In celebration of volunteer + friend

Did you know that when our organization first formed, we were completely volunteer run? Pretty cool, right? Here’s the short story: in 1974, a group of women formed a collective to both help those experiencing violence transition to safety and to educate our community about the prevalence of domestic violence, to give voice to those whose voices had been silenced by the people who were harming them and by a society that did not recognize the harm being done. 

What’s more, many of these women had experienced gender-based violence and other forms of oppression themselves. Although today Steps to End Domestic Violence is largely made up of paid staff, honoring our grassroots is so important to us - and one way we do that is by bringing volunteers in to answer our 24/7 hotline. 

August marks one year that our beloved volunteer, Cathy Uselton, has been volunteering on our hotline. We are so grateful for her advocacy, and we want you to get to know her, too. We talked with Cathy to pick her brain about what brought her to hotline work and what’s inspired her to stick around.

Cathy Uselton, hotline volunteer extraordinaire

Here is Cathy in a nutshell: “I’m a mom to two intelligent, perceptive, talented, progressive, kind and thoughtful adult daughters. I’m a career woman, working full time for a major retailer in their e-commerce division. I’m also a pet momma to a ginger cat, Rufus (named after Rufus Wainwright) and a German Shepherd, Thunder the Velcro Dog! I love live music. I can’t get enough!”

Another thing Cathy really wants to share with you is that she is a survivor of domestic violence herself, and that’s the driving force behind her desire to volunteer on the hotline.  “I’m not from here originally; domestic violence was the great catalyst that forced my daughters and I to leave our original home and come to New England fifteen years ago.”

Cathy had to leave almost everything behind, save for some bare necessities. “We came here to Vermont to rebuild our lives from scratch. The unseen possession that we also carried with us to Vermont was the emotional damage that we had all sustained from experiencing domestic violence. That experience with domestic violence would continue to haunt us for years.” 

She was absolutely moved by the outpouring of assistance, support, generosity, and kindness when her family arrived here — a “healing force” she called the network of support. When her family arrived, they didn’t know anyone here, but that changed pretty quickly. 

Two acts of kindness came to mind for her: a counselor at her daughter’s school gave her a $200 gift card for winter clothing, and a local woman delivered a delicious homemade lasagna to her doorstep, which meant the world to Cathy, a single parent working full time.

Reflecting on the support she received after fleeing her abusive relationship, Cathy thought, “Now it’s my turn to try to give back. I need to give back. Volunteering for a domestic violence agency made sense to me, having gone through it and come out the other side of it.” 

In addition to the desire to give back, Cathy also says the camaraderie at Steps has kept her here. “You always feel connected. I’m not alone— I’m part of a team and we’re all in this together.”

During a recent call with another Steps advocate, Cathy recalls being assured, “you handled that exactly the way you needed to, my friend.”

She shares what this comment meant to her: ”friend. I was blown away when she used that word. Almost made me cry! Because of what I went through in my own domestic violence situation, I lost the ability to cry years ago. How this one word got me choked up to the point where I was fighting back tears when I haven’t cried in many years shows the depth of its emotional impact. We’re friends and comrades together in this mission of helping others navigate through domestic abuse and violence.”

In the spirit of not being alone: Cathy is passionate about validating the complex and difficult experiences of abuse. Why? She says it’s because callers often believe what they are feeling is invalid.  “I tell them: ‘This isn’t your imagination. This feeling that you have – that this isn’t right or fair –that you’re not being treated well? It’s real and you can trust yourself.’” 

Cathy wants our readers to know this: “Domestic abuse isn’t just a white, cisgender, heterosexual problem. It impacts people of all races, all religions, all gender identities, and abuse is isolating. Many times, abusers isolate their victims from anyone who might be able to provide them with support. Abusers also mentally condition their partners to not reach out to others. If you know someone experiencing violence, you can let them know that they’re not alone.”

As someone who has experienced abuse and someone who hears others’ stories of abuse, Cathy wants to bring your attention to some of the complexities that keep people in their abusive relationships. “Many times, people view domestic abuse in simplistic terms. People think, ‘if they’d just leave, it would solve the problem!’ I can tell you from my personal experience; it’s not that simple.”

There are so many reasons why someone may not leave, but she names a few.  “Abusers can cause a survivor to question their perception of reality by minimizing or excusing their abuse, by questioning the emotional stability of the survivor, or by creating an unhealthy emotional dependence. You come to question all aspects of your perception of reality.” And something that makes it even more challenging for a survivor to feel confident in their sense of reality? Oftentimes, family and friends don’t see the violent side of their loved one’s partner, so they may not believe the abuse is even happening. 

Cathy also speaks to a number of other barriers to leaving: financial abuse, court involvement, and finding employment. Speaking to her own experience, she says that her partner knew all of her financial transactions since they shared an account. Once she made the decision to leave, she had to do some serious and discreet financial planning. “I took the extra amount in take-home pay and added a new personal bank account to my direct deposit, funneling the extra to that account while leaving the regularly deposited amount to go into our joint account.” 

She says sometimes survivors need to remain within proximity of their abuser because of a direct court order.  Child Protective Services mandated that Cathy remain in the same county as her abusive partner, and her partner used this to keep her family under constant surveillance. “We couldn’t move away from him without breaking the law.” 

But even after the divorce was final and Cathy was granted full custody of her daughters, there was one more thing holding her back from financial independence: it took nearly two years after her divorce to find a job to support her children.  And although it wasn’t the case for her, Cathy says it is not unusual for an abuser to forbid their partner from working outside of the home or to sabotage their attempts at working in a sustaining job.

We asked Cathy to talk a little bit about what she thinks it will take to end domestic violence.  “I think the best way to work toward it is to provide people experiencing violence and their families – especially the children– with the support networks they need to break the generational cycle of abuse.”

“In our case, it took the entire state of Vermont to provide the support and resources my two daughters needed to heal from the aftermath of domestic abuse.The wonderful news is that it worked! Both of my adult daughters experienced significant emotional healing as a result of that support, and have grown into stable, independent, self-sufficient adults. One daughter recently obtained her bachelor’s degree in musical performance, magna cum laude. She’s also been accepted into a master’s program to continue her music education. My other daughter is working full-time in retail as a manager and she also enjoys providing artwork to a gaming website. “

Her thought is this: “if survivors and their families are adequately supported by services within the community, it can greatly reduce – or eliminate – any dependence they may still have on their abusers. It gives the children hope that there can be a wonderful life beyond the abuse.”

So, what would Cathy tell someone interested in volunteering on our hotline? “It can be difficult. It can be heartbreaking. That said, it’s the most gratifying volunteer opportunity that you’ll ever fall in love with. You’ll never feel like you’re alone in it. When a caller tells you, ‘thank you so much! You’ve helped me’—  there’s just no better feeling in the world like being there for someone else in their time of need.

Although we have put volunteer recruitment on hold due to COVID-19, we would love to hear from you if you are interested in learning about forthcoming volunteer opportunities! Please reach out to Bessie McManus, Development and Volunteer Coordinator, at bessiem@stepsvt.org for more information.

On White Feminism

On January 21st, 2017, thousands of Vermonters attended the Women’s March in Montpelier. On June 7th, 2020, Vermonters marched at the state house once again, but this time, they marched because they are outraged by the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, and George Floyd; they are outraged by the systemic racism that our nation’s institutions are built upon, the policies and practices that center white people and subject black people to profiling, discrimination, and violence to this day.

Two revolutionary marches, but with two very different turnouts: an estimated 2,000 to 3,000 Vermonters attended the Black Lives Matter protest, while an estimated 15,000 to 20,000 Vermonters — 5x more people — attended the Women’s March. We know the smaller crowd is in part because the COVID-19 pandemic has all of us practicing social distancing, but as a primarily white state, we want to call our community members in to consider this: is our feminism intersectional? Are we fighting for gender equality for all if we do not consider racial equity gender equity? Are we advocating for all womxn if we are not talking about how multiple forms of oppression operate together? What are we doing about these compounding injustices? You can read more about intersectional feminism, a term coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw, here. 

We can’t talk about gender-based violence without talking about how black folks are disproportionately affected by it. In her letter “Dear White Women,” activist and writer Rachel E. Cargle speaks to white feminism, which she describes as, “the space where white women fight for rights that benefit their personal agendas without regard for the ways marginalized women experience oppression within the same system.” You’ll find tons of great resources linked throughout the letter. Check it out here.

So, how are intimate partner violence and racial injustice linked? In relationships where abuse is present, the abusive partner uses their privilege to gain power and control over their partner, which is to say the abusive partner acts as the oppressor. When someone experiences further oppression, like racial discrimination, from society as a whole, it makes it even more difficult to break the cycle of abuse.

As an example, today on Instagram, Education & Prevention Coordinator, Marla, dispelled the myth that calling the police is the safest option for every person experiencing intimate partner violence. Black individuals have experienced — and have witnessed their family, friends, and other black people across the nation experience —  harm by individuals and institutions that serve and protect white people and perpetuate violence against black people. They have known horrendous abuses of power which for many, has led to a distrust of law enforcement. If calling the police isn’t an option, the already-too-thin resources for those experiencing violence dwindle, creating additional barriers to finding safety.

All institutions are made up of individual people, and all people have prejudices. Each of us need to dig up the root causes of these prejudices and discredit them so we don’t continue to cause harm. Each of us need to understand how privilege shapes the way we experience the world, and then take action to dismantle white supremacy.  Not all folks in power abuse their power, but we know when an individual chooses to do so, they have social capital that means fewer consequences for them. That’s what we mean when we talk about privilege. And that’s just one example of the way oppression builds.

So, what do we do about white feminism? We de-center white people. We amplify voices of color. We educate ourselves because we are responsible for unlearning the internalized racism that is upheld by messages of white supremacy in the media and in the spaces we occupy from the moment we are born. We invite you to learn and unlearn with us. And then, we invite you to take action.

Not sure where to start with your anti-racist education and work? Check out these resources, and send us yours, too! 

VIDEOS:

Connecting the Dots: Ending Racism and Oppression as the Heart of our Anti-Violence Movement Video 1 Video 2 Video 3

ARTICLES:

75 Things White People Can Do For Racial Justice 

(1981) AUDRE LORDE, “THE USES OF ANGER: WOMEN RESPONDING TO RACISM”

BOOKS:

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

How to Be Anti-Racist by Ibram X. Kendi

Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad

White Fragility by Robin Diangelo

Hood Feminism by Mikki Kendal

At the Dark End of the Street: Black Women, Rape, and Resistance by Danielle L. McGuire

Birthing Justice: Black Women, Pregnancy, and Childbirth by Julia Chinyere Oparah & Alicia D. Bonaparte

FILMS:

13th

Just Mercy

PODCASTS:

Code Switch

MEET OUR NEW EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR!

The Board of Directors of Steps to End Domestic Violence (Steps) is pleased to announce the appointment of Nicole Kubon, MSW, as the organization’s Executive Director!

Nicole has most recently served as Director of Program Services at Steps, where she oversaw direct service delivery across the organization; hired and supervised direct service staff; and developed and monitored program budgets. 

“Nicole’s strong foundation and experience in anti-violence work and prevention-focused advocacy across populations and social issues has prepared her to lead our organization,”  reports Susan Gordon, Chair of Steps’ Board of Directors. “Coming from inside Steps, she is familiar with the values and drive of the organization. She is committed to updating and improving our systems and policies.”

Nicole is coming on board as Executive Director just as the organization is meeting the challenge of the coronavirus lockdown.

Nicole reports, “There are so many ways that the coronavirus pandemic is affecting and will continue to affect our communities at large and vulnerable folks in particular. For folks experiencing intimate partner violence, these impacts are compounded by the experience of trying to survive in unsafe environments and circumstances. We will continue to do everything we can to meet the needs of survivors and think proactively about how to fill service gaps. I feel confident that we will come out stronger and more connected than we were before. The real challenge is in the unknown: the unknown duration, the unknown impacts, the unknown losses. My commitment is to being a steady and reliable source of support and guidance through this unknown, for the survivors we serve, for our staff, and for our community.”

Nicole gained experience working with households experiencing homelessness or housing instability as the Housing Resource Center Coordinator at the Committee on Temporary Shelter (COTS) in Burlington, Vermont, working with families, single adults, veteran populations, and residents of the agency’s transitional and permanent housing programs. There she supported the development of the agency’s strategic planning, translating appropriate goals into operational plans and models. In that position, she gained experience developing collaborative relationships with community partners, state funders, landlords, school liaisons, and other COTS programs.

Her social justice background includes a stint as Program Director at Queens Community House in Queens, New York, where she supervised the Generation Q Program, an after-school drop-in program for LGBTQ youth ages 13-19 and created a 16-week social justice youth training program. Her anti-violence background includes working as Sexual Assault Advocate/Counselor at Wayne County S.A.F.E. Program in Detroit, Michigan. There she was responsible for planning and implementation of The 400 Project, a federal grant created to audit the backlog of unsubmitted/unprocessed rape kits in Detroit; provided counseling and case management for sexual assault survivors; and provided legal, housing, education, and medical advocacy.

Nicole explains, “I have always been a helper and a strong believer in the power of collective community. As I pursued my undergraduate degree, I learned about how deeply trauma impacts the quality of people's lives and then how significant an impact social services and connected community members can have on the lives of folks who experience trauma. I have always been particularly drawn to supporting people in their efforts to heal from abusive or otherwise damaging relationships, to try to break the cycle that pushes us away from each other in an effort to protect ourselves from further harm.”

Nicole holds a Bachelor of Arts from the University of Michigan, where she majored in women's studies and sociology; and a Master of Social Work from the University of Michigan School of Social Work, with concentrations in interpersonal practice and mental health. She has been a passionate social justice advocate throughout her career and is eager to bring that lens into the ongoing work of Steps.

PLEASE JOIN US IN WELCOMING NICOLE TO STEPS BY MAKING A SUPPORTIVE CONTRIBUTION IN HER HONOR.

We're Launching a Chat Line!

After supporting our community members over the phone and in person for more than four decades, we are so excited to announce that Steps to End Domestic Violence is expanding our services to include a chat line. We are getting with the times! 

We know sometimes talking on the phone isn’t always the safest option - and frankly, sometimes sharing in writing just feels easier than saying things out loud. Beginning Monday, April 20th, the confidential end-to-end encrypted chat line will be available 8am to 5pm Monday through Friday, and you can access it on your phone, tablet, or computer.  On the chat line, you can chat with an advocate one-on-one to talk things out, safety plan, and get connected to resources. 

So what kind of safety features can you expect? For starters, we welcome you to share only what feels safe for you. That means you can remain anonymous. Each conversation you have with us will disappear as soon as you close out of the chat box. You can do this by closing out of the browser or by clicking the “Quick Escape” button in the top right of the chat box. That button will bring you to Google.com. Please know if you press “back” on the browser, it will bring you back to the chat box. Our conversation will be gone, but it will still say “Steps to End Domestic Violence” at the top of the page. As an extra safety precaution, you could choose to open a browser incognito mode to chat with us. Browsing in incognito mode won’t show up in your history.

We do want to remind you that if you have any reason to believe your device is being monitored, you might want to consider finding another device to chat with us or consider calling our confidential hotline at 802-658-1996 instead. You can read more about tech safety here, and you can always call us if you’d like to talk through a safety plan around your tech use. 

Check back on our website on Monday to start chatting  - and in the meantime, the hotline is available 24/7. 

I thought things would be different this time

Note: This is a real story, written by a real person. Please be aware of potential triggers in this important piece. To share your story, click here.

I was 20 I & in a relationship that was nearing its end.

I met another man who gave me the attention I was craving.

I cheated on my partner with the new man in my life.

I felt so guilty & we moved away out of town, this way I didn’t have to face the hurt I created back at home.

Within a couple of months my new relationship had become verbally & physically violent.

I’d had to take time off work till bruises on face healed.

He’d also threatened to kill himself.

When the lease of our unit ended, I left him & moved back to my parents & changed my phone number.

A few weeks later was my 21st birthday & we’d not had any contact. I was lonely & missed the good times stupidly I messaged him.

Then he had my phone number & we continued to contact each other.

After I few weeks we got back together.

I thought things would be different this time.

We moved in with some friends 4 hours away from my family.

Things were ok, there was verbal abuse but the physical was at bay.

Within 5 months I discovered I was pregnant.

He was very happy to have a child.

He told his family & the physical violence wasn’t showing. We had arguments. I felt I wasn’t enough, I couldn’t do anything right.

If I could just be better he would be happy.

Before baby was 1 the physical fights stated again, we continued like this for a few months. I was so far from my family & friends all I had was him. I thought this was my Karma for cheating on my previous partner.

He got me across the head & one night & a few days later surprised me with an engagement ring as a way to get me to stay. There was a cycle of love & hate.

I felt he treated me better when I was pregnant & convinced him to have another child.

Things were still rough but he’d never hurt the children.

When baby 2 was born, he said the baby didn’t look like him & accuser me of having an affair. I was just broken.

When baby was 2 months old we had a nasty verbal argument at my family’s home.

My 2 teenage sisters stood up for me & asked him not to speak to me so rudely.

He went off the handle & called them all sorts of nasty names.

He said “we have to leave”, I said “I’m not going”.

He said “Fine you can stay here with the baby but I’m taking the eldest with me”.

I couldn’t let my children be separated so we drove back to our house.

I was so sad it was my birthday.

He said my sisters will never see my children ever again.

I didn’t know what to do. I love my children & my sisters & parents.

I went through this torture for a month & 1 day when he was at work, I was feeling emotional about it all & thought I could take my pain away by getting drunk.

When he got home he was drunk to & we had a massive fight. He belted me & threatened to kill me at one point around the head whilst I was holding my baby. I was screaming & crying. I even ran out into my back yard screaming, hoping my neighbours would here me & call the police but they didn’t.

He left but before he did he said “I dare you to call the police. I had bruises on my face back & legs.

At the hospital I discovery I had 2 perforated eardrums from the pressure of the hits on the head.

He didn’t come home & there was a court hearing for a family violence order the police had taken out.

Within a week he had manipulated me into letting him back in the house.

The next day family services came to our house & issued us both with papers declaring us as unfit parents.

We had to go to the children’s court the next day & we agreed to their orders.

He attended a men’s health program & I attended counselling. I felt I could never tell the counsellor the truth for fear my children would be taken from me.

We continued to live in the hell, I honestly thought I would die in that house.

I felt trapped, I didn’t tell anyone the whole truth about what was happening in my home.

I turned to alcohol which wasn’t the right answer.

I felt if I left him he’d find me & kill me, he made me believe I couldn’t live with out him, that I couldn’t afford to be without him.

18 months later he had an affair & I had a mental break down.

This was 11 years ago from today.

Fortunately he accepted he’d done the wrong thing & we broke up. I took the children to my parents house.

3 weeks later he said he’d move out of the house so the children & I could live there. I took the kids back there but he hadn’t moved out. The day we got there the kids wanted to play with him but him & his mate where in the rumpus room smoking weed with the door locked. I got so mad & got really drunk, he had the police arrest me & they locked me up for 4 hours.

When I got home they were all gone.

I was beside myself & for the first time realised my drinking was a big cause of my problems.

The next day I went to my 1st AA meeting, I found a solicitor to help me get my babies back.

Within 5 days he called me & gave the children to me & drove off.

I collected a few things & never looked back.

My solicitor helped get through the court hearings & he had to attend supervised visits for some months. He passed everything expected of him & we had family orders made up in court.

He was granted every second weekend & a week of each school holidays with the children. The children loved him & wanted to spend time with him.

They continued to visit him until the end of last year when he physically hurt our eldest. He stopped calling them & paying child support. I now have have the agency collect for me.

My eldest son wants nothing to do with him.

My youngest is almost 14 & has recently been in contact with him & wants a relationship with him.

I can’t stop my youngest from loving his dad.

I believe even though my children’s father & I have a horrible history I don’t have the right to stop my child seeing his dad.

I still have flash backs.

I hope I can fully recover so I have a chance of a successful loving relationship someday.

Questions I will never have the answer to

Note: This is a real story, written by a real person. Please be aware of potential triggers in this important piece. To share your story, click here.

I grew up in a good family with parents that were in a loving relationship and two older brothers that were very protective and kind. I was strong. I was smart. I was loved. So how and why did I end up in an abusive relationship? That’s something I may never understand. What I do understand is that ending up in that type of relationship is not my fault and does not make me weak.  

When I was 17 I moved away from home to attend college. I fell for a guy in my dorm. He was attractive, we had a lot in common, and could talk for hours. He started off as very sweet until he progressively started to get controlling by asking who I was texting and yelling at me daily for the smallest most mundane things. I tried numerous times to break things off but he would cry hysterically and apologize and tell me that things would change or he would threaten to kill himself and tell me that it would be my fault. Needless to say, I stayed with him. I can’t explain why, I just know that I felt like I was no longer making my own decisions and I didn’t know how to make it stop. About 9 months later, I found out that he had been cheating on me the entire time with another girl. We got into an argument that quickly escalated to him grabbing me by the throat, pushing me against the wall, and screaming in my face. He made it seem like I was wrong for confronting him. The school intervened and made us sleep in separate dorms for the remainder of the school year and ordered us to not contact one another. 

Roughly four months later, he contacted me and apologized for what he did. He sounded like his sweet old self again… like the guy I fell for in those first weeks of school. I had my guard up but continued to talk to him. For reasons I still don’t understand, he had some sort of hold on me and I wasn’t quite ready to have him out of my life. We connected in ways that I’d never connected with anybody and I wanted so badly to believe that he was sorry. Eventually, I let my guard down and we began dating again, although this time it was long distance. I didn’t tell my family that we were talking nor did I tell them when I was traveling hundreds of miles to go see him regularly because I knew that they would be angry with me and tell me to stop seeing him. I wasn’t quite ready for that. After some time, he turned into the controlling, aggressive, berating, version of himself that I once flew from. This time, he had more ammunition to keep me around by threatening to tell my family what I’d been keeping from them. Not only did he threaten me and yell at me like he had before, but now he wasn’t afraid to lay his hands on me because we weren’t in the dorm rooms but instead were in his studio apartment. There was one time in particular that we got into a really bad fight and I kept trying to leave but he wouldn’t let me. When he went into the kitchen, I grabbed my keys and my bag and tried to make a run for the door but he heard me and came running into the room before I could get all of the locks undone. He threw me across the room and onto the bed. He got on top of me and held a large knife to my throat that he’d grabbed from the kitchen and told me I wasn’t going anywhere. I always wound up apologizing to him just to calm him down and diffuse the situation. Needless to say, this just added to his mindset that he could do whatever he wanted to me and get away with it because he knew I was terrified of him telling my family. 

Because the yelling and pushing around wasn’t bad enough, he manipulated me into having sex with him on numerous occasions even though I wasn’t comfortable with it anymore. I didn’t care for him anymore and didn’t want to have sex with someone I didn’t care about. I tried to talk to him and ask him if we could try not having sex for a little while and just try to reconnect but that just made things worse and would give him another reason to either threaten me or threaten suicide. I was scared so I always ended up giving in and was left to cry by myself in the bathroom. I felt used and violated. After a couple of years of this, I eventually told myself that the guilt that I would feel from my parents being disappointed in my decision couldn’t possibly be worse than what he was doing to me and that if he committed suicide it wasn’t my fault but was his own decision. I spoke to his father to let him know that his son was threatening suicide and told him that he needed help. I felt that by passing along this responsibility it was no longer under my control. I ended it. Finally, I was free… or so I thought. I was constantly scared that he was going to track me down and make my life a living hell. Well, he didn’t track me down but he did call my parents late one night, drunk, and told them that we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. They asked me about it and I didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth because I was ashamed. I knew better. They still don’t know the truth to this day… nearly 10 years later. 

How could I have not made smarter choices? Why was I so gullible? These are questions that I will never have the answer to. I’ve come to terms with not knowing these answers and have instead decided to use this life experience to make better decisions moving forward. I no longer allow people to control my actions and remind myself that I deserve to be treated with respect and deserve to be with someone that knows my worth. I am now married to a wonderful man and have a son that I intend to raise to respect women. 

I am telling my story to encourage others to ask for help. Anybody can end up in abusive relationships regardless of how you were raised or how strong you are. Sometimes these relationships can creep up on you or sometimes people threaten or manipulate you. No matter what the situation, it’s important to know that you are not alone and that there are ways to get out of these situations. You may not be able to do it on your own which is not something to be ashamed of. Asking for help is the first step to regaining your strength and taking your life back. 

Donor Spotlight: Elyssa Nagle

Why We Take Steps

On October 5, we’ll join the community for Take Steps in Their Shoes. Now in its third year, this event allows all in attendance to celebrate survivors who have gone through the unthinkable. It provides an opportunity to walk together, talking, growing and healing along the way. And it serves as a major fundraising event for Steps to End Domestic Violence, the money raised used to provide free and confidential services to those who have experienced abuse.  

So – why do we do it? 

The day is a happy one. It’s a big, purple party! Because we deserve it. Our stories are unique, they are our own, and sharing them is powerful. Those listening will without a doubt learn something new – about the speakers and about how domestic violence affects us all. By sharing, we’re owning our experiences and acknowledging personal triumph. 

 How you can get involved

1. Register to attend. 

Grab your ticket now for just $35 and secure your spot in the day’s events. The first 100 people to show up will get a great souvenir to take home – stay tuned for more details on that. If you can, wear purple shoes – purple is the color associated with domestic violence awareness and it looks great as we walk through Burlington’s South End.

Click here to register

2. Speak. 

Do you have a story to share? Work with us to develop it for the stage and present it live at ArtsRiot during the event. Never shared publicly before? Nervous about public speaking? We get that – our friend and storytelling expert Sue Schmidt will show you the ropes and work one-on-one to help you get ready. It’s a low-pressure, supportive environment, we promise. 

If you’d like to speak, email jessf@stepsvt.org to talk about it.  

3. Donate.

You’re out of town October 5 – bummer! But don’t worry, you can still support the event and our work. By donating you’re taking a stand against domestic violence and directly supporting those who have experienced it. Any amount makes a difference – give once or give monthly, it’s up to you. 

Donate now!

4. Start your own fundraiser.

Tell your friends why you’re a supporter of Steps to End Domestic Violence and encourage them to become one, too. It’s so easy – visit our campaign page and click “I Want to Fundraise For This.” Then share your fundraiser with your social networks and watch the gifts roll in! The more we share, the more we can raise together. 

Start your fundraiser here

 5. Volunteer

A great way to give back - and get free admission - is to volunteer during the event. We need folks to check-in registrants, help out with the silent auction and more. Contact Bessie McManus at bessiem@stepsvt.org to talk about how you can make a difference.

If you have any questions about registration or fundraising, don’t hesitate to reach out – contact Jessie Forand, Development + Communications Manager, at jessf@stepsvt.orgor (802) 658-3131 x 1063. 

Age Is Just A Number

Note: This is a real story, written by a real person. Please be aware of potential triggers in this important piece. To share your story, click here.

I’m 4 years old. I keep having re-occurring nightmares that a monster is coming in my room at night to change my diaper. I haven’t worn diapers in years, and I’m not a bed wetter. The monster always smells like beer, he touches me in ways that don’t really hurt, and I’m far too sleepy to pay much attention. These dreams happen almost every night until I start school. Then they suddenly stop.

I’m 6. I just got off the school bus and I’m walking home through the trailer park. I have to pass 5 or 6 houses before I get to mine. The neighbor boy is home already, He’s 14, he asks me if I want to see his train set. He must know I love trains. I tell him I have to go home first. I know that I have to go straight home after school. He tells me it’ll only take a minute. He tells me my dad said it was ok. So I go in. I only vaguely remember looking at the toy train, what I remember is being alone with him in his room, cornered, confused. He tells me “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” and he exposes himself. I’d never seen a penis before, I tell him I need to get home. I’m embarrassed, I have a lot of questions. I tell him that mine doesn’t look like that. So he asks what it looks like. He won’t let me go. He’s holding me in place, telling me I can’t go until I show him because he showed me and that’s only fair. I pull open the waste band of my pants and let him peer down, He tells me he can’t see and offers to help. I hear my dad yelling my name. I Feel saved. I bolt out of the neighbor’s house crying, and I run home. My dad had been drinking again, my mom was at work. My dad wouldn’t listen to me, he pushes me up against the wall and hits me. He wants to make sure I know to go straight home after school. No one ever hears my story.

I’m 7. I spend the night at my grandparents’ house, I’m sitting on the bar stools spinning around and around. My grandfather pulls me off the stool and spanks me. I tell him that it didn’t hurt. He tells me that it’s not supposed to. My mom came to pick me up and I told her what happened. She was too scared to tell my dad. I never spent the night at my grandparents again, but I heard stories about how my sister, mother, aunt and uncle were all assaulted by him. I wonder how he can work at a school, and how he can get away with that.

I’m 13, I’m meeting up with some friends after school and we’re going to the park across the street. Me and one of the boys’ kiss, It’s not my first kiss. He exposes himself to me, and I do too. We’re just experimenting, and there are other kids there too. The next day at school he tells everyone we had sex. The guidance counselor finds out and calls my parents. My mom brings me to the doctor. I tell everyone it didn’t happen, but no one believes me. My dad is calling me a slut. The doctor tells my parents that I don’t have a hymen, but I also don’t have any signs that I’ve had sex recently. The doctor questions my parents but suggests that maybe I was born without a hymen. My parents still think I must have had sex. The bullying at school doesn’t ever stop, and no one ever addresses this “deformity” again.

I’m 15. I meet a boy on the internet, he tells me he’s 18 but I later find out he’s 21. I ran away from home with him, and then I got too scared to return home. The abuse from my dad was getting worse, my parents were fighting all the time, my sister was off to college, and I had been gone for over 30 hours. I was only a block away, but I was terrified. I told the boy I wanted to leave and go back to Massachusetts with him. Before we head out the police pull up. They ask me if anything happened with the guy, and I lie, I tell them no. even though they recover my bra from my jacket pocket I still tell them no. We didn’t have sex, so I didn’t think it mattered. The boy is arrested, he stole a car, he’s a registered sex offender. The police bring me home even though I tell them of the abuse, I beg them to lock me up instead of bringing me home. My father strips my room bare and turns it into what he called a jail cell. He feeds me my dinner under the door. He beats me relentlessly, for a month straight. I tell the school nurse, I tell the guidance counselor. I tell everyone. I don’t understand why no one is helping me. I don’t want to live there anymore.

I’m 16. My mom decided to throw me a sweet 16 birthday party. I had never had a birthday party work out before, this one isn’t much different. Some of her family comes, and this guy Joey. He’s 23 I guess. He’s going into the army in a week, but we spend a lot of time talking. We play mini golf, we go swimming, we go for hikes. Joey tells me that we’re not related. “It’s like 3rd cousins twice removed” I had never met him before, never heard of him, no one ever said anything, So I just assume he’s telling the truth. Joey convinces me to give him oral sex. He’s going to teach me how. The next day joey tries to rape me in the back seat of his car, and when I tell him I’m not ready he pulls a knife. He tells me the army will protect him, and no one will ever believe me if I say something. Turns out he was right. No one did believe me.

I’m 19 I just had my first baby with my first real boyfriend. We had fought a few times, but it was almost never physical. We lived in poverty, we were new parents’ things were stressful. One day we got in a fight and I decided to fight back. I don’t remember what happened. I woke up on the floor in a pile of my own vomit. A knife had been planted in my hand and he was holding the baby. He told the police I tried to stab him. In the time it took them to find me innocent he took the baby and left. We got evicted from our apartment, and I didn’t have anywhere to go. Because he did he got temporary custody of the baby. I didn’t get to see my baby for 8 years, and in the end, she didn’t know who I was, she didn’t remember my family, all she knew was that she had been abused by him, and that he told her she was just like me. And I hope to God she’s not like me at all.

I’m 25 both of my parents have passed away, and I’m homeless. I get into a few relationships because I’m literally sleeping on the streets, in gravel driveways, and in the woods. I’m scared to be alone. There’re no resources, there’s no money, there’s no food. I just don’t want to be alone. None of these relationships are good. I get threatened with knives, I get raped, I get spit on… Eventually I leave, I face homelessness alone because I have to get out. I move back to Vermont. I find WHBW, I go into shelter, and I start to tell them my story. I never get a chance to tell the whole thing. I’m just sick, I’m exhausted. I start writing on the walls not to offend anyone, but because I desperately need help and I don’t know how to ask for it. Unfortunately, this action gets me kicked out of shelter. I end up staying in a hotel instead; while the people from WHBW still help me. until I can get a job. I land a great job. A couple years later though, my job begins to trigger me, and I get sick again.

I’m 28 and I spend hours a day staring at the same spot on the wall. I don’t remember the last time I ate anything. I keep calling out of work. I’ve had this noose hanging in my Livingroom for weeks. Sometimes I wrap it around my neck just to practice. I have a bottle of pills that I’ve been saving. It’s a mixture of over the counter medications and old prescriptions. One day I call the national suicide helpline and they ask me if I have a plan. I did not, but this information told me that I needed to have a plan. So, I make one. I can’t work at all anymore, and I’m making excuses to not go. I decided I needed a therapist, and It wasn’t long after this that I was diagnosed with C-PTSD. I can’t work anymore I need to recover and heal. I start to.

I’m 29 and I meet this local guy. He’s rich, and he accepts that I’m going through some things, we have a great time. I’m working off and on at this point, but I’m struggling to keep my bills paid. He tells me that he has space and I can move in with him. I don’t want to be homeless again, so I agree. Unfortunately, though he doesn’t have space for any of my stuff. I leave everything behind, and I go. Things aren’t great, but I have place to stay, and food to eat, and no bills. My plan is to stay there long enough to heal, and long enough to save money to get a different place. He’s very controlling in that he’s always criticizing how I do things, If I cook the wrong way, or clean the wrong way, or dress the wrong way. If I walk too heavily across the floor. It’s constant. About 5 months in I can’t take it anymore, and I decided to fight back. (didn’t I learn this lesson before?)  I raise my voice once. He gets angry, and the look that comes over his face is one I’ve seen before. I call the steps hotline, but they tell me there’s no shelter space anywhere in the state. I have to try to wait it out. I feel safe enough for the time being. Except he heard the call. He kind of snapped. He has me face down on the bed, his arm is around my neck choking me, his knee is pushing into my left side ovary. I feel like I’m going to pass out, I look to my right and he has a big knife telling me he wants to “fucking kill me.” But suddenly he stops. He gets up, I hear him walk away and it gets quiet. I assume he left the room. I go to get up, my plan is to just turn around and run down the hallway and leave. I won’t take anything I’ll just leave. I get up to turn around and he hits me in the face with a mini baseball bat. The police woke me up, they were standing next to me and I was covered in blood. I turned my head and the guy was being taken away in handcuffs. I lost my entire top row of teeth that night, and now I owe hundreds of dollars for a denture that I don’t even like. I also got a bruised ovary. I speak with steps and go back to a hotel for a while. They help me get into a new apartment. I get section 8 and food stamps, I have a therapist I see a couple times a week. For the first time in a long time I feel safe enough.

Last September I turned 33. I’m still in that apartment. I still have that therapist. I’m still not working in a traditional sense, but holy crap am I healing? I create a program that teaches people to use writing as a way to heal from trauma. I call it “writing for healing” and it teaches the skills I used to heal myself. I start doing photography on the side. I look around. My journey isn’t yet complete. I’m still not 100% healed. But I’ve come so far from where I was. I looked in the mirror recently and I didn’t see the same person I’d always known. So, what if they didn’t believe me? So, what if they continued to hurt me? So, what if roomers still slip their lips.

I’m almost 34. I am strong. I’m brave. I’m alive. I’m independent. I’m courageous. I’m wise, I’m smart, I’m funny. I’m a good writer. And you know what? I’m more beautiful than anyone ever told me. I am here. And never again will I there, getting less than I deserve. I am a survivor.

——

Jasmine is a 30-something year old living in Burlington, Vermont. She's a life learner who's learned from both the books and the streets. Jasmine dreams of being a known writer. She also has experience working in education and psychiatry. Jasmine has C-PTSD and anxiety stemming from a history of abuse and neglect. It's become her mission to not only share her stories with other people, but to help people learn how to heal by sharing their own stories. Jasmine recently created a non profit program called "Writing For Healing" where she teaches survivors how to write, and heal from their own traumas. To find out more you can visit her blog at https://cmojblog.wordpress.com or her facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/Jasmnie.Elaine.DeLude. There you'll also find contact information, resources, and upcoming events.

From Bruised and Broken, to Strong and Free

Note: This is a real story written by a real person. Someone who has experienced domestic violence. Please be aware of potential triggers in this important piece.
To share your story, click here

I just started my freshman year when I met, who I thought, was the man of my dreams. I was playing volleyball when I met him, we instantly clicked. We had so much in common, it was like he was a boy version of me. I could tell he was older but was not sure on his age at the time.

He invited me to come out and play league on his team, of course I said yes. After playing volleyball I learned that he was 30, exactly 12 years older than me. I was already hooked on him, that the age gap did not bother me one bit. I was okay having to face all the things people would say about it and I did not care because he made me so happy.

We spent all of our time together, opening my eyes to many new hobbies. We were inseparable, my life was perfect.

About six months into our relationship things changed.

He began to get angry over what I wore, who I followed on social media, and who I spent time with during the day. It started out as small arguments that involved yelling and name calling. As time went on it escalated, he began to abuse me. I can still remember all the moments I got hit, all the feelings I had and how all I wanted was for it to stop.

Many times, it was tearing my clothes or a shove to the floor, but as time went on it got worse. It became a belt to the back or being choked until I could barely breathe. However, every time this happened, I stayed. I stayed because I was in love. I felt he did not mean it and he always told me he was sorry that he would not do it again. Every time I believed him. Every time I went back to him. I could not get out of the cycle. I can remember having to go home to my parents and make up stories to explain the marks on my face and arms, the bruises on my legs and back, my busted lips, and the marks around my neck. I defended him in all I did, only to go back to being beaten.

Many people do not understand the severity of domestic violence or why people stay. Truly you cannot and never will be able to fully grasp the experience until you have lived it. Until you have went through nights crying wishing you would die, when you feel so low because you were constantly told you were not enough. I took all I could, I stayed no matter how much or how often the abuse was, until one day I could not stand anymore. I could not hear his voice calling me names anymore. I could not take his fist to my body anymore. I had reached my limit.

I decided that I had to stand up for myself. I had to break the silence. I filed an emergency protective order against him, only to have him violate it three times. He had gotten arrested and I had to go to court to set what the punishment would be for his violation. This was such a hard day. I sat as I watched this man, who I thought I knew and whom I had loved, plead guilty for violating his order. I was devastated that it had to come to that, but I knew I had to stay strong for myself. I struggled for the next two weeks until court again, I cried many nights feeling that I was making a mistake. In these times I thought back, to all the times I got abused. This is what kept me strong.

On the day of court, I was nervous to have to see him again. However, I felt support in all those with me and all those in my life who supported me. As we sat down in the court room, the judge read my last domestic violence statement aloud. It hurt to have to relive that moment, but it was worth every minute of the empowerment it brought me. On September 10, 2018 the court room found my abuser guilty. I am no longer held down by my abuser. I am free.

I stand stronger on the topic of domestic violence. No one, man or woman, shall have to endure a life of abuse. You are stronger than they say you are. Many people won’t understand but know that many people will. Everyone can speak of what went on, but you are the one who felt every moment of the pain. Life may be tough at first, it may seem like you’re losing it, but the days get better. You will move past this, you will grow whole again. Never underestimate yourself, because you are brave and can-do amazing things. Stay strong and break the silence against domestic violence.

I have learned that I am not okay right now. I struggle many days and it is horrible, but I also know one day I will look back and realize how powerful I am. I am not afraid to tell my story because I am not alone. I stand strong on my own and I stand strong with all the victims of domestic violence. I am a survivor of domestic violence.

“Actions always will speak louder than words.”

I am a survivor and I will not be defeated.

Note: This is a real story, written by a real person. Please be aware of potential triggers in this important piece. To share your story, click here.

I am a survivor and I will not be defeated.

I have always dreamed of the picture perfect white picket fence marriage. I am easy going, loving and just wanted the love that I seen my father give my mother, to me it was perfect. My parents got divorced when I was 14 and it crushed my world. I began to experiment with drugs and alcohol. It helped mend my pain and of course hanging with the wrong crowd. I had been blessed with two loving parents and there was no reason for this behavior but I was so angry, hurt, confused and pretty much screwed up in the head from the divorce. I skipped school every other day and eventually ended up dropping out.

My abuse:

Thrown threw picture windows, pushed out of moving vehicles, beat so bad I have been in 3 comas, black eyes, broken jaw, knocked out teeth, raped, strangled, thrown threw walls, punched so hard I flew out the back door and knocked out unconscious, kicked in the face, had my head stomped on, knifed, spit on, urinated on, had a boa constrictor put on my neck, told no one loved me and to take a bottle of pills and od'd. Locked in the bathroom for hours with no food. I was told what to wear who I could talk to, when I had to be home. I had no friends. If I was a minute late or if a dish was in the sink I dearly paid for it. Kicked out of my own home. I can go on and on but I’m pretty sure you got the picture. I was treated unhuman.

2 times, had to have two legal name changes and have mine and my son’s social security number changed. Mentally abused to the point of being institutionalized.  Moved probably 50 times. Suffer from severe anxiety, depression, PTSD, social anxiety.

My abuse started at a young age from a family member. I would get beat on an every other day basis. I was kicked in the stomach and thrown down the stairs. I also was body slammed. I will never forget that wicked laugh that came out of his mouth.

I guess I can say I became accustomed to this kind of lifestyle. So now instead of searching for that perfect picket fence lifestyle I seeked out men that were bad boys. I mean heck if your own family member will beat you half to death.

I am only going to share two experiences with you but not to full detail, for they are too graphic.

So my first relationship I was supposed to get married at 16. He got extremely drunk I tried to leave our apartment, WELL he wasn’t having that. He told me I would not leave there alive.

He grabbed me by the back of my hair and beat my face into the wall, I tried to run he grabbed me by the neck and held me up against the wall and ripped the phone cord out of the wall and wrapped it around my neck and picked me up off the ground. I literally was gasping for air, choking. I thought for sure that night I was going to die. He then dropped me to the ground spit on me and said “Your not worth it” I again tried to run he threw a chair at me, I fell to the ground and he jumped on top of me and repeatedly slapped me and punched and again grabbed my hair and ripped out half my hair. This abuse went on for at least 8 hours that night. He finally passed out and I was able to escape. This went on for 2 years.

Now mind you every relationship or dating encounter in between had been mentally and physically abusive. But I will take you to the one that completely changed me.

It only got worse. Years went by and I had moved on with my life. So my sons father passed away of a tragic death. Once again I was feeling lost hurt confused. I had no problem jumping back into the drug life. I had met another bad boy. I immediately moved him in. At this point I had zero self esteem. I had been told for years I was a slut, ugly, stupid, a cheater, never would amount to anything etc.

I worked two jobs while he stayed home and drank at my expense. He would have violent rages. First a slap, then a punch then a I’m sorry.

He destroyed my belongings. He would go to jail. But I always took him back. Until the night he beat me senseless. He threw a chair through my big screen T.V and began to chase me and continually punched me in the face until I could no longer feel it. I was able to get up and run into my son’s room. He punched the door in half and began bashing my head into my son’s wooden dresser. Cops called he went to jail. Now I want you to know after every beating I would relocate, put my son in a new school and through trauma. The abuse consist of black eyes, busted out teeth, bruises everywhere on a regular basis, constantly being stalked, accused of having sex with my own father!!! I was kicked out of every place I lived. The beatings with him were on a regular basis. This went on for 8 years.

So for 34 years of my life. But after all of this I still get up and keep trying. I guess what I’m trying to say is I know now there is a way out, they make you believe you are nothing. If they can’t have you no one else will. The endless sorry’s, they’ll change, they’ll get help, quit druggin and drinking it’s all lies. Life is a gift. We have choices. I know it seems like you can never get out. Endless Order of Protections. But believe you me you can. You are not someone’s punching bag. If you have kids and you think it doesn’t affect them, it does!  You have to realize you are something in this world, even if you have to run change your name. Do what you got to do. We are only given one life, why let someone take away your dreams your happiness. Today I live alone, I choose not to date. It gets lonely sometime but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I wish I could share my whole story to maybe change someone’s life. I hope whoever reads this and is in a bad situation makes that move and leaves. Please get out now before your abuser kills you.

May God Bless You, My Prayers are with all that are suffering.

Nobody is here to protect you, dear

The physical violence I went through was difficult to overcome somehow I am done with it today.

I was in my 5th standard. I have always been a multitasker since my childhood. I have learnt dancing, singing and I used to make drawings too. So my parents seeing me indulging in the art work decided to appoint a teacher.

So I have been admitted to a school where children of my age or older come to give their talent a platform. The first couple of weeks were going great. My teacher was so happy with me, he used to tell my parents that they came to the right place else my talent had never been invented. My teacher used to scold me at times when the work I have been told to do was not done in a week or so. It was okay then when he asked me to stop coming to art school because am wasting my time as am good enough for nothing. He even told my parents. He took a chance knowing that I am afraid of my mother. She used to beat me for everything wrong I have done.

I was an introvert kind of a girl, I think I still am. So, the day he told me I was beaten up by my mother. Then after a week I went to the art school, and that my final exams were on so I couldn't complete the task he has given to me. So my mother before the class started told the teacher that I have not completed the task that's why he can do whatever he wants with me in front of all the students. I felt that was hell insulting but I kept quiet. Then she came back home. So he started checking my homework and suddenly out of nowhere he grabbed my hair and slapped on my cheeks.

I didn't have a time to say anything he continued to beat me up. Then he told me that why have I put brown color in the sky instead of black. I said him sorry. But he then slapped my nose then go started bleeding. But it wasn't enough he slapped me again then he just pushed me on the floor and I was hit by a table. That took place in front of everybody. I was scared I was ashamed of myself I was crying and nothing stopped him. He continued to beat me. I was crying like hell I was screaming but he kept doing it for an hour. Then my mom came he told he also to beat me. My mom and I came back. The entire night I couldn't sleep and from that day have a phobia of men.

 Whenever a man or boy comes close to me I start yelling, screaming, hurting myself. It is still affecting me in my daily I am unable to get up with it. I am still trying hard to calm the battle down but I think I should give up. I don't know if I’LL ever get married because as well as me it is going to end the other person's life. I don't know how to cope up with this fear. 

So my message to all women out there please stand by yourself for yourself. Because nobody is here to protect you dear. 

They only get worse

So I met my ex husband about 4 years ago he lived with his sister that happened to live right down the street from my aunt.

When we first hung out the red flags were there but I chose to ignore them I'm not the person to judge anyone from there past. I mean he came off sweet loving, And funny ....... so almost instantly we started dated I would say maybe 3 months after that we actually moved in with each other.

And it went down hill from there.

I lived with a roommate at the time and he did not like it that we were like sisters eventually I chose to take his side and we stopped being friends I have lost a lot of friendships because of him!

I worked 12 hour shifts nights and while I was at work is when the cheating started he cheated so many times before we got married I lost count and still I did not leave ..so eventually we finally get married and the day we got married he cheated on me and did not come back until the next morning.

So I would say maybe 1 year into our marriage the abuse started he started doing drugs really heavily and acting crazy ..... I remember the first time he hit me open handed he gave me a black eye and I had to go to work like that I felt so embarrassed smh and he apologized and I forgave and stayed...the black eyes became normal ...... he actually broke my cheek bone, busted my head open I literally looked like a monster I still look in the mirror at myself like why did you put yourself through this I don’t even look the same!

It was getting to where I was not sleeping my face was always beat up I lost my job and I lost my children my family stopped talking to me and I fell into a really dark place that I was afraid to crawl out of .... I remember  a time he pulled a gun and pointed it to my head and I remember feeling so scared like asking why he was doing this smh he hit me onto of my head with the gun and literally left a hole in my head I was dizzy and barley could stand up and blood pouring down my face and I'm telling him I need to go to the emergency room and he looks at me with cold eyes and says I don’t care DIE. SMH

I just could not wrap my head around how someone that claimed they love you was so evil towards you.

He would always choke me until I almost passed out...I always knew when it was going to be a bad night cause he would tell me go into the room and I new what was going to happen ... I fell into a depression to the point I was praying to GOD to just kill me cause I could not go through anymore abuse, torture or pain I lost my kids my family there was nothing to live for.

I literally lost everything ......but one day I woke up and I was just done I was done being hurt,  abused and used I actually gained the courage to leave now mind you I left and came back 500 times before i actually left ...... and i never went back i remember i showed up to my mother's front door and she was i tears my children was in tears that i made that decision now he was mad still trying to contact me and threaten me saying he could kill me and get away with it smh

I actually stayed with my mother I got a little job. And started building my relationship with my children again until I made it to where I am now I have my own car my own place .... I have my kids with me I'm at a place where I thought I would never be I have came along way.

And I'm so proud of myself now I still have bad dreams and backflashes of what I been through and it still bothers me but it's a everyday process! I just hope my story helps other women to find the courage to walk away men like him never change they only get worse until they kill you. Thank you again for giving me the opportunity to tell my story I really appreciate it 

Becoming more who I am supposed to be everyday

Note: This is is a real story written by someone who experienced - and survived - domestic violence. Please note potential triggers in this powerful piece.

When I was 18 I couldn't have been more excited to start my adult life. I was in my first semester in college, everything was great, until one June night the guy I was seeing broke up with me so my favorite cousin invited me to a party her bf was having because she wanted me to meet his friend. well, that was the beginning of a recipe for disaster. he was tall tan and covered in tattoos, my dream man. so much so I was willing to overlook the fact he was 16 years older than me. in fact, he made it seem exciting, flaunted money, had his own house, took me on vacations swept me off my feet. before I knew it I was moving in with him in our very own house. the holidays rolled around and we looked like ken and barbie wrapping presents and hanging lights. then things started to unravel. little by little things he said started to not make sense. bills stopped being paid. fights became frequent. to cheer me up he bought me to kittens and they did for a while. the first glimpse I saw of the devil was when he got sick and had to spend a week in the hospital, which caused the mask he wore to start to slip. back home from the hospital things were getting bad he started abusing our cats and making me watch. then on January 16th, the man I fell in love with never came home. one petty argument turned into me on the floor screaming in pain, telling myself this can't be happening as I looked up to see my prince charming standing over me with his fist drawn back. I spent the next 3 weeks lying to my family. telling them I fell down the icy front steps, every time I was questioned about the bruises and the limp. idk why I stayed, shock I suppose but as the months went by and the beatings, stranglings, and intimidation got worse I started to lose who I was. he was an evil person who did unspeakable things to me. i"m not sure what finally lit my fire back, the daughter he had I didn't know about, the day he killed ur cats or the day he stared in my eyes while strangling me but something finally clicked. honestly I thought of my dad and what he would think he knew what he was doing to me and that thought, that reminder, this is not who I am pushed me to tell my sisters and with that, a month of escape plans ensued. May 9th 2013 was the day he finally beat me so bad he saved me. the cable men coming to fix our television came at the best and worst time to hear my screams and call the police. just like that, he was being taken to jail and I was off to the hospital. it hurt like hell to watch the man I loved to be taken away it was the pain of a breakup times a thousand. I honestly don't know where I found the strength to press charges, get a restraining order, and file for restitution, god knows it wasn't easy, but I like to accredit it to god and my family. I experienced every emotion possible during those few months of court dates, continuations, and trails, but in the end, he spent 2 years in prison for the damage he caused me. Now here I am finally becoming my self again. with a hell of a survivor story. those 5 years damn near killed me, I suffered from depression, PTSD, and drug addiction, but nothing and no one can take my strength. I'm currently 5 years a survivor of domestic violence, 2 years sober from heroin, and becoming more who I am supposed to be everyday. 

Happy Ending.

If you told me a few years ago I'd be getting services from Steps to End Domestic Violence, I wouldn't have believed you. 

But I am, and I'm so grateful that they are available to me and the nearly 2,000 others who benefit each year from their free services. 

In addition to helping them provide services, your support for Steps to End Domestic Violence says something about you - it says that you are not okay with violence, you believe survivors and you want to help people take back the control that was taken from them. 

When you donate to Steps to End Domestic Violence, you're letting the world know where you stand. 

The nonviolence movement is strong and getting stronger. Together we can make a difference. 

Act now and feel good about getting involved. 

The Journey is Mine.

After calling the Steps to End Domestic Violence hotline, I felt listened to, but I needed more to secure housing after leaving my abuser.

Walking down the hall towards their office in Burlington, I felt nervous - and excited. They seemed like a good fit for me. And once I was introduced to the advocate who would be speaking with me, I got the feeling things would be okay. 

We'd met just minutes ago but it was like talking to an old friend. They listened, asked questions and made it clear that I was in charge. 

The journey is mine - Steps to End Domestic Violence is there to help me find my way. 

Because of your support, about 350 people each year are able to get help with emergency housing. This is so important because leaving an abuser is often one of the most dangerous times for those experiencing domestic violence.

Donate now to help make a difference. 

After calling, the weight of the world left my shoulders.

After a friend told me about the hotline, I must have stared at my phone for an hour. What would I say? What would they say? I didn't want to be judged any more and it was all I could think of. 

Once I dialed, though, things felt better. The advocate listened, understood and said they were happy that I called. What?! If they were happy, I was ecstatic. Just talking about my abuse felt great, I'd never told anyone the whole story. 

Did you know more than 60 people call the Steps to Domestic Violence hotline for the first time each month?

People like me, who aren't sure what to do, where to go, what comes next. Advocates possess an amazing tool belt, they connect us to resources and programs to help us in our journeys, supporting us the whole way. 

When you support Steps to End Domestic Violence, you're supporting me. Because of you, I'm empowered to talk about my abuse and I'm working to take the steps I need to turn the page on my next chapter. 

Will you donate today and help make a difference in my life? 

The sky is angry

The sky is angry
and so are your eyes
you say you hurt me
but I know they are lies

My skin is bruised
torn between two
I must choose

A cycle I always lose

Tainted Love

NOTE: The following was written by a real person about their experiences with domestic violence. Please note potential triggers in this important piece.

For as long as I can remember, my concept of love was tainted. Love was presented to me as something that was given with conditions and impossible expectations. After years of confusion I began to replace love with codependency. The grips of codependency brought me to my knees long before I indulged in any mood/mind altering substance. Before I ever picked up a drink/drug, my addictive nature preyed upon validation and approval. Maybe traumas and the environment of my childhood propelled my incessant need to please, or maybe I was always a glutton for punishment. At the root of almost every human heart is the desire to love and to be loved. I was no exception, in fact I clung to validation for survival. From an early age, I never learned how to validate myself. Perhaps it was the lack of emotional safety I experienced or maybe it was the fundamental inability to deal with life on life’s terms. Either way, I was spiraling, out of control, with no safety net in sight.

My first experience with domestic violence started at a very young age. My stepmother was bipolar and untreated. Her angry outbursts were unpredictable and seemingly unprovoked. I could misplace a dish in the dishwasher and war was raging. I vividly remember my father having to step in between her attacks, on too many occasions. In all honesty, the emotional abuse I endured was far worse than any mark or bruise left behind. During the most impressionable adolescent years of my life, I was constantly reminded “you just need to be the adult, you know how she is.”  I wore the “adult child” title like a badge of honor. I was reminded that she was not my biological mother and she did not sign up to raise me. As you can imagine, this caused an ungodly amount of confusion and ravished my self esteem. I became the unwanted stepdaughter and I wasted years of my life attempting to fit into the ever changing box she wanted me to fit in. I lived in complete and utter turmoil, always feeling that I was less than and I acted as if.

Fast forward to the day my first abuser, my stepmom, passed away unexpectedly. I was absolutely wrecked and the only viable solution: oblivion. I crossed over the threshold and my drug addiction had me by the throat. I walked through hell and back, dancing with opiates along the way, and completely delusional. I found solace in chaos. Opiate detox was my reprieve, perhaps I was a glutton for punishment. This became the theme years to come, until the fear of change was far less agonizing than the pain I was experiencing.

I was finally willing to get help for my addiction but I had no idea that beneath the self medicating, was a scared little girl. A year sober, and I met him. He was charming, attractive, spontaneous, and seemed to be everything I wanted. Truly sober, for the first time ever, I really had no concept of what was best for me. My shallow standards made it easy for him to enter in and wreck my world. I’ve always been the giver and I’ve always gravitated towards the takers. Again, a glutton for punishment I assume. Infatuation set in, and I was all in. My entire world became him. We never spent any time talking about anything other than him. The first red flag probably would’ve been the night I wanted to leave his house and he threw my keys at me. I remember it was 12am and dark in the room, barely missing my eye, I was a bloodied mess. He didn’t believe he hurt me until he turned on the light and saw the carnage. A quick trip to the ER (of course he tagged along to be sure I complied with the lie we orchestrated) and a swollen black eye, I concluded he really didn’t mean to hit me in the eye. I remember him apologizing but always ending the apology with some form of “but you or because you”. He always wiped his hands clean from any sort of accountability. Yet again, another red flag. We were maybe 8 months into the relationship when the verbal abuse started. Slowly but surely then came the financial abuse and crazy control manipulations. Physical pain would eventually subside but the emotional trauma scarred me. I remember being 9 months pregnant, scrubbing bathroom floors to bring in some income and avoid the abuse. Just like the 15 year old girl trying to earn love through obtaining impossible perfection from my stepmother, I was sure I could win him over if I could just play my part. I was wrong.

As time progressed, I realized I was in a relationship with the male version of my stepmother. The abuse progressed, as it always does, from pushing me, to blows to the body, to eventually breaking my ribs. Want to hear the insanity of abuse? I still didn’t leave, I actually lied to my family and all of my coworkers. I told everyone I fell on my daughter’s toy. We moved into a new place and per usual, the ups and downs ebbed and flowed like the sweet but piercingly cold mountain stream. The abuse continued and the severity of the total demoralization was incomprehensible. I couldn’t separate delusion from reality, just like when I was actively using drugs/alcohol. So here I was, a year and a half sober and living in mirroring insanity.

The turning point… I can remember it vividly, as if it happened yesterday. We had one of our very common explosive arguments but this time the kids woke up and walked into the room. He had me on the ground with his hands around my throat and my kids were screaming for him to stop. Something broke inside of me. I got up, ignoring his desperate pleas, grabbed my kids, left the house, and called the cops. God moved my feet, just like the day I got sober. He was arrested and spent the night in jail. CPS got involved (because the children were present) and demanded we separate.

For the first time in my life, I pulled myself up off the floor and I met fear face to face. I valiantly walked through the fire, but not without the help of the people who loved me the most. I told everyone the truth about what had been going on and I swore to myself that I would never go back. We have children together so this relationship continues to be a work in progress. I have set boundaries and I hold firm to the consequences when he doesn’t follow suit. I believe the phrase “don’t let your past come back to haunt you” was coined from situations like this one. The truth is, unhealed trauma resurfaces and from my experience I kept seeking out what I was familiar with: abusive chaos. The life I live today is so liberating. Breaking a grueling generational curse, I make decisions today that harvest the future I want for myself and my kids. I continue to seek out therapy for my PTSD, addiction, and trauma. I am constantly surrounding myself with women that have my best interest at heart. I am almost 3 years sober today.  I have walked through the fire with dignity and grace. If you are a victim of domestic violence, don’t give up. Don’t stop reaching out to the people that love you. Anonymously reach out to the resources on this site. Visit your local battered women’s shelter. Never give up, you are beautiful.

The author of this piece wishes to include this link with their story: 
www.detoxlocal.com/resources/domestic-violence-addiction/

Giving Tuesday is almost here!

Move over Cyber Monday - We celebrate the day you can really feel good about... Giving Tuesday!

This national day of giving puts you - the donor - in control, choosing which causes you want to support. We want to tell you where your donation goes when you give to Steps to End Domestic Violence. 

This year, we're focusing on PREVENTION! 

Did you know that our Education and Prevention Coordinator visits area schools, business and community groups to talk about the ways in which people can recognize domestic and dating violence, better preparing them to identify it in their own lives and the lives of others? This knowledge is invaluable, as helping a friend or family member could potentially save their lives. 

In addition, by starting with youth, we are able to help individuals grow up with a true understanding of what a healthy relationship is, what it means to be safe in the digital age, to know the role technology may play into aspects of power and control in their relationships, how to talk about domestic and dating violence and - we hope - to over time erase taboos so that those experiencing domestic violence don't feel isolated and misunderstood. 

When you choose to support us on November 27, you're telling the world that it's time to end domestic violence - you're taking a stand.

Pssst - You don't have to wait until Giving Tuesday to donate! Do it now on our special Giving Tuesday page.