Get off my ground!
I feel a hard grip on my arm as I am pushed backwards.
In the background I hear my youngest son screaming heartbreakingly; “stop dad! stop father!”. First I shout; “let me go”, but he holds my arm tighter as he pushes me backwards. I break free, he threatens me with his fist, throws stones at me while shouting that he would stab me to death.
He chases me with his fist, his gaze is pitch black! I try to talk him down and try to make myself submissive, but he won't go down.
More than 21 times he tells me he wants to kill me, cut me into pieces and send some after my father. Two thoughts go through my mind, how will I bring my son home and am I going to die in front of my son today?!
The week before, my ex had assaulted my eldest son at school after 2 years of no contact with him and thereforer my emergency preparedness was on alert. In fact, the day before I had told my father and a friend that if I die tomorrow, it will be my ex who has done it. I have told them to fight for my children if anything happens to me.
In the morning before I have to pick up my youngest son, who still has contact with my ex, I have spoken to Mother's Aid, but they can only listen and do nothing about the fear that is eating me up. I have no evidence.
For 3 years I have tried to explain to the municipality and the family court that it ends badly, but no one takes me seriously!
In the car on the way down to pick up my youngest son, I talk to my sister and she asks me to hold my phone in my hand and film when I pick it up and luckily I do! It will be my most important proof and finally I can do something and be listened to.
Fortunately, I have my son with me, we drive straight to the police and then to a crisis centre.
14 years of hell ends and a new battle for freedom, security and justice begins.
It is more than 5 years since I was assaulted and the day is special. Because even though it was the worst and I occasionally still hearing my son's screams for me, it was also here that we finally got our freedom.
Long after the assault, my everyday life was filled with anxiety, flashbacks and inner turmoil. Today, everyday life is no longer filled with flashbacks, but I still have the phone, which is silent, as the sound of a text message pulls me back to the time I was in psychological terror and I scan every room and place I am in order to create an overview of the situation.
I know there are thousands of stories about healing and how beautiful it is, but for me it was dark, ugly, disgusting, harsh, that required blood, sweat and tears, sleepless nights and a lot of money for professional help.
There is no easy, quick-fix solution. But there is a way of understanding and meeting yourself that supports you in resuming a vital life, even if you have severe symptoms of trauma. For some the healing journey takes a short time, for others a long time and for me it is always ongoing.
Since the violence involves an overwhelming and terrifying loss of control, it requires us as victims of violence to meet a healthy community that forms a cushion against the psychological/physical pain the perpetrator has inflicted on.
What heals are loving, caring, patient relationships. Relationships are agents of change and the most effective therapy is love between people. What helped me was working with my body as much as my head.
That means today, every morning I do 20 minutes of yoga and mindfulness, I go for long walks, I do crossfit and I bathe in the cold fjord - all this to create inner peace and control my breathing.
When I started out with my page I called myself: Out of the shadow of violence, to pass on my experience, let others have space for their story and give a sense of community, which could remove the loneliness many victims of violence have.
But in step with my own journey, I have needed to pull away from the violence and put myself first. So I use my own name. Violence will no longer control me, I control my life.
I still want to be a significant voice in the fight against violence. I still want to pass on what my psychologist gave me - love and a hand to hold!
Let's stand together and lift as a group, break taboos and take violence seriously! You are not alone!
“A heart can tear itself apart
But can you hear yours, it's still beating"

We managed to be lovers and live together for a period of over 2 1/2 to 3 years, during which I was exposed to violent psychological violence, but at the beginning everything felt absolutely perfect. We bought a house together in September 2017, but 6 months after that, he chose to move and end the relationship and I took over the house, but we continued as "friends". I thought it would get better now with more peace of mind, but then it escalated violently over time, actually over the next 2 years. During the next 2 years, there were 4 major episodes of severe physical violence and death threats, which meant that I did not dare to report him. Everything got worse, he became even more controlling and this ended with him smashing a window in my back door on 18.6.2020, breaking in and assaulting me while I was sleeping in my own house. Fortunately, I had told my neighbors to be aware and told them that I was terribly afraid of him. My neighbors discovered him by chance and tried to scare him away without success, but luckily they called the police. Never in my life have I been so scared, but at the same time I have never been so relieved as when I heard the words "It's the police". He was arrested in the act at my home, but was released 4 hours later, after which he sent a message on messenger with the wording "it must have been a bit off". I have never in my life been so disappointed with the Danish legal system and its ability to look after me as a victim, why wasn't he taken into custody, that would be the case if an unknown person had broken in and done the same? I opted out of the crisis center in the situation, but lived with my parents instead, since I had my lovely outdoor cat in the house, who had to be seen every day. Today I wish I had known that animal protection can actually help in these situations and get your pet picked up and take care of it until you are back upstairs. Took me over 1 month to get back to live in the house, but it was definitely not without anxiety and consequences for my psyche and general health. In October 2020, my cat died due to a collision, but the incident made me finally feel that I could put the house up for sale with a clear conscience. Unfortunately, it would take 3 long years to sell the house due to Several factors. I ended up with a debt totaling DKK 620,000, which I have just started a debt restructuring on here 4 years later. Has had a good effect from EMDR treatment, but the time in the house has unfortunately meant that I still have quite a few PTSD symptoms from time to time. One of the biggest changes for my self-esteem and further development came from a most unexpected place. It happened when I was employed as a flexible worker in an administrative position, a wonderful workplace with an incredibly inclusive environment. I have never met a more inclusive and "high to the ceiling" work environment, where I could just be me. It has slowly and surely brought me back to, not just my joy at work, but also my joy in life and the experience that you are always enough, exactly as you are. I wish I had received better support in my situation, where you own the house where violent episodes have happened. I still find it incredibly difficult to understand that there is no help when it comes to moving on in these situations. On June 23, 2021, judgment was handed down. He was sentenced to a paltry 60 days in prison, ordered to pay the costs of the case and compensation to me of just under DKK 22,000. I felt and still feel really let down by the Danish legislation, hang on how cheap he got off compared to how much it has affected my life and still does here 4 1/2 years later.

I have experience with all forms of violence, as I have today founded an NGO for victims of violence. But at the time when I was subjected to violence, I was not aware that there was such a thing as psychological violence. I found out about it when a citizen I volunteered for was subjected to violence where she referred to psychological violence, and then I began to investigate it myself. But I never understood how complex it was. Neither did my girlfriends, and none of us could understand why I couldn't just leave him. 
I contacted a psychologist who had experience with victims of violence, and there I found out that I was exposed to psychological, physical, sexualized, financial violence and negative social control. Slowly I understood what I was exposed to and how complex it was. I had always thought it was my fault, but the psychologist helped me understand why it was so hard to leave him; that I was in danger many times. I was really afraid to leave him, at the same time I was really afraid to be with him. It was usso hard to be broken into a thousand pieces, struggling to hold myself together and make sure he couldn't see how I felt, because then I would be exposed to something. 
My psychologist made me better able to put things into words and explain it to my friends. That way my girlfriends could be there for me, that way it was necessary. And we weren't frustrated with my situation anymore, but more strategic about how I was going to get away. I think networking is incredibly important because I felt so alone. And my girlfriends helped to give me some kind of connection to myself, so that I didn't lose myself completely. It was scary to have to talk to them about what they should do if I wasn't here anymore, and that the psychologist also asked me to give the friends access to documents and pictures. It was surreal. But if I didn't have my girlfriends as my anchor, I wouldn't have survived that relationship.
However, I think there is a need for more focus on how complex it is to be in such a relationship and how difficult it is to get away. I have notes from that time where I write that I get panic attacks because my boyfriend persuaded me to visit me. I see these kinds of notes with new eyes today. I am a professional and help other victims of violence, and having concrete examples, such as my notes, helps to explain how difficult it actually is to get away. It is one thing to say it in words, but another thing to show it with concrete examples. It could perhaps be something that could be more focused on. I also think it is important to focus on life after the violence; that it's not just over when the relationship ends. It took me many years, afterwards, to get rid of the man because he wouldn't let me be. And the traumas that I suffered also haunted mine love relationships. Getting away is hard work, as is getting the whole relationship worked out. I'm in a much better place today, thanks to friends, intense therapy, and new, healthy relationships that included the amount of patience I needed to feel comfortable with another person like that again.

After the shelter: My new name was on the mailbox, it was strange but also reassuring that at least the beast didn't know my new identity. The freshly painted walls and the smell of cleaning products were the first things I noticed when I entered my new apartment. Now I didn't just have a room that had otherwise become my security for the last six months at the crisis center. But now I stood with the keys to a 2-room apartment on the 2nd floor in the middle of the city centre. I bought a lot of used furniture and had some donated by nice people from Facebook. It was starting to look like home. However, I started sleeping on the couch anyway, not because I didn't care about the bedroom. But in the living room I felt I had an overview of the rest of the apartment. I noticed I was starting to sleep differently. I wrapped myself completely in the blanket like a burrito. The duvet had become my security when I was alone. One day I was walking in the pedestrian street and had to do some small shopping. But suddenly I saw him. I saw the beast walking towards me. I froze completely, and stood completely still. All other people passed me by like siloettes who were just there. Meanwhile he came closer and closer. Only when he passed me could I see clearly. It wasn't him, but a man with the same jacket. It was the only thing they had in common. That summer I traveled to Barcelona with a childhood friend. I sat and admired the sea from the beach, while my friend had fallen asleep. It happened again. I saw the beast walking up from the sea, aimed at me. I stiffened again, and once again felt the world stop. Only when he passed me did I see it wasn't him. I began to isolate myself more and more. I could no longer do the work I had otherwise enjoyed so much, and I had more and more sick days. I was called in sick and put on anti-depressants. It calmed me down, but also made me indifferent. I became so indifferent that I could no longer see the positive in life. I was out for a walk by the sea when I realized what I was doing. I went and planned in my head how I could get away from this world. I didn't go home, I went to the psychiatric ward. and rang the bell until they wanted to let me in. I was there for a month. It gave me diagnoses like anxiety, ptsd and severe depression, but that was it. When I was discharged, I went on a stay as a volunteer far out in the countryside. Here I had to help with various daily chores, for example cooking, cleaning or gardening. It helped me far more than being hospitalized. Here I could be me, but at the same time demands were placed on me. The man who owns the property became a friend I still keep in touch with today, and his farm has become my outdoor retreat. I started working again, I started giving lectures on intimate partner violence, volunteered at the shelter and it all started to bottle up. I healed more and more the more times I told my story. Today I only tell my own story if I stay contacted.

“I broke up with my girlfriend. It had been an abusive relationship - physically, psychologically, financially, materially...
It's been 18 years.

After that he started stalking me. It started with calls and messages in the hundreds. He also called my workplace, and that was at a time when you had landlines in the office, so he blocked the line for many hours at a time. If my colleagues answered the phone, he hung up and called back.
I felt it was extremely embarrassing even though I had no control over what he did.

It developed into him seeking me out on the way home from work. Even when I started taking a different route than usual, he found me.
When I was down shopping, he would stand and wait at the end of the till.
He knew where I usually went in town, so he came there too even though he didn't care for the place. And then he stood staring at me all night.

He also visited me at my residence, also at night.

It was intense stalking for maybe 1 year. It's so hard to remember everything that happened and how long it lasted.
It was a time filled with intense anxiety and total exhaustion. I never slept properly and often slept in my living room to be closer to the door and better hear if he was outside.

It gradually subsided because I didn't respond to anything he did or wrote. And later I also got a new partner. But the unwanted inquiries continued sporadically for 15 years.

At the time, I didn't know it was stalking. So that it really was stalking. We humans obviously have a tendency to think that what we ourselves experience is not bad enough. There is always someone who has it worse, ik... But it WAS stalking and it was violent.

My best advice to victims of stalking would be to ignore all inquiries. A stalker wants to achieve something, so interest will probably wane over time.
In addition, you can get good help from the Danish Stalking Center.”

In my childhood from the age of 9-12, I was sexually assaulted by the man my mother lived with. When you are exposed to abuse, your boundaries are moved, the shame follows you and I felt worthless. Throughout my youth I believed that sex was love and I often let men overstep my boundaries. I often had sex even though I didn't want to – banging on first dates because I thought it would make men like me! Afterwards I could hate myself, I always felt dirty and ashamed.

When I fell in love with my ex I was still not aware of my limits! So I did as he said and I did things I absolutely did not want to do today. If he wanted sex, we had sex. If I tried to say no, then the anger came and he could humiliate me until I gave in - or then the 'silent treatment' came, which could last a long time. When we had sex, among other things, he could think of calling me a whore, a scumbag, strangling me and was not interested in me and my needs - it was all about him.
After we broke up, we had an okay collaboration for the first 6 months (I was right). One day he came up to me for some clothes for the kids while the kids were with him. He entered the apartment, started kissing me and took off my clothes and fucked me - it hurt so much because I didn't want to, but didn't dare to say stop. For several days after, I tried to scrub him off when I was in the shower.

Several years later I ended up in a therapy group for other victims of violence. In that group, it occurred to me for the first time that what I had been exposed to was sexualized violence. A realization that in a way set me free from my own shackles.

Through therapy, I have been able to process the abuse I was exposed to in childhood and in adulthood. I'm not ashamed anymore and I don't feel dirty. Instead, I feel more confident about myself, my values and boundaries – I know that sex is not love!
68% of you have been exposed to sexualized violence – it is a taboo and a shame we must do away with. We need to talk about it!

In 2012 I met the teacher of my life. He subjected me to strangulation, he tried to throw me from the 5th floor, bit my ears or fingers to the point of bleeding, threw things at me, called me condescending words, spat in my face, destroyed my things, called me 24/ 7 and sent many many text messages when we were not together. He threatened me with a knife when I didn't mean the same as him or when I didn't want to say sorry for something I didn't do. He demanded to have my panties DNA tested if I came home late (there were 8 panties in freezer bags in the freezer) before I kicked him out for good.

This is just a small fraction of what I was exposed to in the year we managed to have a very toxic relationship. And then he stalked me for 2 years after that, but one day there was silence and my healing began. 
Back then I chose to fight him despite hoping he would change. It also put me in many situations where I could have lost my life as he had no self control. Fortunately, I had a good network of family and friends and I opened my mouth, so his desire to control and isolate me backfired. I had my most precious gold in my son, as I didn't know how to lose his mother, so I struggled to find my way back to me. I have gone to a psychologist, had coaches, did meditation, yoga to help myself and it has been worth its weight in gold since then. I had temporary contact with the women's crisis line and the police, but anonymously for advice and help. I have made good use of both Facebook and Instagram and had contact with wonderful women/men who have shared and helped me and I have told my story and helped other victims of violence. It has been worth its weight in gold. Today I feel much better and have the best boyfriend, who is also my best friend. But my nervous system doesn't forget, so take good care of myself every day. 

It wasn't until we had our first child that I felt something was wrong. He became frustrated with the considerations that had to be made for a baby. Frustration was directed at me because of course my focus was on the baby and the needs a baby has; I was told that I was an inept woman who could not satisfy a man. He had a violent temper and could shout and scream at me.

There are several episodes where I have been pushed. For example, after a party, where he pushed me down a hill, where I rolled down between a lot of trees, and I remember thinking now I'm going to die.
In our relationship he has also been unfaithful to me. And each time I have forgiven him. I loved him and I believed in family life. I loved what we had created.
In 2017 we get divorced, I find out he has someone else. I am devastated and unhappy. He doesn't care. He tells me it's my own fault. I still remember his words, they still burn hard in my soul. Here is what he said; you are fat, boring, stupid as wet bark, that it was my own fault, I was unintelligent, I looked like piss and he couldn't take my whining seriously and then he slipped! I was curled up back on the kitchen floor and had to take care of our children. He didn't care, he had to be with his new lady. A week later he came in her car, he didn't care about me at all.
It has been a long battle. I've been so low that I didn't believe I'd ever be myself again. But I have worked hard in therapy, I have gone to healing and today I feel the light more than the darkness. My advice is to listen to your gut and act on it. It is NEVER your fault. You are good enough.