On August 19, 2022 we held our first annual Stories Project Art Event, at the Vibrant Vine Winery in Kelowna, B.C.
We took segments from stories submitted by survivors of domestic abuse and gave them to artists to interpret into the medium of their choice. The result was a "vibrant" evening full of inspiration, awareness and connection. If you have a story you would like to submit for next year or if you're an artist that would like to participate, please contact us kelownawomensshelter1980@gmail.com
The woman who inspired this whole project - Monique Cusson. See more about her here.
Watch Facebook Live Video here.
We looked like a great family. I lived in a nice house, my father drove a nice car, I had all the best clothes, and my hair and make-up were always perfect. It was all an act to hide the truth. I remember one of my friends saying she was so jealous of me because my father would always give me money on a Saturday to go buy stuff. But what she didn’t know was that he only did that cause the night before he had broken my things in a fit of anger. As a kid, I stopped replacing things because I no longer saw the point.
~A child
When I was 15, my mum and I went into a shelter. My brother chose to stay with our father as he was too embarrassed to leave. We stayed there for a little bit then we got our own place. My mother still struggles with depression and would have periods where she was so nasty to everyone around her just to push them away. Now
I have 2 boys of my own. I have had a couple of successful relationship but could never commit fully as I just never regained my trust. How could the person that is supposed to love you the most hurt you and break your spirit?
~A child
I remember my mother would always try to protect us as she always knew when he was going to turn violent. The three of us would be sitting watching television or chatting and he would walk into the room, and she could always tell before we did. I remember the one night he ran at me. My mother stood in his way and told my brother and I to run upstairs to our room. He chased us, caught my mum on the stairs, and started to punch her but she would not move. My brother and I were terrified and just sat on her bed silent waiting for it all to end. We never spoke about the attacks ever.
~A child
The Beginning. It was January 6th, 2016. I took a kitchen garbage bag and I stuffed a few toiletries and a few clothes and I went to work as I normally do at my usual time. It was the only way I could think of to leave undetected. I had no intention of going home that day. That was the beginning. I was terrified but in a numb sort of way. Shock, fear, disbelief and numbness. I did it. I got out. Or so I thought. I had no idea that you don't just walk out and your life changes. It doesn't happen that way. It's just not that easy. The road ahead is not going to be what I expect and the journey had just begun. A series of failures and triumphs. Not in that order. You fall down and you get back up again. Sometimes you don't feel like it and sometimes it takes longer but you always get back up again.
~Survivor
The violence that we were enduring from him in our day-today lives spanned every type described in the law, and several that the law does not even acknowledge - but the system doesn’t want to hear testimony or weigh evidence, it only wants everyone to pretend it didn’t happen and make agreements so that the court’s own time is not “wasted” on family matters. The law needs to change to truly address the reality that coercive & vicious behaviours are used to terrorize us once we file for divorce, and also that it’s used to terrorize some of us into staying in dangerous homes. Our choices as mothers should not be between entering into a legal system that severely penalizes us for asserting Family Violence, or staying put and continuing to be abused until the children age out.
~Survivor
This is not a story purely of tragedy but instead, a story also of success and of survival. The day I left him for good was the day my life slowly started to evolve and blossom. The progress was slow, meandering, and some days I was so riddled with anxiety I could barely move, paralyzed by my past. Along with the unshakable support of my best friends, I turned to running and writing as my therapies. Everyday I would look in the mirror and think “Be patient and kind with yourself. It takes time to heal.” I felt with this newfound freedom, I owed it to myself, and those around me, to give life another shot; to start over. I went on to travel overseas, move to new cities, obtain a university degree and secure a great job, well paying and fulfilling. I went sky diving, ran 10km races, half marathons, and a short triathlon.
~Survivor
There were a couple of things that saved my life, and I do mean saved my life because, if I stayed, I do believe he may have taken it. One was the internet. The other was outside support and safety. I so vividly remember the day I started to research abuse. The education provided me a way to see things from an objective prospective. It allowed me to step out of my current situation, outside of myself even and see things for what they were. Often times when I would leave, it was not pre-meditated, it was a fight or flight response. It was, “If I don’t leave right now, there’s a good chance he might strangle me to death.” After seeing stars one too many times, I reached out to a dear friend. On that day, I was calm and focused, a rare mental state in those days. She had a safe space for me to stay and it was at least an hour away, which was just what I needed. The physical space brought emotional and psychological space; it brought vulnerability, honesty, and support.
~Survivor
I have heard people accuse me, saying that “I did this”…“brought this on myself”… that I “broke my family” by ending my marriage. I’ll tell you one thing, I did not break my family - By escaping my marriage I fixed my family. Clocking a 20th year of “smoke & mirrors” while in reality my children & I were being severely harmed by all types of his violence towards us - that would’ve broken us. No, I didn’t break my family - I rescued my family before the damage became truly irreparable. I did not know how hard it would be to actually escape. On my 5th attempt, I finally found the courage to completely escape my marriage. I believed that no matter what happened next, any life was sure to be so much better, easier, safer, than the ugly truth of the life that was going on inside of our home.
~Survivor
I’m glad that I did not know how much worse it was about to get. I wouldn’t have wanted anything to stop me from having the courage to finally decide that “This. Stops. Now.” Two things were complete shocks to me in the aftermath of my standing up to him: First, I was devastated to discover that, in reality, Canada’s Family Law system is entirely incompetent and negligent in its stated duty to protect children and their mothers, from the continued harm of post-separation abuse. I understand now why the re-victimization caused by this legal system scares so many women into just staying with abusive men instead.
~Survivor
While I was trying to figure out how to get myself and my daughters out safely, one of my dearest friends told me that she planned to leave her marriage too, but that she was terrified of how vicious he would become if she tried to leave him. Vicious. This is the word that perfectly described both of our husbands when exposed, confronted, challenged on their coercive abusive behaviours. Vicious. She knew that she could not face that - so instead she had a plan to sit quietly for 5 years until the kids were all aged out, then she will disappear without a word. Every day I hope that she makes it to that 5 year plan. As for my house, I knew that there was no way we would all survive 5 years, never mind the 13 years it would be until my littlest aged out. . I was terrified of his extreme rages and his expressed hatred of us all, and i knew that he was going to end up killing one of us.
~Survivor
At 14 years of age, I had to leave my home. It put severe strain on my relationship with my mother, until I was in my 20s, at which point my stepfather had left my mom for another woman. My mom became not only an alcoholic because of the stress of the relationship, but eventually started smoking crack to numb the past. Which only incurred more pain from more abusive men. She had boyfriends who would hit her in the face with a telephone until she was almost unconscious. She had men steal all of her money and possession. She never pressed charges. She blamed herself.
~Survivor
On October 1st, 2020 she committed suicide. I lost the only biological family I had. If it wasn't for her being abused for 20 years, I think she still would be here today. She was only 54. I miss her more than any words can describe, without her, my heart barely beats. If there is one thing that I know, it's that the first time is never the last. There will always be more. It will only get worse. Get out while you are still alive.
~Survivor
It was pure rage, his face hot with anger, holding me by the throat high up against the walls, spitting in my hair, dumping stale beer from the night before all over my head, gripping my body so tight that bruises in the shape of his fingers were left in their place. But his rage was always followed by his tears and his apologies, by his begging. “Please don’t leave me, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I do this, I will never do it again.” Those words, “I’ll never do it again” seemed to hang in the air like thick smoke over raging forest fires. They echoed like the ripples from a rock tossed in a pool of calm waters. They are the words I clung to as my life continued to crumble around me.
~Survivor
He was older than I was by almost ten years, and I was very young, only 19. He seemed charming and kind, gentle even. On our first date, he told me he was a chef and cooked us an elegant meal. He was a thoughtful gift giver, and talked about our future together often. He was “ecstatic” about us, he would say. I’m not sure what started the first fight. I almost never remembered what started them. All I know is that one day everything changed. “If you leave me, I will blow my brains out.” I stood their in shock as he started to sob, guilt washing over me. I knew from the first time he put his hands around my neck and wouldn’t let go, that the way he was treating me was wrong. But he was so much more broken than I was. How could I leave him like that? I knew he needed help, and so I made it my mission to be the person that would save him.
Don’t hesitate to get in touch if you need us.
Our support team is on duty 24/ 7 and ready to help.
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