Where Hope Lives – Inside JFSLA’s domestic violence program
By Vivian Engle, MFT
Senior Clinician, JFSLA

When someone reaches out to JFS Hope, it’s often because they’ve been living with abuse—and they’re ready, in their own time and way, for something to change. Sometimes, they’ve left behind their home, their job, their identity—and they’re stepping into the unknown, carrying layers of trauma and fear. At JFS Hope, we meet them there. Right at that moment. Not with judgment, but with compassion, clarity, and calm.
We serve survivors of intimate partner violence—adults and children—through a trauma-informed lens. That means we see the whole person, not just their symptoms. We start with, “What has your life experience been?” not “What’s wrong with you?” Because survivors are not broken. They are strong. They have survived situations that most people couldn’t imagine. And our job is not to take over and redirect their life choices—it’s to help restore their sense of agency, which is often the first thing abuse takes away.
Our program includes two emergency shelters, a transitional housing program, an outpatient counseling center in North Hollywood, and a satellite office in West LA. Together, we provide what I would call a full continuum of care — offering individual counseling, support groups, case management, parenting education, and age-appropriate activities tailored for children.
“Because survivors are not broken. They are strong.
They have survived situations that most people couldn’t imagine.”
Vivian Engle, MFT
Senior Clinician, JFSLA
Each new arrival is met with care, dignity, and reassurance that they are safe. Our shelters are clean, cozy homes in residential neighborhoods—not institutional barracks with cots. A soft bed, fresh new linens, a private room, and space to breathe help create an atmosphere where healing can begin. These details matter. Every client receives brand-new bedding and towels to reinforce the message: this is your space. You deserve it. At Hope, therapy begins with grounding. We assess immediate needs, offer emotional stabilization, and create a safe space where each person can truly be heard. In those early days, even simply hearing, “You’re not crazy — this is what emotional and psychological abuse can feel like,” can be profoundly transformative.
For children, we meet them with creativity, play, and steady care. Many don’t fully understand why they had to leave home, carrying confusion alongside their fear. But once they feel seen and safe, they begin to open — in their own way, at their own pace. That is the space and atmosphere we create, and the pace we honor.
Our emergency shelters provide 30 to 45 days of wraparound services, where each resident works closely with a case manager and has access to individual counseling, individual parenting support, and group services. Our transitional housing program offers up to two years of stability for survivors working toward long-term independence. These clients engage in services while juggling real-life demands — jobs, school, legal proceedings — and the focus is not on perfection, but on steady, meaningful progress.
At our outpatient center, a variety of therapy options are available. Clients may come to us years after separating from an abusive partner. Many are parenting alone, employed, and appear stable—but trauma lives on. They describe symptoms like brain fog, nightmares, emotional numbness, distrust, and parenting struggles. Often, they say, “I’ve been in survival mode for so long—I don’t know how to feel safe anymore.” That is when we begin the deeper work: helping to gently rewire the parts of the brain that have been conditioned to expect constant threat.
Some of our most powerful work happens in group therapy. We facilitate multiple groups weekly, blending education on boundaries, codependency, and self-esteem with the healing power of shared experience. Survivors often say, “I feel like we were married to the same person.” While every story is unique, the emotional core—the wounds, the patterns, the longing for healing—is often strikingly similar.
Our groups are open-ended, and when new clients join, they are welcomed without needing to explain themselves — everyone just fits in. Over time, friendships form. Clients lean on one another, sharing resources, support, and even humor. Because so often, healing doesn’t happen in isolation — it happens in community.
We currently offer services in English and Spanish, with clinicians who are not just bilingual, but bicultural. Our Spanish-speaking groups often reflect on generational differences in parenting and cultural expectations. Clients reflect on the values they were raised with and how those beliefs intersect with raising children in a different culture. These conversations become powerful moments of clarity—asking, what do I want to carry forward, and what am I ready to leave behind? These are sacred questions.
Everything we do is voluntary. We do not expect immediate change or linear healing. Some clients disappear and return years later. We welcome them back. Our door is always open. Our hope is that, if they remember anything about their time with us, it is that Hope was a safe place—and they can return when they are ready.
People often ask, “How do clients find JFS Hope?” Many come through referrals—shelters, law enforcement, social service agencies– But many more come through word of mouth. Because someone they trusted once found safety here.
And this work does not happen in a vacuum. It takes a village—volunteers who answer our crisis lines, donors who stock our homes with essentials, community members who organize drives for fresh bedding and hygiene items. These are not just things. They are tools of restoration.
We also care for our staff. This work is profound, and it carries real weight. Vicarious trauma is part of the reality we face. We check in with one another. We offer support. We remind each other to rest, and we unplug when we can. Because to truly show up for our clients, we first have to show up whole and grounded for ourselves.
One woman told us her first night at the shelter was the best sleep she had had in years. Not because the bed was soft—but because, for the first time in a long time, she and her children were not afraid.
That is the heart of our work. Not just offering shelter—but restoring safety and building strength. Rebuilding identity. Empowering lives. And planting the seeds of resilience through safe, trustworthy relationships.
If you are a survivor of domestic abuse, you are not alone—and you do not have to carry this on your own. When you are ready, we will be here to walk alongside you.
This story is shared in honor of Mental Health Awareness Month—a time to reaffirm why trauma-informed care matters and why holding space for healing is essential to both individual and community well-being.
If you or someone in your life needs protection from domestic violence, please call the JFSLA 24-hour crisis line at (818) 505-0900 or (323) 681-2626 or visit our website for more information www.jfsla.org/hope.