt absolutely worthless. I had zero confidence, no self worth whatsoever. I also had no money, no car, no nothing. He made it to where I was completely dependent on him. The hospital is what saved me the first time by not releasing me back to him. The second time I was able to save myself and walk away before it was too late. I have other stories about being abused by another man, but other than being abused by my mother this one is the one that has left the most scars from a man. That relationship was truly damaging. Over time some memories don’t hurt as bad and still working on some triggers to this day. Though he has passed, the memories, triggers and trauma are still there. Abuse of any kind is never okay! LOVE ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HURT!!

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.

My ex-husband verbally, sexually, mentally and physically abused me during our marriage. He tried to force me to have sex with others for money and luckily I was able to prevent that from happening; but not with out consequence. A miscarriage during our marriage forced me to see a therapist and working with her for almost two years gave me the strength to leave. It’s been over 25 years since I left and I still live with PTSD stemming from the abuse. I have since remarried and have two teenage children. They were little I have always talked to them about what a healthy relationship is, how to recognize potentially abusive behavior and to say “NO MORE”. My kids talk to their friends about what they have learned at home. I speak about IPV/DV to youth groups and to their advisors about what to look for, how to deal with and provide resources for help. I will continue to say “NO MORE” until the day comes when we don’t have to say it.

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.

Hello, thank you for taking the time to read and consider Name story. First, I don’t blame Police Departmentor the state of State Namefor anything that has happened, the responsibility for this belongs completely to the state of State Name She met Friend Name 7 years ago when they were both homeless and moved to Second State Name to live with him at his mother’s property. This property is in the middle of nowhere inSecond State Name, their closest neighbors were anywhere from 30 to 60 acres away. He did this to isolate her from her social support systems, which is something many abusers do to manipulate and gain control of their victims. She didn’t know the kind of person he was until she got pregnant, after which he continually tried to emotionally manipulate her into an abortion. He had not wanted children, though he made repeated promises of a life and family to gain her trust and lure her to the property. This is a large part of his cycle, he makes these promises and lures women (typically around the age of 22) to his mother’s property where he becomes possessive, controlling, and abusive. His family knows he does this and that he’s abusive, but they do nothing to stop him and instead enable him. He had done this with a woman before her, but she had realized his true nature before becoming pregnant and fled to safety. Additionally, he is currently attempting to manipulate another 22-year-old woman from Third State Name online and is making these same promises and luring her to the property. After the baby was born, he became increasingly verbally and emotionally abusive toward her and even committed these acts in front of the child at least every other day. She was living in a constant state of fear, and he manipulated this to further isolate her and take control of her life. Once she finally got the courage to leave him, he became highly combative and began using their daughter as a weapon against her. He then manipulated a judge into giving him primary residence with joint (called shared there) custody of their daughter, though she was the one who cared for the baby every day. His mother had gotten him an attorney whileName couldn’t afford one, which is another thing common to abusers using the legal system against their victims. Unfortunately, we have yet to create protections for women who are vulnerable to this form of attack. She got her own apartment, and the child lived there over 95% of the time. He did not adhere to his responsibilities, and if she said anything about it, he would take the child and hide her fromName for a week or two as “punishment”. He would not provide for his child or look after her in any way, and this made it hard for name to complete her college coursework or make money at her job as a Grub Hub delivery driver. He would have a family that had their children taken and then given back by DHS (Third State Name's version of DCS) watch her the few times he did take her, even though they are again under DHS investigation and about to lose their children permanently. The amount of abuse and neglect it took for DHS to become involved with this family is staggering, and their four children will deal with the emotional trauma they’ve suffered for the rest of their lives. This eventually caused her to lose the apartment and made her move back in with him on his mother’s property, which was obviously the goal of his behavior because her only other choice would have been to abandon her daughter with the abuser. His aggressive behavior and demands that she cooperate with his plans got so severe that he began to rape her in her sleep if she refused his advances, and she found out later that he was put in a boarding school when he was 12 after being caught molesting a prepubescent boy. The abuse they suffered eventually caused their child to begin trying to shield her mother from it and she developed severe psychological trauma, to the point where this four-year-old would say things like “I hope my dad kills you” to her mother. She finally gained the courage to seek justice for his abuse and filed an emergency restraining order, and the judge told her that the County Sheriff and DHS would investigate the issue. However, both the Sheriff of County and DHS failed to investigate anything, despite the Sheriff being informed that there are hours of recorded abuse. So, she grabbed everything she could and came to State Name where she had a support system, and then placed a new order of protection against him. Five days later Third State Name had her violently arrested in front of the child for a fugitive Criminal Restraint by a Parent (like State Name's Custodial Interference) warrant, and according to the attorney I got in Third State Namethey are refusing to accept the Order of Protection from State Name I recently reached out to the County Sheriff’s office in response to a request for information I received from the Second County Sheriff’s office as the Order of Protection has not been served in over 30 days and was told by them that they did not need help finding Abuser's Name This refusal to follow State Nameorder is against Title 18 or the United States Code and the Interstate Compact, but they will not directly admit that this is what they are doing. I have proof of all of this, including the recordings of the abuse, the restraining order in Third State Name, and the Order of Protection in State Name and am willing to discuss this with you further. Apparently, Third State Namethinks it’s okay to punish victims and protect abusers, probably to keep their abuse case numbers down. This is a grotesque miscarriage of justice, and I am reaching out to anyone I can to bring awareness to these disgusting actions.

After spending a year being single on purpose, I had decided that I was finally ready to invest myself in a relationship. The very next morning, I opened my phone to see a message from someone on Facebook asking me out on a date. Apparently they were following my photography page on Instagram and we had a mutual Facebook friend, and they decided they would shoot their shot. From the very beginning they were extremely funny, our sense of humor seemed to mesh really well, and they were easy to chat with. We met at a pub, and it seemed to go pretty well for a first date. It ended up getting crashed by their coworkers, so it turned into some drinks and karaoke. My cheeks hurt from laughing, they seemed really outgoing which I appreciated and their coworkers said really great things about them. On the second date we talked for hours - I felt like I had known them my entire life. No nervousness, I felt seen and accepted right away for who I was, and it was comfortable. It was a dream come true, which is how it felt for the first few months of the relationship. They appeared to check all of my boxes: self aware, empathetic, honest, open-minded. We fell in love quite quickly. The early signs of psychological and emotional abuse started within the first 6 months, but I didn't recognize it as abuse at the time. They were extremely jealous and would often say very hurtful and derogatory things about me. I'd catch them in lies and then they would break up with me stating indifferences in morals, but then would return the next day with heartfelt apologies and promises to work on their insecurities. I believed them. Of course I did, because I excused this behavior as a result of their trauma, the stress they were enduring at work, they were drunk, etc. I thought I could love them through it, so we made plans to move in with each other. That was when the insults, gaslighting, stonewalling worsened - and new aspects developed. Now I was being criticized daily, punished if I didn't tell them where I was going before leaving the house, threatened to send emails to my boss or intimate photos to my family, and my things would be written on with permanent marker or urinated on. That was when the violence started. I didn't feel safe in my own home because my things would get smashed and broken regularly. Police came to the house twice and told me if they came a 3rd time, they would make an arrest, so I ensured they never got called again. However, if I tried to call someone else for support I would get chased, held down, grabbed so I couldn't make the call. I locked myself in the bathroom once and the door was kicked down. I didn't see that as abuse at the time though, because they never hit me. I was so lost in this disillusionment of "love" that I thought they just needed my support, I needed to be more compassionate, I needed to love them better, that's what they told me anyways. This was my fault and I had to fix it. All areas of my life had been threatened: my home, my job, my relationships with my family, my pets, my safety, my health. I became extremely depressed and lost in a state of dissociation. My family became aware of some things (I kept most of it secret until near the end of the relationship, but there was much I wasn't able to hide), and they told me they feared for my life. I didn't respond, as that thought had crossed my mind already many times before and it no longer evoked a reaction in me. I was completely dissociated by this time and I had accepted the possibility. One night while I was driving, they grabbed the steering wheel and steered us into the ditch. That was when the fears became a reality for me. I started safety planning with the hopes that we could still make the relationship work. The trauma bond was strong. One night they started drinking and things were escalating, so I left the house and went to my sister's. In the past I would stay to ensure the things I loved most didn't get destroyed, or I would leave and sleep in my car - but this time I chose to see my family. I started getting text after text all hours throughout the night with horrible things being said. They hinted that my new kitten had "escaped" from the house, and my family had me back at the house, kitten and bags packed, and out the door in 20 minutes. At this point my family had seen everything and there was no turning back. Ending the relationship was confusing, because I didn't feel like I consciously made the choice myself. My family drafted my messages to kick them out of the house. I accepted it, because I just felt so drained and defeated by that point, I had absolutely nothing left to give. We continued to talk for a few months and both discussed how we missed each other and wished things could work, but I knew I could never go back to that, I didn't have the strength. My heart hurt and I definitely grieved - on the floor sobbing - for months on end because I truly felt as though this was my person, this was someone who I thought knew me and saw me for who I truly was. But the truth was, they didn't know me. They didn't even know the color of my eyes after 2 years together. I eventually realized I was grieving a version of them that didn't exist. I was grieving the life I thought we could have, the future family, the relationship that I thought we could work towards. I also realized I was grieving myself. My self esteem was diminished, I felt a huge loss of identity, I couldn't make a decision to save my life, I was exhausted and irritable and angry. I didn't recognize myself for a very, very long time. I felt betrayed and manipulated, and there was a lot of shame towards myself as I felt it was my fault for not seeing the signs or for somehow finding a way to make it work, or for staying as long as I did. I felt like I couldn't trust my judgment anymore. It's been two years now, and I am finally feeling closer to my old self. I struggled for a year and a half with my grief and learning that what I had gone through was abuse. I experienced survivor's guilt, hypervigilance, nightmares, depression, and panic attacks for months. I would start to feel better with the support of my therapist and the domestic violence specialist that I was working with, and a new trigger would happen or another development in my story would occur and I would be back at square one. I felt like I had no hope in finding myself again. I missed the person I used to be and it seemed impossible to ever shake these feelings. But even when I felt the most stuck, I still pressed forward. Even if that meant just making it to work that day, then staying in bed for the rest of the weekend. Or eating a piece of toast before bed if nothing else. Or attending the therapy appointment even if I didn't have the words. There would be weeks of darkness, but then I would have one day where I would cry and felt a little bit lighter. I would visit my family and a genuine laugh would escape my lips. It took very, very small steps, but I do believe I am finally at a place where I am surrounded by the light. I know there is still so much more work to be done, but once I started allowing myself to feel the anger, feel the hurt, feel the pain without shaming myself for it, things started getting better. Keep going - after everything you have survived, I know you can survive this.

I didn't realise until over a year after the separation that the relationship I had been in for almost a decade was abusive. I was confused, I was lost, I doubted every thought and memory I had because that's what I'd been conditioned to do. He used to tell me I had a bad memory, that I remembered the incident wrongly; he would start an argument in the car on the way to what was supposed to be a pleasant gathering with friends; he would criticise me all the time and when I finally snapped and shouted at him to stop criticising, he said I was crazy. He didn't let me sleep a full night for 4 years after our baby was born, I was exhausted, I was extremely anxious about everything. I was in fight or flight mode all the time. The last straw was him shouting at our child all the time because he made a noise, because he made a mess, because of something. I know all this now, but I didn't understand what was happening at the time. I will still second guess myself if anyone vaguely questions my choice or my decision. I was strong before and I lost my voice. I'm fighting hard to get it back but post separation abuse is real and it's difficult when someone is constantly trying to invalidate you and dismiss your concerns. No more. We have to talk about it, join together and eradicate a permissiveness that allows victims to be suppressed and perpetrators to continue unchecked.

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

Last year, a very close friend realized they were in an abusive relationship -- something I had known for a long time. While it was mostly verbal and psychological abuse, it did get physical at the end. That was the catalyst my friend needed -- especially because they were holding their young child at the time (the abuser is not the child's biological parent). Having been in and around this space for a long time, I can tell you firsthand, it is very difficult to stand by and watch someone get hurt time after time. It is also difficult to let them make their own decisions once they get out of the relationship -- decisions which may be counter to what YOU want them to do. But this last piece is really important. It is critical to allow someone who has spent in this case several years without agency, to take it back and make their own decisions.

In the months following my assasult, I grew so angry. Poetry was my outlet, to not be quiet and be as angry as I wanted. 100 pages of poetry marred by tears, anger, betrayal, hope, and happiness. On the 100th page, it was dedicated to survivors, I hope that whoever reads this, will find some degree of comfort as I did when writing it. Dear Survivors, You are more than enough. You are worthy of all the stars and gold combined on this Earth. What happened does not define you, you are more than that. From one to another, it’s tough, it’s difficult. You’ll have your ups and downs, happy moments and miserably haunting ones. But, I’ll say this; Thrive. In all honesty, thriving will be tough. But it’s the best reward there ever will be. You deserve to thrive and live and have fun and experience life. What happened to you does not define you, but it is a part of you. What happened to you is not shameful, what happened to you is not your fault- it never will be. Do not let those around you shame you and beat down on you, quieting you and your story. You are the writer of your own story. You decide if you want to forgive. You decide if you don’t want to forgive. You decide if you want to be the bigger person or not. You get to decide. Don't let anyone else tell you any differently. C.P.

i want justin baldoni to know how proud dv people are of him. i can tell how much he cares and this movie he made has impacted him. my father is a very verbal and physical abuser and my mom left after 20 years and im forever grateful and im so glad they made this movie. thank you justin.

Freedom is Glorious I've been working alone the past two days, and instead of taking out the scissors and cutting my hair, I took out an old CD of pictures and remembered how far I have come in this journey. I found pictures of the animals I left behind so very long ago ~ his pets who were like children to me ~ I teared up at their precious faces and remembered how much I love and miss them every day. Then I found some pictures of me taken in my old rental office on campus the night before my 41st birthday. And I was amazed at how clear and blue and full of life my eyes were in each picture.  The weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I stood tall and proud.  The color was back in my face, and my face was fuller because I had finally started to regain the weight I had lost when my food intake was so limited on the weekends. My eyes sparkled in those pictures.  I could not stop staring at myself.  The pictures were proof that I was free.  That I was me again.  I looked at the CD and reached for a snack.  And I thought about how I can eat whatever I want now.  There is no watchful eye mentally counting my calories ~ keeping the cupboard bare.  I am no longer charged $20 to eat a home-cooked meal.  I am no longer ridiculed for not cooking that home-cooked meal myself. I can do what I want, say what I want, feel what I want, wear what I want.  I am not some dress-up doll used to cloak in leather to be propped up on the back of a motorcycle for the whole valley to see ~ no I am middle-aged now, often without make-up, and finally comfortable in my own body not to care if I am not perfect. Because perfect was never good enough anyway. I can speak again.  I have a voice.  I can have an opinion on anything I want.  I see my family again on all holidays.  I do not have to lie about where I am living.  Where I am going.  What I am doing. There is no shame anymore.  No more secrets.  Even the writing I am doing has eliminated the secrets from the people I care about the most. I think about all of these changes as I ponder what it is like for him to be sitting in jail right now.  To have his freedom finally taken away from him.  To be told what to do, when to do it.  And to be isolated from family and friends. It took the news of his jail sentence to wake me up to what I had blocked out for so long.  To bring those horrible memories back up to the surface in dreams, flashbacks, and fleeting moments of sadness.  To finally realize that I had to write down my truth, or they would never go away.  He would still be controlling me in my head through those nightmares, those flashbacks.  He would still be present in my life if I did not get rid of him by writing down all the ugliness of our time together and sharing it with the world. He never wanted me to be a writer.  He made fun of my dream every day.  And it hit me today that the irony of my life story is that one of the biggest stories of my life will now be about him.  And maybe there will come the book or the screenplay out of all of this ugliness that I have shared with the world.  Because if you can skim off the scum, if you can sand down the rust, beneath the surface of all that pain and sadness is the beauty that was once there ~ that was once my life ~ that was once me. Beneath the surface lies the freedom that never really left my side.  Freedom was waiting in the distance for me all along.  Freedom was God taking care of me through the whole ordeal and seeing me through to the other side.  Where life is precious and pure and sweet. Freedom led me to a new life where I can now help others as they had once helped me. Freedom came with its own price ~ the scars beneath the surface that may have scabbed over ~ in order for me to survive. But those scars are my battle wounds for my freedom.  I paid the price for a new life.  I earned my freedom.  I survived.