“At first, it was just words, mean ones. Then, it became more—a storm of control and insults. He’d pick on everything, from my friends to what I wore. It got to ‘don’t speak unless I say’ and worse. It wore me down, stole my confidence, my connections, everything.

It was scary and lonely—fear and anxiety were my everyday pals. But today, I talk openly about it, standing up for others.

The Women’s Opportunity Center was my safe harbor, helping me rebuild.

My Life Coach? A guiding light.

They showed me the way out of that bad relationship, back to myself, and even how to start my own business—a secret dream I’d held on to.

It wasn’t easy, but regaining that belief in myself? That’s the victory.

Now, I’m chasing dreams again, thanks to the Center that became my support system when I needed it most.”

““Those words—I’d never heard such venom. It was a cycle: hate, forgiveness, peace, repeat. He tore me down, controlled my every move, insulted my body and family. I thought therapy could fix it, but a question changed everything: Did I want this for my daughter? No way. If not for her, why for me?

Leaving was tough, words turned uglier. He belittled me and my kids. The Women’s Opportunity Center was a lifeline. They didn’t judge; they listened, cried, made tea, held my hand. They brought back laughter, reignited hope. They believed me when my own family didn’t.

I’m educated, got a good gig, a solid rep. But when I opened up at work, I got dismissed. At the Center, it was different—they saw beyond the facade I put up outside. They saw me, the real me.

Today, I’m a good supervisor, a trainer, an employee, and I leave the bad stuff at the door. But the Center helped me face what was behind that door, helping me heal and believe in myself again.” ”

“It all started with cruel words, calling me names like “fat cow” or “stupid fat cow.” Then, it spiraled. It wasn’t just about what I wore or how I looked; it was controlling who I talked to, even questioning my male friends, digging for secrets.

From insults to dictating when I could even speak, it wrecked me inside. “Nobody will ever love you,” he’d say. At first, I fought back, but bit by bit, my confidence got chipped away. I ended up just taking it, feeling like I had no fight left.

This abuse? It stole me from myself, my fam, and my crew. Fear and anxiety became my constant buddies, wrecking everything.

But now? I’m out here speaking up, telling my story loud and clear. I’ve turned into someone who’s got others’ backs, advocating for them.”