There are some stories that don’t begin with peace.
They begin with violence. With injustice. With a pain that shouldn’t exist.
One person recently shared a post online that stopped us in our tracks. It started like this:
“Two years ago today, I lost my mother. She was my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and she was taken from us by someone who should have never had the chance... ”
The rest of their words were raw, full of heartbreak, and impossible to read without pausing to breathe.
What do you do when the person you lost didn’t pass peacefully?
When you weren’t given time or closure—but instead left with trauma, fury, and silence?
Sometimes grief doesn’t look like we think it should.
It’s not tidy. It doesn’t always feel like love in disguise.
Sometimes, grief is a scream.
But still—we remember.
Not because it’s easy. But because we must.
In this story, their mother wasn’t just someone they loved. She was someone who lit up every room. Someone who held the dog close, who laughed hard, who gave her child a sense of safety in a world that doesn’t always offer it.
And someone took her away.
Domestic violence doesn’t always show up with bruises. Sometimes it shows up with control. With silence. With subtle manipulation. With the exhaustion of walking on eggshells.
And too often—it ends like this.
So what do we do with that kind of story?
We tell it.
We honor her name by refusing to let it disappear.
We remember her warmth and protect it by standing up for others still here.
And we learn the signs. We look closer.
Because sometimes, the best way to cherish someone… is to make sure their story doesn’t become someone else’s.
If someone in your life is pulling away, seems different, or jokes about how their partner “wouldn’t like that”—don’t ignore it.
Ask again. Stay present. Offer to sit with them while they call for help.
If you need that same help, know this:
You do not have to be in danger to be in pain.
You don’t have to wait until it’s “that bad” to get out.
You are worth safety, every time.
Here’s where you can start:
National Domestic Violence Hotline
📞 Call: 800-799-7233
📱 Text: START to 88788
We often say “I promise that I’ll always remember.”
But remembering isn’t just a feeling. It’s an action.
Let’s remember loudly. Let’s protect deeply.
And let’s never let someone’s story end without meaning.
