Words can sometimes be more hurtful than blows. The constant insults, verbal degradation and emotional threats undermined my self-confidence and instilled a permanent fear. Every cutting word left an invisible scar, profoundly affecting my self-perception. Psychological manipulation was a silent but devastating weapon. Mind games, distortion of reality and control tactics were used to keep me in a state of constant confusion and uncertainty. This psychological violence destroyed my mental and emotional stability.

March 8, the date of my new beginning... THE best decision of my life. It's already been 5 years since I chose to listen to my little voice. The one that had long been telling me to respect myself, that happiness was waiting for me not too far away, that I deserved better than crumbs of love. On March 8, 2020, International Women's Rights Day, I took all the courage I had left and left this prison with its invisible walls. That day, I made a promise to my heart and soul that NEVER again would anyone hurt them. I was well aware that I was leaving a hell to start a nightmare, but I was ready, my survival instinct had taken over. When I took off my transparent muzzle, I discovered an unknown world and met many new people (masters, agents, TS, DPJ, prosecutors, investigators, DPCP, judges, etc.), each more competent and passionate than the last. But I also got to know our “too-gentle-lent-and-ignorant” justice system in Quebec.... One that makes it impossible for professionals to protect victims from invisible wounds. When I look back, I see fear, scars, courage, injustice, suffering, acceptance, letting go, guilt, frustration and a lot of resilience... but I also see respect, love, gentleness, freedom, gratitude and kindness galore.

I was a victim of physical violence, acts of brutality that left visible and invisible marks. The blows, slaps and physical assaults created an atmosphere of constant terror, making me fear every moment spent at my attacker's side. A particularly traumatic aspect was the sexual violence, a profound violation of my person and dignity. This form of violence left indelible scars, affecting not only my perception of intimacy, but also my confidence in future relationships.

Economic violence was an insidious facet of my ordeal. Restricted access to financial resources, controlled spending and economic dependence created an additional trap, complicating any escape. Economic violence extended the chains of my captivity.

Many have said to me: "stop living in the past, move on, forget it, you're hurting yourself, you're stopping yourself from moving forward, you're victimizing yourself...". I'd like to reply that that's what we want from the depths of our hearts, but every day reminds us of what we've been through: a word, a caress, a look... everything. But it's paradoxical... because for the aggressors, on the other hand, society often excuse their behaviors by saying that they had an unhappy childhood, that they were perhaps also victims of violence... See the problem ?? I think that's enough and that we, as citizens, have to do something about it.

“You have to accept it because you're a Muslim”, ‘If you don't do this, God will change your destiny’, ‘Women must be submissive to their husbands or it will fall on their children’. From small decisions to very big ones, he manipulated me by mobilizing religion. He hid his own desire to control me behind religious references and threatened me with punishment not from him but from God. Getting out of this control without losing your faith requires a lot of courage and assertion, but once you've done that, you gain power and control. Then you can live your faith the way you feel comfortable. Unfortunately, I see around me that too many women experience situations of violence based on religious/spiritual/cultural or identity arguments. Thank you for your help, -A woman who is totally liberated

She knew that my family didn't know about my sexual orientation. I have a very traditional family and I knew I was risking a lot to tell them. She told me that if I didn't tell them, it meant that I wasn't really a lesbian and that I was a "wannabe". She kept calling me "wannabe", even in front of our friends. It even became my nickname.. The day I left her, she called my mother and told her everything.

I want to pay tribute to all the women who work with abused women in shelters. All these women whose identity must be kept secret to protect them. So that they continue to do the colossal work in the shadows to help women who show up at the door of a shelter. All these women, anonymous to the general public, but very present with abused women. They are there as much by conviction as by vocation. They cook for us because we don't have the energy, they prepare rooms for us that mimic the comfort of a real home and they take care of our children because we are overwhelmed by the situation. They listen to us, do not judge us. They understand our pain, support us, encourage us and give us a break for a moment. They make sure that our rights are recognized by the authorities. They help us learn to love again and to make better life choices. They help us to identify violence and especially to get out of it. They help us to reclaim our lives and help us to regain our dignity and to stand on our own feet. For all this, I say thank you. To all these women, I want to pay a sincere and profound tribute.

We were on our way to my parent's house on New Year's Eve. He didn't want to go and made that very clear to us. He drove fast and dangerously, was ranting against my family... the children were crying... 45 minutes of hell. When we got there, it took everything I had to pretend to be happy. The next year, I didn't insist on going...

Girls' night out. I finally talk about my former relationship. I understand - because of the looks of my friends - that what I'm saying is just not normal. It's unhealthy, it's horrible, they have tears in their eyes. I understand the magnitude of what I have been through. I start to cry right there in the restaurant. Later, my friend sends me the link to the SOS violence conjugale's questionnaire. It was so revealingI read the testimonials. I could have written at least half of them. That's what made me call them. Thank you. Thank you SOS violence conjugale, I was referred to gentle, empathetic, kind and so human.

SOS violence conjugale changed my life. Thanks to their support, I was finally able to escape the hell I had been living in for too long. On the surface, my life seemed ideal: higher education, two wonderful children, a condo in a neighborhood I loved, a marriage, an exciting job... But behind this facade was a much darker reality. I was a prisoner of a toxic relationship. Over time, I had learned to smile despite the pain. Yet every evening, as I returned home, anxiety gripped my chest. Making the decision to leave was immense, overwhelming. A thousand questions swirled in my head: would I break my family by imposing a life of two households on my children? How would I face the judgment of others? How could I overcome financial challenges, rebuild my daily life, and find my footing again? But since that day, my life has only improved. To those of you living this reality: know that it’s difficult, but it’s probably the best decision you’ll ever make. You deserve a life where you are respected and loved for who you are. A life without fear, without suffering. It’s normal to feel vulnerable when talking to loved ones, but often, they are there, ready to listen, support, and help. SOS violence conjugale is a precious resource. They accompany you, guide you toward the right resources (shelters, organizations, psychological support...), and respect your pace. And above all, remember: getting informed does not mean committing. Making that call doesn’t obligate you to anything. Take the time you need. Be courageous. I believe in you. You deserve a life full of respect and happiness.

I had been in a shelter for 5 days and when I came back my ex had given my little dog away, at least that's what he told me. I later learned from my son, who is now an adult, that this was not the real story. my ex forced my teenaged son to bring my dog in the car and after driving for a while, he ordered son to open the door and abandon my helpless little puppy on the side of the road ? When my son told me the story he was crying with guilt as he apologized . Obviously I reassured him that he had no choice but to obey his father and that he didn't have to live with guilt or regrets that it wasn't his fault.? Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)