The Cycle Ends With Us

I am a survivor of domestic violence, stalking, harassment, and identity theft but my story did not begin the day I escaped. Its roots reach back four generations, woven through the lives of the women who came before me. I am the daughter, granddaughter, and greatgranddaughter of women who endured what they should never have had to survive.

My mother, a woman full of beauty and pain, turned to drugs to cope with the violence in her life. When I was eight years old, she was murdered by her abuser. Her life was stolen, and with it, the childhood I should have had. I was raised by my grandmother, a woman who escaped her own abuser with nothing but the clothes on her back. She raised four children in a time when women had no protections, no resources, and no safety net. She carried the grief of losing her daughter and the weight of not being able to save her. Yet she showed me strength, resilience, and survival.

As a teenager, I promised myself I would never repeat the cycle. But abuse doesn’t always look like abuse…not at first. It can look like love, protection, and devotion. I met my husband when I was 19 and he was 30. He was charming, persistent, and attentive. I thought I had found safety. We built a life together. We had three beautiful children. I poured myself into motherhood, determined to give them the love and stability I never had.

But beneath the surface, control was growing. As I rediscovered who I was outside of motherhood, his insecurity deepened. Control became manipulation. Manipulation became abuse. By the time I recognized the truth, he had already built an elaborate trap around my life.

On January 3rd, 2021, I escaped. With no money, no credit, nothing in my name, and a 24year gap in my résumé, I found the courage to leave. But escaping was only the beginning.

The abuse followed me across state lines, through technology, and through the very systems meant to protect me. My exhusband — an IT expert with a law degree and a topsecret security clearance, weaponized his knowledge to stalk, harass, and control me long after I left. He admitted to crimes under oath. Nothing happened. He broke into my home. He stole my identity. He locked down my credit. Still, nothing happened.

I went from surviving abuse in my home to surviving homelessness in my car.

After nearly three years of fighting, my divorce case was finalized in 2023. I returned to North Carolina and entered the Address Confidentiality Program, hoping for safety. But because of the identity theft he committed, I couldn’t rent an apartment, open utilities, or even prove who I was. I was labeled “highrisk” by landlords and denied services by agencies that should have helped me. It took 3.5 years to secure stable housing.

Even then, the barriers continued. My legal name change and application for a new Social Security number - protections designed for survivors - were delayed for months. I was met with suspicion, rudeness, and retraumatization by the very institutions tasked with helping victims rebuild.

But this story is not just about what was done to me. It is about what I chose to do next.

I chose healing. I chose truth. I chose freedom, even when it didn’t look like freedom yet. I chose to speak, so others would know they are not alone.

Every survivor’s journey is different. Some advocate loudly. Some heal quietly. All are brave. All are valid.

We did not choose what happened to us…but we can choose how the next chapter is written.

The cycle ends with us.

WHAT THEY BUILT AFTER

I am a mayoral appointee and chairperson for the Domestic Violence Advisory Board, an active speaker with the Domestic Violence Speakers Bureau serving in the community to help raise awareness, share resources and advocate for survivors. I am a member of Love Speaks out a program with local 8th and 9th graders to advocate for healthy relationships. I started a nonprofit that is currently in it’s foundational stage to bridge some of a gaps in services and continue to support survivors while reducing barriers