“My name is Sara. I am a mother of two rambunctious elementary school age boys. They are my pride, my joy, and my world.
At work, I support families in social services. This is a calling that hits very close to home, as my eldest is autistic, I feel grateful every day to do the work I do.
Still, I have stressors related to what brought me to CRC. Even so, my life is filled with friendship, dreams for my future, satisfaction in the small things — and above all, the confidence that comes with being an agent of my own life.
My world feels big and expansive. But once … it was not.
I endured constant criticism and control, where I was subjected to angry interrogations and told that my values, needs, and dreams, were inferior. I was the reason he was not achieving greatness. These interrogations would sometimes last hours upon hours, late into the night.
I was verbally attacked anytime I would ask for access to our joint accounts — or any information about our finances at all. He transferred funds into his own personal accounts while maxing out the credit cards. This left me stranded at gas stations and grocery stores, forcing me to call on him to “clear space” on the card — often with kids in tow.
I became conditioned to vigilantly managing his moods — so that I could adapt my affect to avoid triggering him. Just a glance, a look, a facial expression, or a question often meant the difference between another onslaught — or my redemption.
When I had my first son, and then second, it intensified the conflict. And the abuse. He moved abroad in the first weeks of the pandemic, but kept financial control. He sent thousands of texts — many pressuring me to allow him to take the kids abroad. Coupled with the comments in which he reminded me that my consent would not be necessary, as he had obtained birth certificates for them, I lived in fear.
Fear would shake me awake multiple times a night for years. I even hesitated to change the locks on my doors, long after he had left because I was worried of what he might do if he found out.
It was in this moment of life that I found Community Resource Center. A caseworker who served my autistic son heard enough to know that I needed help. She urged me to make the call to Community Resource Center and I did.
I remember feeling that I was not worthy. I had never been hit. I had never been physically abused. Fortunately, CRC recognizes that abuse need not be physical to be devastating. I was validated in that first call with my counselor. And it was nothing short of overwhelming.
I started weekly therapy sessions and joined an online CRC women’s support group. I began the hard work of real healing.
I am a new person today. I’ve learned how to set boundaries without apology because my needs matter. I believe my needs matter. I believe that I have a right to my own perspective and experiences. I believe in myself. I get support from my CRC counselor every week on how I can support my boys as they navigate their own challenges with their dad and build their own inner resilience.
When I think about the profound impact of CRC counseling in my life I am moved beyond words. Did you know that there are people out there in this world whose love for others is so great and so deep that they are willing to give so that a complete stranger can have a better life? I cried the day that Chris told me that my treatment would be covered.
I am a single parent of two, not receiving child support and working part time in a nonprofit — so I can facilitate my son’s many therapies and interventions. There’s no way I would’ve been able to afford this quality of help for as long as has been required to make real progress in recovery from domestic abuse.
So the gratitude I feel is beyond measure, not expressible as anything other than the swelling of tears and the fullness of my heart as I think of all those who have helped me to this point. My counselor at CRC. The women’s group I was in during the early days. My friends. My parents. My little boys. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you for being a part of my journey.”
If you or someone you know needs help, CRC is here for you. Call our 24-hour domestic violence hotline at (877) 633-1112. If you are in immediate danger, please call or text 911 (call if you can, text if you can’t).
