As part of our vision, we want to show that domestic violence happens even where you least expect it. Business Professionals, your neighbor, your friend…  What kinds of secrets are being kept because people are scared to speak up? These are not just stories you see on reality TV or in headlines. These are our people, our families and our communities.  Freeing yourself from the chains of abuse takes hope, courage, and vision, in addition to the support and listening of people in your community.

May the stories from our survivors inspire others to find their strength and take control of their lives and encourage loved ones to support someone who needs it.

From Anonymous –

The past four years has been a whirlwind of unnecessary pain. I was done with the lying, the disrespect, the hate I had started to feel. Some days I wondered how I was still getting out of bed everyday. Yet, I was still smiling, still making plans, still wanting to go places, still wanting to see people, still wanting things to do. I started wondering how the hell I was going to get out. No woman ever thinks it’s going to happen to her. Ever since I was a little girl, I watched my father treat my mother with the utmost respect. He loved her the way I thought how a real man would treat the woman he loved. They just celebrated 42 years of marriage. I want that. 

For the first six months of the relationship, I was treated with respect, decency and appreciation. I was valued the right way, but I learned things were too good to be true. I was deceived. I was played. I felt betrayed by him because I was the only one that was being real the whole time. 

He never respected my wishes for my apartment. I didn’t want what felt like half of Seattle knowing what the inside of my place looked like because my home is supposed to be my oasis, my utopia. I needed sleep to help prevent episodes and I was attending classes at the local college a block away. He ignored that. Things of mine ended up getting stolen or used (I’m very particular about my things and who is allowed to use them). After about a year of living there, it was no longer MY apartment even though I paid all the bills. He took over my home.

The respect he once had for me depleted and fast, along with the decency and appreciation he once showed me. The REAL HIM was coming out. I didn’t feel like he valued my presence unless I had just ran to the bank. 

My family and close friends didn’t care for his overbearing, intense and constant negative nature. No one really seemed to like him except for his friends and I’m not sure if some of them ever really liked him. I remember getting a call one Thursday afternoon from my father asking me not to bring him to a family gathering at “The Lakehouse”…or any other family gatherings. That’s when he used the ill comments about my family especially about my sister more and more. Honestly, he did that to himself. “Miss Priss” is a name I recently learned what he referred to my sister to my parents and sometimes he made sure I heard the ill comments he made about her. The comments never stopped. I missed my sister.

Anyone who knows me well, knows I love to run and be active. He had a homie of his over one early evening, both were sitting in the kitchen. I was all suited up standing by the front door. He yelled, “Where are you going?!” I replied sarcastically, “Going for a run. Is that okay?” He ended up throwing a tantrum every time I wanted to leave my own apartment without him even if it was just going to the drugstore. Yet, foolishly, I was still waiting and hanging on to the guy I met believing he was real. I’d give in just to stop the ridiculous tantrum and stop my poor neighbors from calling the cops. After months of ridiculous tantrums, I stopped doing my makeup, my hair, stopped going to school, stopped running, stopped taking care of myself. I fell into a depression. Netflix became my best homie. I just couldn’t take the unwanted chaos anymore. I’m disappointed in myself. I lost myself and I never thought I would’ve ever lost myself, but now, things have changed for the better. 

The night that fully set me free of him was about a month ago. I was talking on the phone with my parents about a friend of his they met the day before whom they found to be a “nice guy”. My dad asked me what his name was and I replied. The phone call ended and I set my phone down on the kitchen counter. That friend of his was sitting at the kitchen table. He started the ill comments AGAIN and threw a glass jar from the kitchen across the hallway into the entry while I was in the bathroom. I told him to knock it off. Instead, he got up and lunged towards me, cornering me into my bathroom. He was screaming at me as if I did something wrong. All I could think was, here we go again. He ripped my bathroom door off the wall while cutting his hand. I immediately pushed myself up against the wall and dropped to the floor next to the toilet, putting my feet up against the outside of the tub and threw my arms up over my head. He started to punch me in the arm, one time in the side of my breast and a few times in the upper thigh. He punched me at a minimum of seven or eight times. I remember him saying he wanted to make me have a seizure while he was punching me. All I could think was, “as opposed to almost every other day of the week?!” I had seizures a lot living in that apartment with him. My parents flew me out of state for a week while they were out of town because I didn’t want him finding me Since I haven’t slept in that apartment, I haven’t had really any. I cut the stress out of my life and I am keeping the stress out. I’m more than HAPPY. I’m ACTIVE AGAIN. I’m ME AGAIN!! I knew I was a strong person, but I NEVER KNEW I was THIS STRONG. I should’ve never endured such chaos and I won’t ever again. Domestic Violence is a very scary thing that no one should ever experience. It can be very mentally, emotionally, physically and sometimes financially draining. If you or you know someone that needs out, there is HELP!! Runway to Freedom is a nonprofit organization that is there to help and has the resources. Don’t hesitate to reach out.

From Kelly-

In 2007, I was a wife, and a Registered Nurse. I was also a victim of domestic violence. Not a word I would ever use to describe myself. My husband called me the “victim” and I hated that word. On 2/12/07, I became his victim. I had spent too much time away from home, which set him off. He said I was “taking time away from the family”. We fought for hours….Until finally he pushed me. At that point, I had had enough, and was going to call the police. When I got up, the belt to my robe fell, and as soon as it fell, he grabbed it and wrapped it around my throat. He looked me in the eyes and said, “I am not going back to jail. This is my only option.” I couldn’t get my fingers between my throat and the belt and at that moment, I realized he was going to kill me. I did all I knew to do…to ”play dead.” I did just that by pretending to pass out. The same man who promised to love and honor me, continued to strangle me until I did lose consciousness, and he didn’t stop until he thought I was dead. Once I came to, he kept me locked in our bathroom for an hour because he didn’t “trust” that I wouldn’t call the police. He finally let me go, kissed our daughter, and left our home. I never saw my husband again. Once he left our home, he bought a shotgun, rented a hotel room, and committed suicide; leaving me with a 2 year old to raise on my own.

It wasn’t until AFTER he was gone that I realized I was a victim of domestic violence but more importantly, I was a SURVIVOR of domestic violence. I attended a DV support group for years after, and had my own Advocate. They thought me what a healthy relationship looks like and what red flags look like. They also taught me that I am worthy of love, and that love doesn’t hurt. One very scary reality for me was that had he not committed suicide, I would NOT have left him. I didn’t have the tools or the knowledge about domestic violence at the time, and thought that I had made thy bed and I had to lie in it. Today, I know that isn’t true, but that’s only because of what I learned through my DV support group, time with my Advocate, and volunteering my time to talk about my own personal experience with domestic violence. See, I was never beaten by my husband. He controlled me and everything about me, but there was no escalation of abuse, that is often so common. He just snapped one day. It’s important for others to know that just because you aren’t being beaten on a regular basis, doesn’t mean you aren’t in grave danger from your abuser.

Today, 10 years later, I am married to the love of my life and we are together, raising both of our daughters full-time. I know for a fact that had I not utilized the resources that were available to me, things would have been very different for me. I believe I survived that day for a reason, and that reason was so that I could share my story and educate others about this epidemic, known as domestic violence.