What it lacks is the heart, the humanity.”

~ Shirley Chisholm

There is a difference between causing harm and participating in the conditions that allow harm to continue.

Naming that difference is not cruelty.

It is how progress begins.

Complicity

Let’s talk about complicity.

Complicity is different.

Complicity is not fear‑based silence.

Complicity is not being trapped.

Complicity is choice without coercion. A lot of us have engaged in this at one time or another in our lives. Unless we take the time to name it, claim it, confront it, and deal it…progress stalls. Even worse, it can stop. 

It looks like:

• knowing harm is happening
• hearing multiple warnings
• seeing clear patterns
• benefiting from staying aligned
• protecting access to reputation, money, community, or comfort
• discrediting victims
• reframing violence as misunderstanding
• repeatedly covering for someone who continues to harm

And sometimes, when that man finally harms someone publicly, another move appears:

Using the language of women’s protection to avoid accountability.

Hiding behind phrases like:

“Do not blame women.” (the smaller font is intentional because that is small character stuff. Some folks are wearing that song out. A few things are actually our fault. One or two things.)

Not to protect women who actually are coerced.

Not to protect Survivors.

But a shield to protect themselves from being named for what they chose.

That is not feminism.

That is not solidarity.

That is reputation management.

This is not the same as committing the abuse.

But it is participation in the conditions that allow abuse to repeat.

Not loudly. Not dramatically. But effectively.

As I said, many of us have been guilty of this at one time or another. We may have thought it was the only way, the best way, or what felt right. Many of us can choose differently. 

Why naming complicity is not “blame”

Blame says:

You caused his violence.

Accountability says:

You chose your response to it.

Those are not the same statement.

A person can be innocent of the crime and still responsible for their choices around it.

Silence is a choice.

Protection is a choice.

Public loyalty is a choice.

Discrediting women is a choice.

And using women’s pain as a shield to avoid being named is also a choice.

These choices shape whether harm spreads or stops.

Naming that reality is not an attack on women.

It is a refusal to let the language of women’s safety be used to protect people who knowingly stood beside harm.

Violence does not survive through male perpetrators alone. Women have been holding up individual harm doers and entire harmful systems since harm began. The truth will set us free but we have to tell it all. 

Violence does not survive through male perpetrators without aid and assistance from female individuals and networks.

Women are human beings. That means we are not only capable of being flawed-we ARE flawed. Sometimes what you did is your fault. You were WRONG. It turns out that pain, suffering and harm has the same impact when women participate or dish it directly too. 

The good news though, is that change is a choice. Women are known for changing our minds. That’s our brand.  

Telling the truth about participation in harm is not the same as blaming people for violence.

This is not new.

We require people who have a history with betrayal, people who go before parole boards, people requesting forgiveness, people requesting a new beginning, and others to do this all the time. Change requires truths from us all. 

Where trust is requested people must see proof that an individual has taken accountability for their part in harm.

Real accountability has weight.

It sounds like:

• naming what we protected
• naming who was harmed
• naming what we ignored
• naming what they benefited from
• naming what we would do differently now

Not excuses.

Not spiritual language.

Not public performances of regret.

But clear ownership of our own choices.

Without that, requests for trust ask others to carry risk they did not create.

That is not reconciliation.

That is displacement.

Recognizing one’s own complicity is not humiliation.

It is character development.

It is the moment someone moves from self-protection to moral adulthood.

It is how people become safer to be near.

A womanist truth

Black women, women across the Black diaspora, women from many Asian cultures, and other women whose cultures taught them to carry pain quietly, where emotional restraint is often mistaken for strength and silence is mistaken for maturity — we were trained early to hold other people’s secrets.

To protect family names.

To protect movements.

To protect men who are called “important.”

To protect institutions that never protected us.

Some of us were coerced into that role.

Some of us survived it.

And some were taught to confuse loyalty with goodness.

We can hold compassion for survival without romanticizing silence that protects harm.

Both truths can live together.

What progress actually requires

Progress does not require turning women into villains.

It does not require erasing fear.

It does not require cruelty.

It requires honesty.

Clear language.

And moral boundaries that are strong enough to protect the vulnerable.

That means we can say:

• You did not cause his violence.
• You may have been trapped.
• You may have been surviving.
• And some people, without coercion, choose to protect harm.

Those statements do not cancel each other out.

They create clarity.

For Survivors reading this

If you stayed quiet to stay alive — this is not about you.

If you protected your children by moving carefully — this is not about you.

If you were calculating safety minute by minute — this is not about you.

Your nervous system deserves respect.

Your intelligence deserves honor.

But if you were harmed and then watched others protect the person who hurt you…

Your reality also deserves language.

You are not cruel for noticing.

You are not divisive for naming it.

You are not wrong for telling the truth.

Closing

Telling the truth about participation in harm is not the same as blaming people for violence.

It is the difference between a world that manages abuse and a world that finally learns how to interrupt it.

Survivors do not need softer lies.

They need precise truth.

And communities strong enough to hold it.

—

WeSurviveAbuse exists to protect dignity, language, and reality for Survivors everywhere.

The post Telling the Truth Is Not Blame: Responsibility, Survival, and Complicity in a World That Harms Women appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

There’s something deeply dangerous about how we’re taught to think about harm—

We’re told:
“If someone was really that bad, wouldn’t we know?”
“If they did that to you, why didn’t I ever see it?”
“That doesn’t sound like the person I know.”

But here’s the truth that too many refuse to face:

Predators do not play by the same rules as the rest of us.

They don’t operate on honesty.
They don’t operate on empathy.
They don’t operate on shared community values.
They operate on manipulation, deception, and control.

🎭 People Don’t See the Same Version of Them

You may know the smiling coach.
The friendly neighbor.
The respected leader.
The one who always volunteers.

Survivors often knew someone else entirely.

The version that isolates.
The version that coerces.
The version that harms in silence, but hugs in public.

And when someone finds the courage to reveal that hidden version, the world doesn’t want to see it.

They come for the messenger, instead of the message.
They say it’s “confusing,” “hard to believe,” “out of character.”
But the confusion exists because you were never meant to see the truth. That’s how predators survive. For years. For decades.

🔍 Most People’s Reactions Are Based on Naive Assumptions:

1. That everyone tells the truth.

2. That no one would deliberately harm someone they claim to love.

3. That we’re all playing by the same moral rules.

But predators build lives around bending those rules.
They count on your disbelief.
They count on your loyalty.
They count on Survivors being too afraid to speak—because they already know:

When truth comes out, it’s the Survivor who gets scrutinized.
It’s the Survivor who gets picked apart.
It’s the Survivor who gets punished for speaking.

🚨 We Need to Shift Our Lens

Instead of asking,

“Why didn’t I see it?”
Try:
“What might they have worked hard to hide from me?”

Instead of saying,

“That doesn’t sound like him.”
Try:
“What does it cost her to say this out loud?”

Instead of shutting people down,

Listen deeper. Ask better questions. Protect first. Process later.

🕯️ For the Survivors Who Were Punished for Telling the Truth:

We see you.
You weren’t wrong.
You weren’t too much.
You weren’t imagining things.

You were up against someone who wasn’t even playing the same game.

And while others tried to keep the illusion intact—
you chose the truth.

That’s not weakness. That’s legacy-level courage.

Share if you feel safe and ready—your voice might be the lifeline someone else needs.
And if you do share, remember to cite the messenger. Words carry legacy.

[rosaschildren.com] | [wesurviveabuse.com] | [survivoraffirmations.com]

The post Predators Don’t Play by the Same Rules appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

[WeSurviveAbuse.com]

Some men don’t fear the harm they cause.
They fear the moment a woman finally says,
“You will not harm me anymore.”

This is perpetrator fragility—
when a man responds to being held accountable as if he’s the one being abused.
When your boundaries feel like betrayal to him.
When your voice sounds like violence to him.
When your truth is treated like treason.

He doesn’t say:
🛠 “I need to take responsibility.”
He says:
🧍🏾‍♂️ “You’re trying to destroy me.”

This is not confusion.
This is conditioning.

For generations, men have been taught that their worth is measured in how much control they have over others—especially over women.
So when you take your power back, they don’t just lose control.
They lose the false identity they’ve wrapped their ego in.

And they crumble.
Or lash out.
Or cry out for sympathy.

Suddenly he’s the victim, and you’re cast as the villain.
Even if you were just trying to survive.

🎓 What the Experts Teach Us:

Dr. Beth Richie calls this part of the gender entrapment that Black women face.
We are taught to protect the men who harm us, even when our safety is on the line.
Dr. Carolyn West reminds us that many Black women are told they must “keep it in the family,” “ride or die,” or “not air dirty laundry.”

And so, when you try to name the harm…
You are told you’re harming him.

TRUTH:

You are not wrong for setting boundaries.
You are not evil for telling the truth.
You are not dangerous for demanding peace.
You are not too much.
You are finally enough—for yourself.

His fragility is not your responsibility.

💥 We say this with love, power, and truth:

• You do not have to carry the guilt he will not face.

• You do not have to hold the silence that keeps you in pain.

• You do not have to protect the person who would not protect you.

You are not here to babysit his shame.

You are here to heal.

You are here to be free.

You are here to survive—and thrive.

The post ✋🏽 When Accountability Feels Like an Attack to Him appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

Some truths are not too complex to understand—they’re just too inconvenient to admit.

Even toddlers can identify patterns. I once babysat a precious little girl who would simply run up to me, point to her sisters, and yell, “Her!”
Translation: They did it again. Make it stop.
She didn’t need fancy language. She had clarity.

Now imagine if I played dumb and made her explain again. And again. And again. 

That would make me the villain, right?

We laugh at pattern recognition in funny cat videos. We praise it when detectives solve crimes. We teach it in schools: “A, B, C… what comes next?”
Patterns are how we make sense of life.

🧠 So why do people act brand new when it comes to patterns of harm?
Why do some people feign confusion when a woman says, “He’s done this before” or when a Black person says, “This is not the first time”?

Let’s be honest.
Harm always has a pattern.
Whether it’s domestic violence, stalking, racism, sexual harassment, rape, or femicide—it rarely comes out of nowhere.

Think about it:

• Courts of law rely on patterns to convict abusers and criminals. 

• Social media thrives on identifying trends and behaviors.

• Teachers spot patterns in learning. Parents spot patterns in tantrums.

• Survivors spot patterns in abuse.
  But only one of these is treated like it’s not real.

And when Survivors speak out?
They are met with the same handful of dismissive responses, dressed in different clothes:

• “What’s the big deal?”

• “You’re being dramatic.”

• “If it were me…..”

• “Well, maybe they didn’t mean it like that.”

• “It only happened once—let it go.”

• “But they’re nice to me…”

• “Maybe you’re just too sensitive.”

• “I don’t care so maybe you should not care.”

• “Everyone makes mistakes.”

💡 Let’s be real: Pattern denial isn’t naivety. It’s strategy.

It’s an willful way to protect abusers, not the abused.
It’s how people gaslight not just one person, but entire communities.

And for Survivors trying to claw their way out of the fog—that denial cuts deepest.

Because pattern denial isn’t just careless.
It’s sinister.
It’s intentional.
It’s a form of betrayal.

📌For Victims of the Specific and Individual Acts of Harm, Confusion is Valid.
When you’re in the middle of trauma, clarity doesn’t come easy. You’re in survival mode, grasping for air that won’t poison you.

But those who claim confusion after the pattern of harm against others has been laid out in full color—
those who pretend they just can’t see it?
They are not confused.
They are complicit.

🔔 Pattern denial is how harm gets protected and repeated.

So when someone shows you they refuse to see the pattern, believe that pattern too.

Some people play dumb to avoid accountability.
And some of us don’t have the luxury of pretending.

The post 🎯 Pattern Denial: The Sinister Art of Pretending Not to Know appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

Photo by KoolShooters/Pexels.com

Survivors often face: the coercion to disappear inside someone else’s reflection.

Some people weren’t looking for love.
They were looking for someone to become them.
To abandon their own voice.
To live in quiet agreement.
To be a mirror—
not a person.

They didn’t want connection.
They wanted reflection.

🪞 Survivors Know This All Too Well.

So many of us have lived under the rule of people who were not content to simply be themselves.

No.
They demanded that we erase who we were,
and reflect back only what they wanted to see.

We weren’t allowed to evolve.
To question.
To say, “This doesn’t feel right.”

Because when we stopped being useful as a reflection,
we became a threat.

⚠️ This Wasn’t Just Control—It Was Colonization of the Spirit.

Instead of finding their own people—
the way all human beings must do—
they made us their tribe by force.

Through fear.
Through manipulation.
Through silencing.
Through shame.

We were made to carry their truth and deny our own.

✊🏾 But the Soul Can’t Live in Captivity.

To survive, many of us went silent.
But silence is not surrender—it’s a waiting place.
And now that we have voice again,
we speak the truth that once had to hide.

We are not vessels.
We are not mirrors.
We are not extensions of someone else’s pain or performance.

We are sovereign.
We are whole.
We are here.
And we are ourselves—without apology.

💜 This Is Why Boundaries Matter.

Boundaries say:
You may be who you are—but you do not get to rewrite who I am.

They protect our right to exist outside of someone else’s fantasy.
They shield us from being erased in the name of “love.”
They restore the sacred truth:

We were never created to be mirrors.
We were created to be light.

The post They Weren’t Just Controlling—They Were Consuming appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

It is not women who are being exclusionary when we protect our spaces.

When people refuse to recognize that many males are vulnerable to male violence, they are the ones being exclusionary.
They are the ones ignoring the full, complex truth. That disabled males, poor males, elderly males, small framed males, minoritized males, migrant and refugee males are all at elevated risk of male violence. 

We cannot heal wounds we refuse to see.
We cannot prevent violence we refuse to name.

The real problem is not women drawing necessary boundaries to safeguard themselves and others.
The real failure is deeper—and it fails everyone.

It is the failure to get to the root.

Getting to the Root

When we refuse to get to the root of an issue, all we do is polish the surface.
It may look like progress from the outside, but for those who needed real change the most, nothing meaningful has shifted.

• Failing to address brutal, inhumane prison policies where violence festers and spreads.

• Failing to fix the criminal justice system that often hardens, rather than heals, brokenness.

• Failing to intervene early in schools, families, and communities, where young boys learn that dominance and violence are their only tools.

• Failing to provide financial resources, opportunity, and dignity to vulnerable communities.

• Failing to invest in real, accessible mental health care that could break the cycles of harm before they turn fatal.

When you fail to do these things, you fail boys. You fail men. You fail women. You fail families. You fail entire generations.

True healing, true justice, true transformation requires more than just satisfying, “I want.”
There must be something deeper gained—something that uplifts, protects, and restores lives, not just appearances.

You cannot solve these enormous, bleeding wounds with legalizing magical thinking.
You cannot chant a few new words, slap new labels on people, and expect centuries of violence, inequality, and trauma to disappear.

The truth is this:
Real inclusion does not ignore the suffering of anyone.
Real inclusion demands that we look squarely at the ways that systems, cultures, and institutions have abandoned so many—especially vulnerable males—and created conditions for more violence.

If you are serious about safety, dignity, and healing, you must be serious about root causes.
Anything less is performance, not progress.

Males have always needed to come together and create real healing spaces for themselves that are steeped in love and accountability. Like women, men need 24/7/365 care options and facilities. BUT, that must come from men. We can’t keep allowing men to shoe horn themselves into spaces that women cultivated for ourselves. Because…..then we no longer have spaces for ourselves!

Women protecting our spaces?
That’s wisdom.
That’s experience speaking.
That’s survival knowledge passed down from women who lived through—and sometimes died because of—being unprotected.

We protect our spaces because we know the reality:
Violence does not vanish because we wish it away.
It vanishes because we confront it fully, courageously, and systemically.

And that work?
That is work for all of us.

***PS…one glance around this world ought to tell us that we all

need many, many, many, more healing spaces.

AND, women need our own healing spaces for our individual and unique needs.

The post The Real Exclusion Happens When We Refuse to Face the Truth: Male on Male Violence appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

1st #wbnamerica recipient..turns out her fav author is Maya Angelou

Trust is not a gift.
Trust is built.
Earned.
Sustained through action, protection, and accountability.

But what happens when a society builds its laws, culture, and institutions to shield, excuse, and uplift harmful males—even as women and children bleed, suffer, and disappear?

What happens is what we are living now:

• Women who don’t report.

• Girls who don’t tell.

• Survivors who whisper instead of scream.

• Communities that cover instead of confront.

• And generations of harm wrapped in silence.

A society that trusts predators over protectors cannot expect to be trusted in return.

Because how can you trust:

• Schools that ignore abuse reports to protect reputations?

• Faith spaces that preach forgiveness for men but banish the women they harmed?

• Movements, political parties, and families that center male feelings over female safety?

You can’t.

And you shouldn’t.

🛑 A society that centers harmful males does not deserve the trust of women. Or girls. Or children. Or safe adults.

It has broken that trust. Repeatedly. Historically. Systemically.

We are taught that trust must be earned—except when it comes to systems that have proven themselves unsafe.

We are told to give the benefit of the doubt—even when doubt could cost us everything.

We are told to forgive. To be nice. To be understanding.
Even when the world refuses to understand us.

But let this be known:

✨ The era of unearned trust is over.
✨ The age of blind loyalty to abusive power is over.
✨ The demand for accountability is not a trend—it is a rebirth.

If a society wants trust, it must:

• Center safety.

• Build justice.

• Hold the line.

• Stand up to harm—no matter who the harmer is.

Until then, suspicion is not paranoia. It’s wisdom.
Caution is not cruelty. It’s protection.
Distance is not coldness. It’s survival.

And silence? That’s no longer an option.

Violation is the Crime (Post Compilation)

The post A Society That Centers Harmful Males Will Never Have Trust—And It Doesn’t Deserve It appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

But let me tell you something that experience and sacred witness have taught me:
Even when they can’t find the right words—
they still deserve to be heard.

There are those who believe that healing must be shouted from rooftops, written in bestselling memoirs, or captured in a documentary special. That if the words aren’t intellectual, powerful, quotable… they don’t count.

But Survivors are not auditioning for understanding.
They are reaching for oxygen.

I’ve sat with people whose pain spilled out in ways that didn’t fit the mold.

Who didn’t have access to “trauma language,” who weren’t fluent in therapy-speak or academic discourse.

Who didn’t say “I was violated”—they said “I felt dirty and didn’t know why.” Who didn’t say “I was manipulated”—they said “I kept trying to be good so they wouldn’t hurt me again.”

And every single word was valid. Every silence, too.

It’s time we stop placing the burden of eloquence on those who are just trying to survive.
Let’s not confuse quiet with consent.
Let’s not confuse broken sentences with broken credibility.
Let’s not confuse different expressions with lack of truth.

Your job isn’t to wait for perfect words.

Your job is to listen with your whole self.

We must create spaces where people don’t have to be experts in their own pain to be believed.
We must teach ourselves—and others—to listen for what isn’t being said.

Because too many Survivors walk away from support, from justice, from healing…
Not because they weren’t ready.
But because someone decided that their words didn’t “sound right.”

Let this be the reminder:

• Healing is not a performance.

• Being articulate is not a requirement for being believed.

• And just because someone can’t say it yet doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Let us be the ones who hear people beyond language.
Let us be the ones who say, “You don’t have to find the right words. I’m still here. I still believe you.”

The post They Can’t Always Find the Right Words. But They Still Deserve to Be Heard. appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

I now know why my Granny, Grandma Monroe, Aunt, and Mama encouraged me to get quiet when a storm rolled in.  

When I was a girl, we had to turn off all the electricity, even if we were doing homework. We had to get still. I hated it. Until I didn’t.  

At some point, I came to be fascinated by it.  I would actually sit on the front porch. They would say, “Watch God work.” That is exactly what I did.

Watch the storm came rolling in.  Observe the behavior of the animals, the trees, and the insects. 

Usually, I respond to the storm. The social storms. That is the activist in me.  Sometimes I must force myself to sit back and observe.

Silence Has Rewards 

So, when a celebrity is accused of sexual violence, I have force myself to observe the storm. 

Okay, I wasn’t always successful. But sometimes I was.  And, because I was, I could see and hear quite a bit. 

I was able to see that there were certain phrases being repeated over and over towards victims.  

Here they are: 

24 Phrases People Use to Try to Silence  Survivors of Sexual Violence                                                            Compiled by Tonya GJ Prince

·        
“Don’t speak ill of the dead.”

 

·        
   “It was
a long time ago. Let it go.”

 

·        
   “Touch
not God’s anointed one.”

 

·        
 “He was
about to do big things. This “accusation” is just a way of creating an
obstacle.”

 

·        

 “I know
him.  He is a good father. I have even
seen him with his children.  Good fathers
don’t do this kind of thing.”

 

·        
   “He
wouldn’t do that. I know him.”

 

·        
   “Those
women just want fame, attention or money.”

 

·        
   “People
just want to take down a good man in the community.”

 

·        
 “Oh,
women don’t do these type of things. Women don’t rape.”

 

·        
“It was innocent child exploration not abuse. Get
your mind out of the gutter.”

·        
“He doesn’t have to rape anybody. Look at her.
Who would rape her?”

 

·        
“I don’t believe her. Why would anyone take so
long to come forward?”

 

·        
Why did she take the money? She was looking for
a payday.”

 

·        
“You should just forgive. Forgive and move on.”

 

·        
“Men don’t get raped.”

 

·        
“That woman has mental issues. I don’t believe
her.”

 

·        
“She knew what she was getting into when she
went to his room.”

 

·        
“Come on, having sex with a teacher is every
teenage boy’s fantasy.”

 

·        
“Why are we still talking about this?”

 

·        
“He goes to church.”

 

·        
“His legacy is far more important than these
accusations.”     

It is important to make people aware of their harmful habits.  If they aren’t aware of them, they can’t change them. It also helps Survivors to know what to expect when a discussion around sexual violence comes up.

Feel free to add your own and discuss them in the comment section.

The post 24 More Phrases People Use to Try to Silence Survivors of Sexual Violence appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.

According to the CDC:   In 2013 (the most recent year for which full data are available), 41,149 suicides were reported, making suicide the 10th leading cause of death for Americans. In that year, someone in the country died by suicide every 12.9 minutes.

I recently read an article about a young, brilliant woman who died by suicide. She was accomplished, full of potential, and beloved by many.

But when I scrolled down to the comment section—where I expected sorrow, empathy, maybe even a collective ache—what I found instead was judgment. Cold words. Cruel assumptions.

One comment in particular gutted me:

“Suicide is so selfish.”

That comment sent me hurtling back in time.

Somewhere in the 1980s, I was sitting in the living room, watching one of those old ABC Afterschool Specials. The episode followed a teenager who had died by suicide. The scene was raw—her parents were breaking down in grief.

One of my older cousins walked in right then. She was a mother of two, and when I told her what the show was about, she sighed and said:

“People who kill themselves are so selfish.”

Now, I know she didn’t mean harm. She was a mom, probably imagining the unbearable pain of losing a child. And she is, by all accounts, a caring person.

But still… I was a child sitting on that couch.
And what no one in the room knew was that I had already begun to imagine ways to die. I was a little girl trying to survive sexual abuse and other forms of soul-crushing harm.

What they saw as stomachaches were symptoms of a much deeper suffering—one I didn’t yet have words for.

So yes, I felt the teenager’s pain on that screen. I felt seen in her despair. Not because I wanted to die, but because I didn’t know how to keep living with that much hurt inside of me.

That’s why those careless judgments hurt so much.
Because when someone says suicide is “selfish,” what they’re really saying is, “I didn’t stop to consider how much pain a person must be in to take that step.”

And that’s the problem.

If more of us could stop and really think about what level of pain would make someone believe the only option left is to leave this world…
Maybe we’d get better at offering real help.
Maybe we’d stop missing the signs.
Maybe we’d stop responding with silence, shame, or spiritual bypassing.

We’re so quick to offer what we think helps:
A quote.
A scripture.
A bestselling self-help book.
A reminder that “we all go through things.”

But what about life-saving support?

What about consistent, compassionate, tangible care?

Many of us know what to do in a physical crisis:
We know CPR.
We know how to stop a wound from bleeding.
We know not to pull a knife from a wound, because it could make things worse.

But how many of us know what to do in an emotional crisis?

Or maybe the better question is: how few of us do?

This isn’t just a call to be kind.
It’s a plea to be prepared. To care enough to learn.
To stand up for those in pain—not just in death, but while they’re still here, quietly trying to survive.

Because sometimes, what saves a life isn’t just medication or therapy or time.
Sometimes it’s knowing that someone sees you, someone believes you, someone thinks your life is worth fighting for—even when you don’t.

Let’s be those someones.
Let’s be better than the comment section.

Lifesaving Questions

Do you know the risk factors of suicide?

Do you know how to effectively help friends, family, and others?

Do you know what resources are available to people at risk of suicide?

I didn’t have all of the answers either.  But I found a lot of answers here:

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention

I challenge us to start talking amongst ourselves and find even more answers.

The post Mirror Reflections: How What We Don’t Know About Suicide is Killing People appeared first on WESurviveAbuse.