Why I Built This Site – and Why You’re Not Alone

I didn’t set out to create a website.

I set out to survive.

That’s all I could think about — survival. The safety of my children. Maybe even more than my own. Everything else felt like background noise. Getting through the day, avoiding the next explosion, staying quiet, keeping the peace… that was my full-time job.

But what started as survival turned into something much bigger.

Because the further I went, the more women I met…
And the more terrifying it became to realize:

It isn’t just me.

There are so many of us. Women trapped in silence. In fear. In confusion.
Women who don’t know where to turn — because no one has told us where to go.
Because when you’re in the middle of it, it’s not just scary — it’s disorienting.
You question your memory, your sanity, your worth.

You try to think clearly, but trauma fog is real.
You want help, but you don’t even know what to ask for.
You want to leave, but every path forward feels like a locked door.

There are too many barriers between a woman and her safety.
Too many systems that are confusing, judgmental, slow, or unsafe.
Too many people who still shame you, still ask “why didn’t you just leave?”

And not enough places that say:
“You are not crazy. You are not alone. You are not to blame. Here’s what you can do.”

So I built this site.

Not because I’m perfect.
Not because I’m fully healed.
But because I’m on the path — and I know how hard it is to find the trailhead.

I know what it feels like to wonder:

• Is this really abuse?
• Am I just overreacting?
• Is it my fault?
• If I tell someone, will they even believe me?

I know what it feels like to be told:

• “You’re crazy.”
• “You’re the abusive one.”
• “It’s all in your head.”

I know what it’s like to sit in public, smiling next to someone who seems charming, generous, and kind — while knowing the minute the door closes, the mask comes off and the monster emerges.

And I know how dangerous it is to leave.
Because leaving is when things can get worse.
Statistically, it’s the most dangerous time. And even if you manage to get out physically — the emotional warfare doesn’t stop. Sometimes it ramps up.

I’ve been sucked back in.
More than once.
And I’m not ashamed to say that anymore. Because it happens. To smart women. Strong women. Loving mothers. It’s part of the pattern. Part of the cycle.

They say it takes seven times on average to leave for good.
For me, I lost count.

This site is for you if:

• You’re still in it and not sure what’s going on.
• You’ve left but feel like a shattered version of yourself.
• You’re trying to rise again but don’t know how to begin.
• You need help with court, custody, finances, police statements, safety planning, digital security, or just finding your breath again.
• Or maybe… you just want to feel less alone.

Because you’re not alone.

I still have days I can’t get out of bed.
I scroll, I cry, I disappear from the world.
Sometimes I lie on the floor sobbing to Jelly Roll’s “Save Me” because it speaks the words I can’t always say out loud.
I still ask my friends, “Tell me I’m not crazy.”
I still second-guess myself.

I am not done healing.
I may never be.
But I’m here.
I’m rising.
And if you’re reading this, maybe you are too.

I wish this site had existed when I was at my father’s deathbed — promising him I would be happy, not even knowing if I could be. I was sitting there making a safety plan with my sister, who was the only one who truly knew what was going on. And even we didn’t know how to start.

That’s why I built this.
So maybe, for the next woman — for you — it’s just a little bit easier.

Because saying “I need help” isn’t weakness.
It’s survival.
It’s strength.
It’s the first step forward.

You have got this.
We have got this.

And we’re doing it together.