Community

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

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

I got out of an abusive relationship. It wasn’t till I left there was physical abuse and emotional abuse. Even if the physical was minimal. I’m so glad to be apart of a group of women who are healing. Healing is hard, it’s been countless sleepless nights, extra periods, and nightmares over and over. But the reward of being free is so much better than anything I could’ve imagined. I don’t wish to ever be back in that, and am glad I left every day

When I was 16, I was attacked by a mutual friend. Duct taped and tied to the bed, I've never felt so scared. I just froze and I hated myself for a long time because I always thought it was my fault and I should've protected myself. I later learned that freezing is a natural trauma response. He raped me, I didn't ask for that, no one does. I couldn't speak about it to anyone because no one would listen, everyone just thought I was making it up. It took a long time and lots of therapy to be where I am today. 8 years later, I found my people and am thriving. If it weren't for the other survivors around me, I wouldn't be here today.

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.

Hello Reader, We are a 5 month survivors of domestic violence. When I say "we" I am speaking for myself and my 3 year old daughter. On date, I met the hardest day of my life. I was assaulted by my ex boyfriend ( my daughters father ) , he punched me three times in my face knocking me unconscious while I was holding my 3 year old daughter in the front seat of his car without a carseat . When I came do he held me hostage for over 2 hours telling me I fell and hit my head . I was brave when this first started and I started recording on my watch instantly. He broke my nose, and left me with multiple bruises , mouth and jaw pain and severe panic attacks and anxiety. What I will tell you is I am stronger then before. He violated the restraining order more than 9 times all which I have proof with recordings, video , etc calling the cops everytime. I will tell you this , I pushed the police and the justice system begging them to help me because I was in fear for my life. This man put a tracking device on my car and refused to leave me alone. I felt bad at first, I had moments of sadness, various panic attacks and anxiety . But one thing I knew is I would protect my daughter at all costs .I fought so hard pressuring my advocate and the justice system that they finally caught him and he is in jail . Your VOICE needs to be heard , you are stronger than you know. You are worthy , loved, and matter very much. Please don't let anyone make you feel otherwise . Do I have moments of sadness? OF course that's my daughters father and I did love him. But I love myself and my daughter more . I found God and know I am worth it and I belong on this earth ..stay strong, stay beautiful and speak up . Find help anywhere you can . 1 quarter is better then 25 pennies . I send you all my love and wish you all make it through this . I am going to go to his sentencing and i will reas my victim impact statement to allow the justice system to hear and feel my pain . You GOT THIS !!! Sincerly , a strong domestic violence warrior/ survivor

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

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

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

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

Sexual Abuse in the Academe: Experiencing sexual abuse early in my life by teachers at school, one in primary school and the other in high school, made me think there would be no safe zone for sexual abuse. I became extremely vulnerable and imposed unbelievable restrictions on my relationships with others. Nevertheless, my most disgraceful institutional sexual abuse was on its way later in the academe. In my second year of the Ph.D. program in South Korea, Name Initials, a businessman and politician seeker, returned to college to pursue a master’s degree. He was in an intimate relationship with my adviser. Since my adviser and I were also close to each other, the three of us would go out for lunch or coffee together. Name Initials liked my intelligence and passion in my career and outspokenly pointed that out. Gradually, he brought his ambition and passion for life to my attention. About 20 years after graduation from college, he inevitably faced many challenges like a freshman-year student. Therefore, there were times when he asked me for academic assistance, particularly in writing an academic paper, collecting data in the library, and developing a theoretical framework for his study. One day, we were supposed to have dinner at a hotel restaurant a few days after my assistance in his writing assignment. On our way for dinner, however, he asked me if I wouldn’t mind going farther away to enjoy the quiet nature and good food. I accepted his offer, and he and I headed somewhere he only knew. It took us about an hour to get to the destination. It paid off, and we enjoyed the meal and conversation. On our way back to Seoul, he asked me if he could stop to smoke. He pulled over the car, rolled down the windows, and started smoking with my permission. He turned on the music without waiting for my reply, and we were quiet momentarily. Suddenly, I realized how much I had come along with so many ups and downs and how much I had longed to escape from the reality around me. He felt something was going on and touched my cheeks. He asked if I was crying. I did not reply. In just a few seconds, he put out the cigarette, rolled the windows, and turned off the light and music. That was the beginning of his sexual abuse of me. Since then, he has abused me for months on unavoidable occasions sexually. After Name Initials’s graduation, I received my doctoral degree in Date. My adviser asked me to visit Name Initials 2, a professor at a two-year college located on the outskirts of Seoul. Name Initials 2 welcomed me with warm greetings and a big smile and asked me to write the rest of his doctoral dissertation using the data and materials he would provide me. He promised to help me get a faculty position at his college in return for contributing to his dissertation. His first meeting ended in about thirty minutes, and he had me assigned to teach in his college. A few days later, Name Initials 2 corrected his previous words and convinced me he would finish his dissertation independently. He also promised to help me get a job at his college or from one of his close friends. He suggested shopping with me to buy a gift for me without any specific reason. I accepted his invitation, hoping to learn more about him and establish new academic contacts. During dinner, Name Initials 2 discussed position openings from his college and the detailed procedures from application to official employment. I applied for a position opening and became a promising candidate. One day, he suggested that I go out for dinner with him. After dinner, he offered me a ride home that evening when he forcefully attempted to kiss me, beginning Name Initials 2’s sexual abuse against me. Over the weekend, he would call me saying he wanted to discuss the follow-ups of the application. It was unclear that he would discuss what I needed to do in the hiring process. However, shortly after the frivolous gesture on my application status, he sexually abused me in any place. He also took me to a lodging area away from the big cities and took advantage of me sexually. My struggle to get my relationship with Name Initials 2 back on track was useless. At the end of that semester, it turned out that my application was unsuccessful. After a long struggle, I formed a non-profit, Non-Profit Name Link, in City, State, in 2014 to help other sexual abuse survivors with their journey to healing and empowerment.

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

Where to begin because abuse and shame has always been a part of my being. But at 55 I've come so far and built so much on my own, I cant help but feel proud and somehow I still feel like I didnt make it. I was born to an unwed mother and was taken from her as a baby, in foster care for maybe 2 years maybe more, no one has ever told me the truth about that. My mother did go and get me, and she married my stepfather and he adopted me. My mothers parents despised my existence. I can clearly remember the first time I can recall speaking to my grandmother, I was about 4. I called her name because my mother had asked me to tell her something. I remember standing there petrified to call my grandmothers name. Something a child should never feel. I just knew she hated that I was even in her house, but yet I didnt know yet why I knew this. Being there was like torture for me and I didnt understand why until I was an adult. I just felt like they just were so bothered by me. I never felt comfort there and we visited them quite a bit. Growing up, my mother was no prize either, thank god for my dad and his family or I'd never known any kind of love. I was constantly told she wished she'd never had me, and was beaten up or neglected pretty badly, though she's say you should know what a beating is, which at the time was scary, as an adult it made me feel anger at her and sorry for her at the same time. It seems I was always chasing someone to love me. It was never just given to me aside from my dad's side. My whole life was a battle. I used to go to the neighbors house to get away from her yelling or insults to why was I like this and why couldnt I be more like that. I never felt like I was enough again not understanding it but hating how I felt. At the neighbors Id play with an older girl that molested me for a few years. And sadly I wanted the attention. I felt gross after though. And embarrassed of myself. In school I always felt like a weird kid, even though I had friends I believed they didn't really like me. Oddly I'm still friends with the same girls now, crazy how abuse and self esteem can destroy ones sense of self. I was sexually active by the time I was 14. Met my future husband at 15. He was a horrible boyfriend and on drugs when we met but I was happy to get the one night a week we'd hangout. He was 5 years older than me, had no business being with a 15 year old. But I had a boyfriend and that was all that mattered. My mom left when I was 13 so the abuse and nastiness only occurred when I was forced to visit her which I tried to avoid. But when I was 16 almost 17 she decided she wanted to be a mother again. Now I was taking care of life on my own for awhile. She insisted I break up with my boyfriend. We'd been together a year and a half, I wasnt breaking up with him. The fights got worse, they became physical, I was alot older and stronger now and at 17 I ran away to my boyfriends apartment. And the next month I was pregnant and in high school. More shame more embarrassment. But i married my boyfriend on prom weekend and I thought I was set. We had a beautiful baby boy, then another boy when I found out he was a heroin addict, I wasn't as all set as I thought. I tried to help him get clean and all that. But ultimately he chose drugs and I found out I was having our third son. We separated. 3 babies no dad. My family shook their head at me. My mother told me my grandparents would never accept me as a single mother or if i lived with another man. I couldnt figure out how to do it on my own. When my youngest was a year and a half maybe almost 2 my mother took my kids claiming she was helping me get on my feet, I wasnt allowed to see my kids for 18 months. I was devastated and lost. I took a job at a bar bartending and got caught up in that world of drinking and cocaine. I wasnt a big drinker or drug user but I wanted to belong to something and there I did. I met a guy though that helped me get my kids back and helped me get an apartment and I thought Id found the one. We were together 7 years total, and in that time he reminded me how he should of left me in the bar where he found me and I was damaged goods and what ever other name I could be called. He used to tell me all these guys think you are all that but I get to see how you look with no make up and how gross I was. Who would want that? He'd kick me while we were out in front of people. I always kept trying to be perfect enough but i never was. There was verbal and physical abuse for years but he accepted me and 3 kids and who'd want that? My mother would say I was lucky to have found him. The final straw was he was verbally abusing my oldest. He was awful to him and he was worth getting away from him. Years later I found the abuse so much more than I couldve imagined and I didnt get my kids out soon enough. I then dated a guy who was on the run from the cops, I found out. It didnt last long but long enough to have my face bashed in and end up in the hospital. And my oldest son went to live with my sister. Because I wasnt good enough to raise him. It was all good though. He was safe. From there it was on to baby dad number 2, a ladies man married and in the process of a divorce. He thought he was the shit. And I found out I was pregnant about a year into "dating" . I had that baby on my own. He denied it was his child. I was a slut to him, even though I wasnt. We worked together so I had to act like it wasnt his and the whole job questioned it. My 2 other sons had issues with school and getting in trouble so it was us and the baby and trying to keep them in line. I never felt more defeated. The new baby was about 6 months old and dad wanted to play daddy. By the time my youngest was 9 months old we'd moved in together after his begging to let him be a dad, as if I'd ever stopped him. We moved in together and within a month I caught him cheating with multiple women. WTF was I going to do now. I gave up my house and moved all the younger kids in. So I stayed. The 2 boys from my first marriage were in and out of juvie. The babys father held it over my head and threatened me with it. So I kept trying to make it work. And he kept cheating. But at his insistence, we tried for another baby, he said he'd stop cheating. We got pregnant with my daughter, and he kept cheating. I mean like he was on dating websites. It was insane. He was a narcissist. He cheated on me while I was having our daughter in the hospital. He was all day telling me if I were more like this or that he'd stop or he'd take my babies because of the trouble my boys were in. I was 2 months post partum and he said if i wasnt so fat he wouldnt cheat. Who says that? Couldnt I ever just have a normal family? Maybe I was damaged good as Id heard all those years ago. After back and forth moving across the country to try and fix this, moving back after the housing market crashed, right before my daughters first birthday I threw him out. Out of his own house. Go be with the girl and he did. And cheated on her. Years go by constant berating and belittling because now I'm the ex with the kids and suing him for support. Years of it, Didn't matter that I had court orders and full custody, he was going to tear me apart, sooo many texts. Saying the most vile things that could be said. For years. So in the meantime he'd lived with about 7-9 different women I lived alone with the kids. But wait there's more... I had a good life and my shit together, when along came the worst of the worst, a loud, mean, life of the party type guy that everyone outside loved and anyone that knew him closely despised. And now he's my boyfriend. And in the beginning he was the sweetest. He wined and dined me and was sweeping off of my feet. I deserved it! After all the years I found my guy. Secretly, and slowly he showed who he was. We were together 4 years. Lived together 18 months. I hated him when we lived together 6 months. He hated my daughter with a vengeance. He was outwardly verbally abusive to her once we lived together. And I was having no part of it and asked him to leave, he did not. Mind you there were 2 and a half years of abuse, more vile than my kids father said to me and once again I keep effing trying. So desperate for normal. So badly wanting a family and happiness. So I moved in with him. And I said he was torturous. And god forbid Id make him stop abusing me, it was when it was my child yet again I got out. But this one not so easy, I asked him to go and he didnt and I couldnt get him out because the landlord insisted on having his name on the lease. So he wouldnt leave. And verbally, mentally emotionally and financially put me through it. One year to the day I asked him to get out, he left. After a final year of literal torture, verbally abusing my daughter and eventually my autistic son, he left. And went on to say he left me. Haha. 2 years later I moved to a small beach town with my kids, I bought a home. Reconnecting with all those I lost in the years with him. Havent heard a word from him since. Finding my way. Learning to trust myself and others. Im a full on work in progress. But I can say the strength is within and if you choose to use it , life can be a beautiful.

In 2007, my ex-husband drove over my foot. He did it out of rage. What followed was something I’ll never forget: ➤ I called the police. ➤ They issued a temporary restraining order. ➤ I went to court, determined to protect myself and my toddler. ➤ He stood before the judge, pleaded, and promised he’d never do it again. ➤ The court believed him. They let him go. The restraining order wasn’t extended. And just like that, I was left to pick up the pieces on my own. I’ve shared parts of my story about surviving domestic violence before. But this part? I’ve kept it to myself. For years, I was ashamed of this story. Not because of what happened to me—but because the world taught me to be ashamed. To be quiet. To “move on” as though resilience meant silence. But here’s the truth: Resilience doesn’t come from silence. 𝐈𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩. This experience, as painful as it was, taught me lessons I couldn’t learn any other way: ➤ I learned how to find my voice, even when no one wanted to hear it. ➤ I learned how to advocate for myself, even when the system failed me. ➤ I learned that survival isn’t the end goal—thriving is. But let’s be clear—this isn’t just about my story. It’s about a culture that protects abusers, excuses toxic behavior, and leaves survivors to fend for themselves. The same culture that let him walk away is the one that: ➤ Enables toxic leadership in workplaces. ➤ Silences survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence. ➤ Ignores the mental health toll of these experiences. 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 “𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡.” Leadership isn’t just about titles or decisions—it’s about creating a world where: ➤ Survivors feel safe to speak up. ➤ Toxicity is called out, not tolerated. ➤ Resilience is celebrated, not silence. Some stories stay with you until you’re ready—today, I’m ready. Let it end with us. NO MORE Week 2025 hashtag#nomoreweek2025 hashtag#SayNoMore, hashtag#EndTheSilence hashtag#nomoreweek from LinkedIn post: link

My story has a good ending but it took a rocky road to get there. The reason that I wanted to share it is to emphasize the importance to victims of reporting every time to the police, even if one of those times might not go the way you wanted it to go or even if you got embarrassed after you did it. And I don't mean just every time you are hit but every time you think there is a threat of being hit. I am 100% convinced this is what ultimately stopped the abuse that I endured. I got married after I became pregnant when I was 24. The first time I was abused was New Year's Day when I was 25. My husband had gone to a friend's house to watch a football game with other friends and left me home with our baby and the number where he was. When I called the number, a woman answered the phone and got him. I was mad because he said he was going to be with a bunch of guy friends. He told me it was the wife of his friend but when he came home, he took out his embarrassment and anger that I called him there on me and pulled me down by my hair while I was holding our baby. The second instance of abuse happened after we took our baby to The Lion King in the theater and witnessed Scar slap Sarabi. My husband slapped me in the same way on our way home when we fought about him being able to enjoy the movie while I had to be the one to attend to the baby. It was at this point that I sought out a counselor who enlightened me that I was experiencing abuse and referred us to Family Advocacy, a military program for families experiencing abuse. The final instance of abuse in the apartment we were living in happened right before we moved to a new state by the military and was bad enough to leave bruises on my face. A few days before this incident, we had heard a woman screaming in the apartment below ours and called the police to help her. So when I was being abused, I screamed also when my husband was choking me and I think that that neighbor returned the favor by calling the police for me. The police arrived and it was the one and only time that I felt that the police questioned me more than him because I had been drinking. We were living in city, state and I will always remember the police there for being uncaring about what he did to me but they also stopped the abuse by showing up at our apartment. My husband moved before I did and I faced a really daunting decision at that time whether to move with him. I think if my mom had supported me staying back with her, I would have done that but she wanted me to move with him so I did. After we moved, the military forced my husband to take anger management classes and offered supportive counseling for me. My husband had a harder time keeping me isolated because I am an outgoing person and loved meeting and becoming friends with the other wives. I planned a path of escape from him by going back to school to get my teaching certificate so I could work and have the same schedule as my baby as she grew older. I also told him he needed to move out of our apartment because we weren't getting along and he moved in with one of the guys he worked with in the barracks. We had a 6 month lease on the apartment and when that was up, the military was ready to move us into military housing but I would not move there by myself with our little girl so he moved back and then we moved to military housing. The next instance of abuse happened when my husband came home drunk after a night with a friend. He fell right to sleep and I found a girl's name and number in his back pocket. I woke him up and demanded to know what happened and he punched me and gave me a bloody nose. I called the police and they made him leave and the military forbade him from coming to see me for 2 weeks. I really think this is what made him think twice about abusing me again, despite verbal threats. I did get my teaching certificate but as soon as I got my first job teaching, my husband became romantic and charming and enticed me to stay with him. I ended up getting pregnant with our second child and after a couple years, we moved back to our hometown city. We have lived in our hometown city for 24 years now and there have been a few instances when I felt threatened by my husband and immediately called the police who came over, gave me resources to call, and put my husband in his place. He is a rule follower type so it embarrassed him enough that he has altogether stopped. I sometimes think I must be really stupid to have stayed with him all these years but since the abuse has stopped and we had 2 more kids, there is really no reason to leave. Especially since I have circles of very close friends who I can go out with and travel with. He has never been financially abusive and has always been a good provider so that helps. And he has never tried to prevent me from going out with my friends or traveling with them. I have always believed that boys in our country, maybe even our world, are very much influenced by what they are exposed to on screens. My husband was always into very violent movies and TV shows and there are so many instances of abuse against women on the screen, even in video games, even in Lion King. So although it is not an excuse, I am cognizant that he has been very influenced by them.

I had a couple friends tell me about this guy that he was cool and i should talk to him. So we talked for about 3 weeks. on (Date)my life changed. The guy i met again wasn't the same guy i met weeks before. But i trusted him and just wanted to talk. He told me his mom wanted to meet me so i decided to go. his mom acted weird also. i said hi to her and she didnt say much back. this guy told me hey i want to show you where i sleep downstairs. i followed him down stairs and alot happened. he tried strangling me by pinning me up the door way by my neck and then he assaulted me. I walked home and i should have called 911 but sadly i didnt intill the next day i am so scared and lost now i cant trust anyone. I feel alone and not wanted by anyone. I have self harm but there was thoughts of it. I am calling today to talk to someone to get the help i need. never trust anyone from the internet they are up to no good.

I've been on this road to healing for a very long time. I was with a man that at first was my friend, we were together for 4.5 years. In the beginning things seemed okay. We shared our dreams and I started college. I expressly told him I was there on a scholarship and would only be focusing on school and would come back down on the weekends. Once I started my first semester I should've paid more attention to all the red flags. He would text me and call me at all hours. He'd Skype me any time I had 5 minutes of a break. Mind you I was a naval cadet at my school so I didn't get many breaks especially with classes that were 4 hours long. I eventually started having panic attacks from his constant berating and checking that I wasn't doing anything I wasn't supposed to be doing like cheating. Eventually I had to drop out of being a cadet to being a commuter student which meant being home with him after classes and waking up extra early just to get to class on time. It was even more difficult for me because of his obsessive gaming habit of playing video games until 3 am which is the time I had to be up to get ready for my first morning classes. Eventually I started losing sleep and my grades started slipping. I had to drop out of college for a while to make things easier on myself. I ended up giving up on my dream of being a marine biologist and naval cadet to be with this man. A man that had no job no GED no future. But he would constantly promise that things would get better. At this point I had two jobs just to keep us afloat, and feeding his habits. But little did I know he was selling my stuff on top of everything and the little money I was saving for myself he stole and started using for his habit as well. I switched majors two more times after that and finally stuck to psychology without telling him my final major, just that I wanted to finish school. But it was difficult juggling school and two jobs but I had to because I wasn't allowed to go back to my family ( I had a difficult relationship with them at the time). Because of all the long hours and night courses I was taking, the man I was with started to suspect me of cheating and would constantly fight me at all hours and would start ripping apart my bags and looking through my phone and laptop just to see if he could find any evidence. He'd berate me to his friends and anyone that would listen. I started getting back into my drug habit, which I had previously given up, due to his increasing behavior. he would always put me down calling me a whore a slut a bitch that didn't know how to do anything. Mind you I was the one with the job, but id have to come home to cook to clean to take care of his mess when he was the one home 24/7. When I would try to help him get set up with GED courses or a job he would say things like "I don't need a GED I'm smarter than anyone with a degree" or "why do I need your help when I can do any and everything myself and better". By the time I started working at the Y, I couldn't speak to or see my family or friends. At the same time my beloved grandfather, the man who raised me, was diagnosed with stage 2 pancreatic cancer. I was extremely close to him and when I expressed my fears to my partner's family his sisters and his mother were always so kind to me and always supported me. But he immediately would say I deserved all the pain and suffering and that I shouldn't cry because only good people deserve to feel sad. He'd say I was the scum of the earth and didn't deserve happiness. I'd start sneaking out after work just to see and tend to my grandfather. Id go on days when classes were canceled or when I didn't have work and accompany him to chemo sessions. I would move my schedules around just to spend time with him. But my ex had a friend that worked at the same Y I did, and she started telling him what I was doing thinking she was helping me. Instead he took this as continued disrespect and started beating me daily. I started wearing longer sleeves and thicker clothes and makeup just to cover the bruises up. (Because of this I started developing a love for movie makeup which helped my later investment in my Dad's film company.) I started making friends again and they noticed the clothes especially in the summers and I would just say that it would be inappropriate to subject the children to the tattoos that I have. But eventually they started catching on and one day I slipped because I came in after taking my grandfather to chemo and didn't have time to fix the makeup on my neck. I was able to fix it before my site director or any of the parents noticed. My partner started to force himself on me sexually after I showed little interest and started keeping to myself or spending more time with his sisters. Id wake up to him on top of me and he'd beat me if I fought him. I became pregnant and the beating continued with him believing the child wasn't his. But he beat me so bad one day that I miscarried and he blamed me for killing our child. He beat me so bad that day that he cracked a disc in my spine pinching my sciatic nerve causing me partial paralysis and dropfoot in my right leg. he started drinking heavily after I lost our child. he terminated my phone contract which we entered into only a few months prior, causing me to end up in debt, then he stole the rest of the money from my savings to fund his gaming. This ended up causing me to fall behind on payments for the new furniture I had purchased, which I eventually had to give to his mother. I started talking to someone I had previously dated (we ended things amicable and saw each other as really close friends) for advice and solace. while I understand that this would be technically emotional cheating, I was starting to no longer have feelings for my partner and lost myself. My grandfather, who was with us for 3 more years after his diagnosis, eventually got severely sick and ended up in an induced coma for 3 months. I became severely depressed and disconnected from everything and everyone. I became so numb to the beatings and rapes that I would be terrified to close my eyes. I started staying up at night afraid to lay down or even cover myself with any blankets. I would curl up in a corner by the window and that would be the only time he would leave me alone. My grandfather died in December 2019 and the day he passed my partner broke up with me stating that I deserved all the pain and heartbreak I was suffering and that I would never find happiness. He walked away and laughed at my pain saying my grandfather was just an old man who meant nothing. He had forbidden me from undergoing the surgery that would fix my spine, but without him knowing I agreed to the surgery. I moved back in with my grandmother a few months later in February of 2020 by packing up what I could including important documents and sneaking out at 4am to go to the hospital for my surgery. My father picked me up from the hospital and took me to my grandmother's home. In the safety of my family I confirmed with my ex that I would never again be with him. I told him I no longer wanted anything to do with him no contact either physically or electronically. A few days later he came by with more of my stuff and told me that he would only take me back if I never slept with anyone else after him. I told him he no longer had that control over me so he had no right to ask that of me. I asked him to leave. During the healing period of my spinal surgery he harassed me continuously even going so far as to say he would kill himself if I didn't take him back. This lasted for months and I didn't know what to do. I forced myself into therapy and tried to ignore him as long as possible. With the help of my therapist I was slowly able to block him and start healing. I started working in mental health and social work a few months later. I eventually met my now fiancee who has been my number one supporter. He has even come to therapy sessions with me and has made sure that I always put myself first. I currently work in DV and GBV helping others that have or are going through wheat I went through. I plan on becoming a therapist eventually once I finish my MBA. I also put my makeup skills to use by helping my father on his films with makeup and special effects makeup. My fiancee and I are getting married this year and it's been such a long journey but there are times I still have random memories or ptsd symptoms, but with the help of my friends and family I am able to work through it all. I hope my story gives someone the courage they need to leave before it's too late.

After over a decade, I'm just now coming out of a fog and realizing I've been abused since before we even married. I feel so lost right now. I'm trying to forgive myself, love myself, and gain strength, all while still having to be married to my abuser. I want to leave but don't have the resources to. And I cannot stomach the thought of my children having to suffer even weekend visits with him without me there as a shield. I'm so exhausted. I'm so hurt and angry and sad. He's abused me physically, emotionally, mentally, and financially. I feel so trapped and don't really see a way out for me and my kids. When I watched It Ends With Us, I related so much because I knew exactly how it felt to look back and finally realize what had actually happened. I am just now processing so much that I didn't feel safe enough to even consider was abuse before. It's hard and sometimes I want to hide from it all, but I know the only way to heal and somehow leave is to face what I've been through head on and make a plan to escape.

We lost our family dog to domestic violence. Yes family, because he’s family to us. After that our abuser drained every single account, sold things, hid things, stalked us, and more. Then he left both me, and our child homeless and struggling a lot. What followed was zero help, and support from the police, DA, DV Unit, and the judges. In my wildest dreams I never imagined that nobody would help us. We spent 7 years waiting to get housed, and each day I think are they going to kick us out today, and will we have to sleep in our car again. Understandably that’s an extremely uneasy feeling, not to mention the toll all of these things have taken on our mental health. Yet another thing that isn’t taken seriously enough. Besides all of the abuse, including the post separation abuse, there’s coercive control, and our judicial system needs to acknowledge, and do something about this too. As parents we want to protect our children, but we can’t do that without help from our Congress. We can no longer rely on our individual states to properly help us. We need a nationwide Act that protects all victims of abuse, but this will not work unless there’s accountability. It must be required to be enforced this. We need a Serious Crime Act. I strongly believe that if the United Kingdom can enact this so can we. The day that I had to tell our child that her own dad abused, and killed her dog is something I will never forget. Everyone situation is different, but the one thing we have in common is we’ve experienced abuse. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, especially not on children.

I am going to share my story of abuse through my victim impact statement written for the 1/9 violation on my order for protection that he was charged for. My name is NameI met Name 2 on Date. I fell in love with him easily and quickly, he paid attention to things that I struggled with or lacked and swept me off my feet. This was all part of his process, the extreme love bombing. The abuse started almost immediately. He accused me of cheating on him. He told me I was not to talk to my ex husband and co parent because that was me wanting to be with my ex and eventually the abuse became physical as well. I soon found out Name 2was hiring prostitutes, doing cocaine and drinking alcohol most every day. The control started small, little accusations, expectations of read notifications on texts and location sharing, things I didn’t mind because I never had anything to hide. He used them to his advantage so I wouldn’t catch him and what he was doing and I was so swept into the image he wanted me to see and believe, that I missed the signs of abuse. It wasn’t till a year and a half into the relationship that I found out his control was a way to keep me in the dark about his own life, yet I forgave him and gave him another chance with the declarations of love and apologies. But then the abuse became worse, he tracked how much shaving cream I would use; he yelled and screamed at me and verbally abused me; he frequently pushed me and even pushed me down the stairs onto the basement concrete; he locked me out of the house with nothing and nowhere to go, etc. I moved in with him because it seemed the only way I would know if he was being faithful. Obviously I was wrong because that man has never been faithful one day in his life to anyone. He became so over bearing and he accused me of all kinds of things. I was fired from a previous employer for recording my meetings because I did not know how else to prove to him I was not cheating on him. Name 2told me his issues began early on with abuse from his birth mother and watching her do drugs and selling her body (his sister was raped so I am assuming he was as well), to then moving in with his father and watching him physically, mentally and emotionally abuse his step mother, himself and his brother and alcohol. Name 2began drinking at the mere age of 8, smoking shortly thereafter, the cocaine use began around age 20 and the use of prostitutes to the best of my knowledge started around age 36. He told me he drove his father home drunk before he was even old enough to have a permit. He can drink over 36 beers and still drive his car straight, he drinks everyday., I was a witness to it. His relationship with his family is toxic and strained- he holds his children as bait over his parents to make them do what he wants or they cannot see them. He threatens to hit his dad. Once when I was with him at his parents home in Location he drove over their fence, destroying it. On the ride home that night he told me that one of the two of us was going to die. There is honestly nothing good to say about Name 2 he evades taxes, doesn’t pay for his possessions and has had 2/3 of his vehicle repossessed in the last 5 months, abuses his family, friends, girlfriends and children, he steals, lies and cheats and is a drain on everyone he meets and society itself. Though, this is about my Order for Protection and the violations and why I am terrified of Name 2 and why I never want him to see me or my children ever again. When I became pregnant, with a pregnancy we planned together might I add, his violence, drinking and abuse multiplied ten fold. As you can see in my order for protection he attempted to kill my then unborn son multiple times each time stating he didn’t care if the baby lived or died. He pushed me, strangled me, hit me in the face with a phone and knocked me unconscious, he would call me terrible awful names, hit me and take my phone to prevent me from calling the police for help. It is a miracle that my baby and I are even alive to tell this tale and ask for Name 2to finally see consequences for his actions. Though Name 3 lived, he did not come out unscathed from the abuse he endured while in utero, Name 3 has kidney issues due to Name 2'scocaine use (as cocaine attaches itself to semen and causes birth defects) and the mental, emotional and physical abuse I endured while pregnant with him. It is still unknown if his kidney will heal or if he will need surgery. I filed my order for protection because Name 2had me lie through my teeth with promises of change and love and how he would go to treatment and be the man I deserved for our family in order to get the Danco dropped that the state filed when I called the police on him on Date 2 I also wanted to ensure that my order for protection included Jaxton. As Name 2tried to kill him many times while I was pregnant with him and though the Danco was altered to allow him at the birth he couldn’t stay sober or straight long enough to be there for me and the baby when he was “needed”. After Name 3 was born he called his ears funny looking, asked why he had a birth mark on his face- said he’ll never get laid with that, punched himself in the head to show dominance over me while holding him and when I told him to give Name 3 back to me he pushed me backwards into a patio door. Neither one of us was safe anywhere near him and I thank you for granting our Order for Protection. Now I ask that you punish him for violating it. I am not the first woman he has abused, stolen from, cheated on and ruined emotionally and mentally and I will not be the last. I live my life everyday in fear of him, I see black Tahoes and have panic attacks and attend therapy weekly. This “man” should be charged with attempted murder and actually face the ramifications for his actions. He has 2 older children that are hurting so incredibly bad and are angry and scared of him and do not know how to react or behave with what they are dealing with and now he his living with a new woman already and she has a riddled past with drug convictions and has a 3 year old living with them. He gets more and more violent with every relationship, in mine he attempted to kill my unborn child, what will he do in this one? Actually kill her? And if you follow the pattern that he has experienced in all his years abusing women he will only feel more invincible to do whatever he wants. I filed my order for protection for peace of mind and though you the prosecutor could go after him for MULTIPLE violations they are only seeking one. I am pleading with you to see the evidence that he knowingly violated not once, but multiple times! Even asking in a different violation for me not to call the police. This “man” has never seen consequences for his actions and thus had not changed a thing. This is also not the first OFP for Domestic Violence against Name 2 I ask that you give him with the utmost charge of jail time. There he needs to seek therapy, anger management and rehabilitation for all his addictions. I also ask that he be charged with all of these violations to do so and that if you do place a new DANCO that it include my son Name 3to protect us both. I was strangled multiple times in this relationship and kept from calling the police or for help. Strangulation is a felony conviction all on it’s own and preventing me for calling for help is a misdemeanor that can carry up to one year in jail. I have a recording of him taking my phone and not allowing me to call for help and also admitting to hitting me. This “man” needs to face real repercussions and consequences for his actions and all of his victims deserve peace of mind and a good nights sleep knowing he’s where he belongs- in jail. Help me keep not only myself safe but my child as well. Thank you.