Even if you just share this, that will help.

I cannot share on my social media due to safety concerns for my children and myself.

I was barely an adult when I met my husband. I had already survived an abusive childhood and left home at 15, searching for stability. At 17, I thought I had found it in a man 13 years older than me. What I saw as security turned out to be control, and what I believed was leadership revealed itself as manipulation.

The truth didn’t fully unfold until years later, after several children and countless sacrifices. The heavy hands eventually gave way to harsh words, but the damage of constant belittling and control cut just as deeply.

Whenever I wanted to grow—whether it was going back to school or starting a business—I was met with anger, jealousy, and cruel reminders that I was “nothing” without him. He told me no man would ever want me with “all these kids,” that I had nothing to offer because I didn’t bring in money. Over time, those words broke me down.

I was once bold, tenacious, and full of life. But years of constant reminders that I wasn’t enough left me depressed, hopeless, and even suicidal. I bent myself into pieces trying to please him, only to realize that the more I lost myself, the more he “loved” me—because I was no longer me.

I also watched in heartbreak as he treated our children with the same harshness, damaging his relationship with them beyond repair. I did everything in my power to shield them, pouring every bit of love and light I had left into them so they could grow stronger than me.

Little by little, I began to rebuild myself. I wanted to be someone my children could admire, and I am proud to say that after more than two decades of surviving this marriage, I am still here. I am alive. I am present. I am hopeful.

But here is my reality: I am broke. I have no resources. And I am fighting to leave.

The verbal, emotional, and mental abuse has only intensified, but this time I refuse to fold. The threats, the name-calling, the “I hate yous,” and the “I’ll take the kids” no longer control me.

I may be starting over later in life, but I am fighting now—for my peace, for my freedom, and for the future I still believe is possible.

After more than two decades of surviving this marriage, I am finally ready to take the hardest but most important step of my life: leaving. My children and I deserve peace, safety, and a chance to start over. My sister lives in another state, and being close to her would give us the support system we desperately need. If I am able to raise $10,000, I can make this move and begin rebuilding our lives.

Here’s how every dollar would help:

Moving & Travel ($1,000):

We wont be taking anything but, the clothes we can carry.

Housing & Security ($5,500): First month’s rent, security deposit, and basic furniture or essentials to make a safe home for my kids.

Utilities & Setup ($1,000): Deposits for electricity, water, internet, and school-related needs so my children can adjust smoothly.

Transportation & Stability ($1,000): Reliable transportation for work and school, including any vehicle upkeep, registration, or insurance updates.

Emergency/Transition Fund ($1,500): Groceries, household basics, and a cushion for unexpected costs while I get steady income in place.

This $10,000 isn’t just about money—it’s about freedom. It’s about giving my children a safe and loving home, and giving me the chance to finally stand on my own feet. With your help, we can break free from the cycle of abuse and step into a future full of hope and possibility.

Thank you in advance