Beyond the Whisper of Fear: From Silence to Strength
Written by Shayna,
A JFSLA DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SURVIVOR
I can finally say these words and know them to be true: I am safe. I am free.
For years, fear was all I knew. I kept my head down, afraid to talk back. Even now, internalizing the immense weight of that experience is difficult. The deepest wounds were the physical pain and the slow deterioration of my sense of self. My self-worth became a whisper I couldn’t hear over the constant noise of criticism and control. I tried to be the perfect wife, believing that if I complied, the danger would stop. That isolation became my prison, convincing me no one would understand or believe me.
Through Jewish Family Service LA, I found compassion, community, and a renewed sense of purpose. Today, I use my story to raise awareness about sustaining domestic violence programs and to remind survivors that they are not alone. My message is one of courage, resilience, and hope, a reminder that from even the darkest places, new light can emerge.
My thirty-year relationship with my abuser was tumultuous from the start. I began as his confidant, counseling him through depression, and when our friendship became romantic, that role was cemented. His violence was unpredictable and brutal—grabbing, striking, and shoving me into walls. I slowly withered under the weight of his words, my identity fading by the constant gaslighting and verbal abuse.
The abuse went through cycles, quiet phases that domestic violence survivors tragically cling to as hope. During a quiet phase, I became pregnant with my son. I hoped it would change him. It did not. It became one of the most brutal phases of our relationship. But the line was truly crossed when the threats became specific. He looked into my eyes and told me he would kill me if I tried to leave. My children’s lives became the focus—their safety, my urgent priority.
The day I fled was terrifying, but I took a breath, woke my children, and we slipped away in silence. Calling Jewish Family Service LA and leaving everything behind was the bravest thing I’ve ever done. As the car drove us to safety, I held my children’s hands, knowing our new journey had begun.
A Safe Haven
At JFSLA’s Valley Storefront, I was greeted by Kitty Glass, the Community Outreach Coordinator, who gently asked me to share the truth that brought me there. She arranged for us to go to a temporary shelter, providing us with a safe place to stay. JFSLA didn’t just offer assistance, they offered a new beginning. I stayed at JFS Hope’s shelter for about a month.
JFSLA connected me with free legal services to finalize my divorce. For nearly four years, I received free individual and group therapy, a true lifeline that helped me find myself once again. I joined support groups with other survivors, and there was something profoundly powerful about being among people who have walked in my shoes. Some sessions included art therapy, which I found both calming and empowering. JFS Hope also created small celebrations for families, such as Hanukkah parties, fostering a strong sense of community. During the pandemic, I continued counseling on Zoom, which offered hope and connection in uncertain times. When COVID-19 subsided, I chose to pause my counseling participation and focus inward. My children were more independent, and it was time to rediscover passions I had long set aside.
In 2022, while searching online for activities, I found JFSLA’s Valley Storefront Community Resource Center, which offered a free gym for seniors. Seniors? I laughed—guess that includes me now. I met Christine Tafralian, the energetic Activities Director who welcomed me right in. Soon I was working out in a peaceful gym and signing up for classes including creative writing, singing, improv, current events, grief group, and more. Over the past two years, these classes have helped me rediscover myself. They’ve expanded my mind and helped me grow in ways I never expected. I’ve made friends and taken risks I never imagined.
Saved by My Community
My story is a testimony to the terrifying reality of domestic violence. JFSLA’s services didn’t just give me safety—it gave me my life back, my children peace, and the strength to rebuild. I broke the cycle of abuse and helped my children relearn what love and respect truly look like. But I’ve learned these programs don’t survive on hope alone.
They rely on funding, community support, and people who care enough to keep doors open for survivors like me. When you give, you are upholding the values that make our community strong. You are saying to survivors, you are not alone. You are part of us. You are worthy of love and safety.
To every survivor who might be reading this, please hold on. You are not invisible, and you are not alone. The path forward may seem uncertain, but there is a community waiting to lift you up, to listen without judgment, and to walk beside you as you heal.
If you or someone you know needs help now, please call one of our 24-hour crisis lines at 818-505-0900 or 323-681-2626. For more information about JFS Hope, please visit jfsla.org/hope.
