Mia Greer

My name is Mia, Im 19 and struggling greatly. Since October, my fiancé and I have been homeless after escaping domestic violence and abuse. Leaving was not something we chose lightly—it was necessary for our safety. We walked away with very little, carrying trauma, fear, and uncertainty about where we would land next. We are currently staying temporarily with my grandparents, but this arrangement is fragile and time-limited. They already have one cat and one dog, and we must be out by March 1st. As that deadline approaches, the panic and uncertainty grow heavier every day. Our family has been split just to survive: my grandparents are housing my two female cats, while my mom is housing my two male cats, Juniper and Creamsicle. Juniper is a 9-month-old Tabby Maine Coon mix, playful and full of life. Creamsicle, 8 months old, is gentle and affectionate, especially bonded to my fiancé. All four of our cats have been our emotional anchors through homelessness and recovery. When everything else felt unsafe, they were our comfort and sense of normalcy. I have consistently put their needs above my own because they are family. Unfortunately, our situation has become critical. Because Juniper and Creamsicle are not yet neutered, the stress of instability has caused behavioral issues. They have begun spraying, fighting, and damaging the space they are staying in. My mom is doing everything she can, but she is also navigating serious abuse and upheaval within her own household, and she cannot continue to manage the situation. My grandparents cannot take in more animals, and we are running out of time and options. The possibility of being forced to surrender our cats—after everything we’ve survived—is devastating. We are asking for help to cover urgent veterinary care, including neutering, basic supplies, and temporary boarding if absolutely necessary, so our cats can remain safe and cared for while we work to secure stable housing and rebuild our lives. This fundraiser is about survival, healing, and keeping our family together during one of the most fragile moments of our lives. Any support—whether through a donation or sharing our story—means more than words can express. Thank you for reading, for believing us, and for caring about Juniper, Creamsicle, and our journey forward.

We never thought we would have to write this. We always tried to endure quietly, to push through, and to believe we could make it work on our own. But after surviving abuse that turned violent, we had to leave for our safety — and we walked out with almost nothing and nowhere stable to go together.  My fiancé Gavin and I recently escaped an abusive household where we had been living because we believed we didn’t have any other option. What started as emotional control and manipulation slowly turned into isolation, restricted access to food, and constant stress. I slept on the floor for the first six months I was there. Some days we went hungry. We weren’t allowed to freely communicate with family, and the environment chipped away at our safety, self-worth, and stability.  I want to be clear: I did not choose that home freely. I was 17 years old, weeks away from aging out of support services, and terrified of having nowhere to go. Gavin’s mother pressured and persuaded me to move in, even though my therapist strongly warned me not to — she recognized the manipulation and tried to protect me. But I was young, vulnerable, and out of options. I wasn’t running toward a better future — I was being cornered into surviving however I could.  We tried to keep peace. We tried to stay quiet. We tried to survive it. Then one morning, the emotional abuse escalated into violence. Gavin’s mother began screaming and then attacked me. When Gavin stepped between us — not to fight, but to protect me — she turned on him. She punched him repeatedly in the head and face. She hit him in the ribs and bit him. He never fought back. He only tried to stop her from hurting me.  We went to the emergency room for injuries. Gavin needed stitches above his eye. He was diagnosed with a concussion. I was evaluated after being struck in the stomach. Police were called. After statements were taken, she was released on recognizance, and even then, she tried to prevent us from retrieving our belongings. We were forced to leave quickly, shaken, and with almost nothing. Now we are trying to stay safe and together while rebuilding from nothing. My grandparents are doing everything they can and have taken me in temporarily, but they do not have space for Gavin due to limited room and caregiving responsibilities. We are trying desperately not to be separated after surviving this side-by-side.  Through all of this, we have our four cats — Juniper, Creamsicle, Hachi, and Garnet. They are not just pets; they are our emotional support, our comfort, our family. They have been affected by all of this too. The stress has made them sick one by one. Hachi cries at night when she can’t reach us. Garnet hides and shuts down when she feels unsafe. Juniper and Creamsicle cling to us for reassurance. They have stuck with us through everything, and we refuse to give up on them. They deserve stability and safety just as much as we do.  What We Need Help With Funds will help us secure:  • Safe temporary housing where we can stay together • Basic essentials during this transition • Veterinary care for our cats affected by stress • Access to trauma-informed support and evaluation services  We are not asking for comfort or luxury — only safety, stability, and the chance to rebuild a life free from abuse. If you can donate, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. If you cannot donate, sharing this truly helps us more than you know. Thank you for reading, believing us, and helping us survive not just the abuse but the aftermath.