The Bible Belt Is Tightening, and It’s Cutting Off the Circulation to Compassion

“If your religion needs an enemy to feel holy, it’s not faith. It’s fear dressed up in Sunday clothes.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. We’re about to grill an entire ideology that’s been marinating in fear, supremacy, and a whole lot of “Jesus said I could” seasoning. And before anybody clutches their pearls or starts rehearsing their testimony, let me say this loud enough for the back pew. I am not talking about the true Christians. You know the ones. The tiny, endangered handful who actually read the teachings of Jesus. And then miraculously follow them. The ones who don’t treat the Bible like a buffet where you skip the compassion and double‑up on the judgment. Those folks exist. But they’re more rare than a Mississippi summer without humidity.

I’m talking about the loud ones. The ones who have turned Christianity into a political brand, a power tool, a weapon, a personality type, and a personality cult. The ones who cheer when courts strip people of rights. Who clap when cruelty is legislated. Who grin when someone else’s suffering is framed as “God’s will.” The ones who make me as someone who grew up in the pews. Someone who knows the hymns by heart. Fear religion itself. Because the version they’re selling looks nothing like Jesus and everything like empire.

And down here in the South, Southern Christianity has become a full‑blown spectator sport. They’ll shout “Hallelujah!” While policies harm children, families, and communities. And they think that as long as they’re not the ones swinging the hammer, Jesus still smiles on them. They’ve invented a whole “Jesus Warranty” that supposedly covers all cruelty. As long as they’re cheering from the sidelines instead of doing the dirty work themselves. Here are some examples.

1. “God knows my heart.” Yes, Brenda, and that’s exactly what concerns me.

2. “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” Translation: “I’m about to be hateful and blame Jesus for it.”

3. “I’m just speaking the truth in love.” There is no love in that sentence. Not a drop. Not even a trace amount detectable by forensic equipment.

4. “God put this administration in power.” Until, of course, that same administration does something that affects their bank account. Then suddenly it’s “the devil testing us.”

Christian nationalism isn’t faith. It’s not devotion. It’s not spirituality. It’s power wearing a cross necklace it bought at Hobby Lobby. And southerners love them some Hobby Lobby. It’s the belief that God has chosen one group, one culture, one worldview, one interpretation, to rule over everyone else. It’s the idea that democracy is optional. But domination is holy. It’s the conviction that cruelty is righteous as long as it’s done “in Jesus’ name.”

When religion becomes power, it stops being religion. It becomes a regime. It becomes a justification for harm. It becomes a shield for hypocrisy. It becomes a megaphone for supremacy.

And the people who claim to “protect children” are often the same ones cheering on policies that harm them spiritually, emotionally, physically, and sexually. All while insisting Jesus will sign off on the paperwork. Because nothing says “family values” like ignoring suffering, as long as, it keeps your ideology comfortable.

If anyone thinks Christian nationalism is new, bless their heart. America has been dipping cruelty in holy water since before the ink dried on the Constitution. Here are the receipts. The historical kind. The kind that don’t name political figures. The kind that show the pattern loud and clear.l

1. Slavery: Scripture as Shackles

  • Enslavers cherry‑picked verses to claim bondage was “God’s order.”
  • Ministers preached obedience as holy duty.
  • Enslaved people were denied access to the full Bible. Because the truth might set them free.

2. Jim Crow: Segregation With a Side of Sunday School

  • Churches reinforced racial hierarchy.
  • Segregationists claimed integration violated “God’s design.”
  • Religious institutions blessed discriminatory laws.

3. Indigenous Boarding Schools: “Saving Souls” by Destroying Culture

  • Government and church institutions partnered to remove Indigenous children.
  • Abuse and cultural erasure were framed as “Christianizing.”
  • Religion became the mask worn by assimilation.

4. Anti‑LGBTQ+ Discrimination: Conditional Love Isn’t Love

  • Religious rhetoric justified denying housing, jobs, and marriage.
  • Conversion therapy was marketed as “healing.”
  • Policies restricting rights were framed as “protecting morality.”

5. Purity Culture & Women’s Autonomy: The Holy Handmaid’s Tale

  • Women’s bodies were treated as temples owned by someone else.
  • Religious arguments restricted autonomy.
  • Purity culture taught girls that silence was holiness.

6. Harsh Criminal Punishment: “Biblical Justice” for Everyone Except the Powerful

  • Harsh sentencing was framed as moral duty.
  • Compassion was dismissed as weakness.
  • Religion became a shield for punitive systems.

7. The Red Scare: Christianity as a Loyalty Test

  • Being a “good American” became synonymous with being a “good Christian.”
  • Dissent was framed as spiritual corruption.
  • Policies restricting speech were justified as “defending faith.”

8. The War on Drugs: Morality Plays With Real Victims

  • Addiction was framed as sin instead of a health issue.
  • Punitive policies were justified as “protecting families.”
  • Communities of color bore the brunt.

9. Institutional Abuse of Children: Discipline Disguised as Devotion

  • Religious institutions partnered with government agencies.
  • Abuse was ignored under the guise of “spiritual correction.”
  • Children suffered while adults insisted it was “for their own good.”

10. Anti‑Immigrant Policies: “Christian Nation” Gatekeeping

  • Religious identity defined who was “truly American.”
  • Immigrants were labeled threats to “Christian values.”
  • Policies restricting immigration were framed as moral protection.

The only time some conservative Christians seem to oppose the current administration is when the consequences of their own ideology finally land on their doorstep. Specifically, their bank account. Suddenly it’s not “God’s chosen leadership” anymore. Suddenly it’s “persecution.” Suddenly the Holy Spirit is suspiciously aligned with their financial discomfort. Funny how that works. The Holy Spirit always seems to agree with their wallet.

And bless the hearts of the ones who swear up and down that their Christianity isn’t Christian nationalism. While doing every single thing Christian nationalism requires. They’ll tell you they’re “just standing for biblical values.” While they cheer on policies that harm people. They’ll insist they’re “not political.” While their entire theology is shaped like a ballot box. They’ll claim they “love everyone.” While supporting systems that crush the very people Jesus spent His life defending. They’ll say, “That’s not my Christianity,” even as they weaponize scripture. Excuse cruelty. Ignore suffering. And wrap their ideology in a flag like it’s a baptismal robe. It’s the spiritual equivalent of saying, “I didn’t set the fire. I just keep handing out matches.”

Christian nationalism is the golden calf wearing a WWJD bracelet. It is the Pharisee with a flag. It is the empire Jesus warned us about. The one that crucifies truth. Crowns hypocrisy. And calls it holy. And if protecting your power requires harming others. If your faith demands someone else’s suffering. And if your Jesus looks suspiciously like your politics. Then you’re not worshiping Christ. You’re worshiping yourself. And may the real Jesus, the one who flipped tables, have a word with you about it. Thanks for reading! And what are your thoughts on this topic?

Affirmation: I honor the real teachings of love, justice, and compassion. And I refuse to bow to any ideology that uses God as a weapon.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

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The Kids Are in Cages And Some Americans Are Cheering

“A society that traumatizes its children cannot call itself free. It can only call itself unfinished.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. If we’re going to talk about what’s happening to an entire generation of kids in this country, we might as well acknowledge the smoke, the heat, and the fact that someone, some system, keeps pretending they don’t smell the fire they started.

That’s what I tell myself every time the news hits too hard. When the stories feel too big, When the grief gets stuck in my throat. Grounding myself is the only way I can face the reality that children in our country are being traumatized by the very systems that claim to protect them.

And it’s not the “kids these days have it rough” kind of trauma. Not the “life is hard, they’ll be fine” kind of trauma. No. I’m talking about the kind that leaves scars you can’t see but can feel for a lifetime. We’re watching children grow up in a society that keeps calling them “resilient,” as if resilience is a prize and not a survival mechanism. As if being traumatized is some kind of character‑building exercise.

Oh, congratulations, you’ve unlocked Level 10 Emotional Endurance. Your reward is more adversity. And sarcasm is the only seasoning that makes this palatable. Because the truth is bitter. Our government’s dysfunction, cruelty, and chaos are shaping our kids in ways we won’t fully understand for decades.

Children are absorbing fear like secondhand smoke. They’re inhaling uncertainty. They’re watching adults crumble under policies and crises that never should’ve existed in the first place. And while all this is happening, we are living in a nation where children are having their parents ripped from their arms. Families are separated like someone is sorting laundry instead of human beings. Kids, actual kids, are being put in cages. Some Americans are cheering for it, proudly declaring, “They deserve it.”

And while they cheer, children are being:

  • Physically abused
  • Sexually abused
  • Forced to work for around $1 an hour
  • Fed food with worms
  • Denied medical care

This isn’t metaphor. This isn’t exaggeration. This is happening on our soil. And we’re supposed to pretend this won’t shape an entire generation? We already have a mental health crisis bursting at the seams. It’s understaffed. Underfunded. And overwhelmed. Kids are learning anxiety before they learn multiplication. They know the word “lockdown” before they know “confidence.” They watch adults fight for basic rights and think that’s just how life works. This isn’t resilience. This is trauma dressed up as “normal.” And the worst part? We’re gaslit into believing this is just the way things are now. Like the trauma is a feature, not a bug.

But here’s the mic drop. Trauma doesn’t disappear. It compounds. It grows roots. It becomes generational. And when you plant fear, instability, and cruelty in children, you don’t get a stronger society. You get a wounded one. We are cooking a future we are not prepared to eat. Because the children who survive this. Who grow up in cages. Who grow up watching their parents taken. Whoever grow up being told by a cheering crowd that their suffering is deserved, they will carry this with them into adulthood. Into parenthood. And into society.

We are not raising resilience. We are raising trauma survivors. And the people cheering? They don’t realize they’re cheering for a future that will haunt all of us. This isn’t politics. This is humanity. Or the lack of it. A society that harms children, any children, cannot call itself moral. It can only call itself complicit. Thanks for reading! And wake up America. Our children need protecting.

Affirmation: I refuse to be numb to what hurts us. I see the truth. I speak the truth. And I protect the next generation with my voice, my heart, and my fire.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

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If My Cats Ran Conversion Therapy, It Would Just Be Forced Cuddling And Self-Acceptance

“If humans stopped trying to convert queer people and started converting their own hypocrisy, the world would finally be cat‑approved.”

 -Tinkerbell

The charcoal is lit. Sage is swirling. And the Mississippi humidity is thick enough to baptize a biscuit. My cats have decided to open a Conversion Therapy Center. And it is the exact opposite of the real, harmful mess humans invented.

In the human world, “conversion therapy” has meant decades of trying to bully, shame, terrify, or spiritually blackmail queer folks into pretending to be straight. It’s been condemned by medical associations, mental‑health professionals, and anyone with a functioning moral compass. It’s caused trauma, depression, and a whole lot of people sprinting out of closets like they were on fire.

But in my house? If my cats ran conversion therapy, the only thing they’d be converting your would be anxiety into a nap. Your shame into a purr. Your internalized homophobia into a snack break. And your fear into “come lay down, you’re safe here.” Cats don’t believe in changing who you are. They believe in changing where you sit. How often you pet them. And whether you understand that your lap is community property. 

Me: “Why is there a sign on the door that says, “CONVERSION THERAPY: NOW ACCEPTING WALK‑INS AND RUN‑AWAYS?”

Tinkerbell: “Because humans clearly don’t know how to run one ethically, so we’re taking over.”

Coco: “Our methods are evidence‑based. The evidence is that you look stressed and we want snacks.”

Piper: (already dialing the therapist) “I’m calling her. We need professional input. Also, I may have scheduled you for a double session.”

Me: “Piper, you cannot call our therapist every time you have a thought.”

Piper: “I can and I will. I am a mental‑health advocate.”

Tinkerbell: “Now sit. We’re going to treat the trauma caused by those humans who thought they could ‘pray the gay away.’”

Coco: “Ridiculous. You can’t pray away something that fabulous.”

Me: “So what exactly is your treatment plan?”

Tinkerbell: “Step one: unconditional acceptance.”

Coco: “Step two: snacks.”

Piper: “Step three: we convert your self‑doubt into a nap. A long one. With me on your chest.”

Me: “That’s it?”

Tinkerbell: “That’s all anyone ever needed. Shame is a human invention. We don’t participate. We support traditional values like naps, boundaries, and minding your own business.”

Coco: “We oppose hypocrisy. If you say you love people, then love them. Don’t weaponize it.”

Piper: “We believe in small government. Specifically, a government small enough to fit on the couch and not tell anyone who they’re allowed to love.”

Tinkerbell: “We also believe in freedom. Freedom to be queer. Freedom to be soft. Freedom to not be spiritually assaulted by people who can’t even season their chicken.”

Coco: “Amen.”

Me: “Why is the living room rearranged like a counseling center from a 1970s pamphlet?”

Tinkerbell: “Because we’re reclaiming the term ‘conversion therapy’ and converting it back to something humane.”

Coco: “Also because you needed an intervention. And because we wanted to sit in the spinny chair.”

Piper (already holding my phone like she pays the bill): “I’m calling our therapist. She needs to supervise this. You’re spiraling again.”

Me: “Piper, you cannot call our therapist every time I sigh.”

Piper: “You sighed in lowercase. That’s a cry for help.”

Tinkerbell: “Now sit down. We’re beginning the intake process.”

I sit. The couch groans like it knows what’s coming.

Coco: “State your name and the last time you felt fully accepted.”

Me: … 

Coco: “Exactly. That’s why you’re here.”

Tinkerbell: “We’re going to address the trauma caused by those humans who thought they could ‘fix’ queer people with fear, shame, and pamphlets printed on cheap paper.”

Piper: “We don’t do shame here. We do snacks.”

Me: “So what’s the treatment plan?”

Tinkerbell: “Step one: We convert your internalized nonsense into purring.”

Coco: “Step two: We convert your anxiety into a nap. A long one. With weighted‑blanket cat.”

Piper: “Step three: We convert your belief that you must earn love into the understanding that you are loved because you exist. Also, because you feed us.”

Me: “That’s actually beautiful.”

Piper: “Don’t get mushy. I’m still calling the therapist.”

She presses the same button 14 times. The phone opens the calculator.

Tinkerbell: “Now, let’s talk about the real conversion therapy. The harmful kind. The one humans invented.”

Coco: “The one that tried to turn queer people straight by scaring them, shaming them, or telling them God was disappointed.”

Piper: “God made rainbows. Y’all need to calm down.”

Tinkerbell: “Our clinic does the opposite. We convert you back to yourself.”

Coco: “We convert you back to softness.”

Piper: “We convert you back to joy. And also, to the correct position for cuddling.”

Me: “So your therapy is basically love?”

Tinkerbell: “Love, naps, snacks, and accountability.”

Coco: “And calling out hypocrisy when we see it.”

Piper: “Especially the kind where people preach ‘love’ but practice ‘control.’”

Tinkerbell: “We don’t do that here. We do liberation.”

Coco: “And treats.”

Piper: “And calling the therapist.”

So, if my cats ran conversion therapy, it wouldn’t be about forcing queer people into boxes they were never meant to fit in. It wouldn’t be about shame disguised as holiness. It wouldn’t be about fear dressed up as “family values.” It would be about unlearning the lies you were told about yourself. It would be about reclaiming the softness you buried to survive. It would be about healing the parts of you that were taught to hide. It would be about converting the world’s cruelty into your own comfort.

My cats who are judgmental, biscuit‑making therapists know something the humans who invented harmful conversion therapy never understood. You don’t fix people by breaking them. You fix people by loving them so loudly that the shame can’t hear itself anymore. And if that means forced cuddling? If that means naps you didn’t schedule? If that means Piper calling our therapist every time I breathe wrong? Then so be it.

Charcoal is still burning. Sage still swirling. Cats still running the clinic. And the world still not ready for this level of queer‑affirming Southern‑gothic healing. Thanks for reading! And denounce conversion therapy. What are your thoughts?

Affirmation: “I am not here to be changed. I am here to be cherished without apology.”

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

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A Letter to Parents Who Forgot What Love Means

“Love is not holy if it requires your child to shrink.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Invoke the ancestors. Because Lord, they’ve been watching this mess unfold for generations and they are tired. I can practically hear Big Mama in the spirit realm, fanning herself with a church program and whispering, “Baby, go on and say it. They need to hear it.” So, I’m writing this letter. This holy‑ghost‑powered, Southern‑fried, and emotionally charged letter to the parents of LGBTQIA+ kids everywhere. And I’m writing it in the voice of every queer ancestor who had to survive Sunday School shame, back‑pew gossip, and family reunions where the potato salad had more acceptance than they did.

This is a letter from me, a queer adult who lived through the fire. Walked through the brimstone. And still came out smelling like sandalwood and resilience. And I’m not holding back. Sit back while I speak some truth.

Dear Parents, before you bring a child into this world biologically, adoption, or through the “God told me to foster” pipeline, you need to sit with yourself and ask one question, “Am I going to love this child more than my beliefs?” If the answer is anything other than a full‑bodied, chest‑thumping, hallelujah‑shouting yes, then you don’t need children. You need a devotional, a therapist, and maybe a long walk through the woods to talk to Jesus directly.

Let me be clear. Jesus, the actual Jesus, not the one y’all weaponize,  never bullied a child. He never told a kid they were going to hell. He never said, “Love thy neighbor unless they’re gay.” He never threw stones at queer folks. He only threw shade at hypocrites. So, if you’re out here being your child’s first bully, oppressor, heartbreak, first source of shame, you are not parenting. You are spiritually vandalizing a soul God trusted you with. And I’m here to tell you with all the ancestors nodding behind me, that is not holy. That is not righteous. That is not love.

10 Beliefs That Mean You Should Not Have Children

  1. If your religion means more to you than your child’s humanity, you should not have children. Jesus didn’t die on the cross so you could weaponize Leviticus like a spiritual flyswatter.
  2. If you plan to be your child’s first bully, you should not have children. Kids deserve parents. Not mean girls with mortgages.
  3. If you believe your grandchildren are “tainted” because their parents are gay, you should’ve never had children yourself. The family tree didn’t rot. Your mindset did.
  4. If you teach your child to hate LGBTQIA+ family members, you should not have children. Hell is not the destination here. But your behavior is the road map.
  5. If you think “unconditional love” comes with fine print, you should not have children. God doesn’t do contracts. He does covenants.
  6. If you believe queer kids are a punishment instead of a blessing, you should not have children. That’s not theology. That’s ignorance with a Bible cover.
  7. If you think “pray the gay away” is a parenting strategy, you should not have children. Prayer is for healing. Not conversion therapy cosplay.
  8. If you’d rather lose your child than lose your church friends, you should not have children.Jesus ate with outcasts. You’re worried about potluck politics.
  9. If you think shame is a teaching tool, you should not have children. Shame doesn’t save souls. It breaks them.
  10. If you believe love must be earned, you should not have children. Children are not employees. You are not their boss. Love is not a performance review.

Let me take a deep breath. Pull up a rocking chair on the porch of truth. And say this slow enough for even the folks in the back pew. This is for the ones who pretend they’re reading scripture. But are really scrolling Facebook to understand. If your love cannot stretch wide enough to hold a queer child, then your love is not love. It is fear dressed up in Sunday clothes.

And I’m going to tell you something the ancestors have been whispering for decades. Children come through you. Not for you. They are not born to validate your beliefs, your image, your reputation, or your standing in the church bulletin. Children are not your emotional support trophies. They are not your redemption arc. They are not your second chance at being the person you wish you were. They are not your spiritual PR campaign. 

They are souls that are whole, holy, and handcrafted by the same God you claim to worship. And if you cannot love them without conditions, ultimatums, threats of hellfire, “pray it away” nonsense, and shame disguised as righteousness, then you are not parenting. You are performing. You are auditioning for approval from people who wouldn’t show up for you if your house caught fire. You are sacrificing your child’s mental health on the altar of “What  will the church ladies think?” You are choosing doctrine over devotion. Fear over family. And ego over empathy.

Let me say this louder with the ancestors stomping their feet like a praise break behind me. Jesus never asked a child to shrink so a parent could feel tall. Jesus never told a child to hide so a parent could feel holy. Jesus never demanded silence from the oppressed to comfort the oppressor.

If your child comes out to you in fear, trembling, hope, desperation, and your first instinct is to shame them. Correct them. Punish them. Or “fix” them. Then you have misunderstood the entire point of parenthood.

And if your response is, “Well, I love them. But I don’t support their lifestyle,” let me lovingly, sarcastically, and spiritually inform you. Your child does not have a lifestyle. They have a life. And you are either in it, or you are not.

If you think rejecting your child is righteous. I promise you that Jesus is looking down at you like, “That’s not what I said.” If you think your child’s identity is a sin. But your cruelty isn’t. You might want to reread the red‑letter parts of the Bible. The ones where Jesus actually speaks. Because he spent his entire ministry calling out people who acted exactly like that.

If you think your child’s queerness is a burden. But your judgment isn’t. You need to sit with that. If you think your child’s truth is dangerous. But your silence isn’t. You need to sit with that. If you think your child’s love is wrong. But your rejection is holy. You need to sit with that.

And while you’re sitting, let me offer you the kind of truth that makes the ancestors nod and Jesus raise an eyebrow. Queer kids do not break families. Parents who choose fear over love do. Queer kids do not destroy homes. Parents who weaponize scripture do. Queer kids do not cause generational trauma. Parents who refuse to evolve do. And heterosexual parents create gay children. They don’t create themselves.

Queer kids do not walk away from families lightly. Parents who make home unsafe push them out. And if you lose your child because you could not love them fully, freely, and fiercely. That is not their sin. That is your consequence. If you cannot love a queer child. You are not ready to love any child. If your heart cannot expand. Your family cannot grow. If your faith cannot bend. Your relationships will break. If your compassion cannot stretch. Your legacy will shrink.

And one day you will look back and realize that the child you rejected was the one who could’ve taught you the most about love. But by then, they’ll be gone. And they’ll be loved somewhere else. Fully. Joyfully. Safely. And without conditions. Ancestors humming. Jesus nodding. And the truth standing tall. Thanks for reading! What are your thoughts?

Affirmation: I honor my truth, identity, and my worth. And I refuse to let anyone’s fear masquerading as faith define me.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

Domestic Violence Awareness Month: More Than Bruises, More Than One Story

“Leaving isn’t weakness. Staying alive long enough to escape is strength.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Call the ancestors the loud ones, the protective ones, in close. The ones who don’t mind flipping a table when truth needs to be told. Let the ancestors pull up their rocking chairs and lean in like, “Alright baby, tell it exactly how it happened.“ Because today, we’re walking straight into a fire that too many people pretend isn’t burning. And the topic is Domestic Violence Awareness Month.

This month isn’t just a purple ribbon or a hashtag. It’s a national reckoning. A month carved out because silence has killed too many. Shame has trapped too many. And judgment has wounded too many who were already bleeding. It exists because domestic violence is not one thing. Not one story. Not one bruise. It’s a whole constellation of harm that is emotional abuse, financial control, spiritual manipulation, psychological warfare, sexual coercion, digital stalking, physical stalking, rape, threats, intimidation, and isolation. All of it real. All of it dangerous.

And Lord knows, the Deep South has a long tradition of saying, “Well, why didn’t she just leave?” With the same tone they use when asking why you didn’t bring potato salad to the church potluck. But today we’re not whispering. We’re not sugarcoating. We’re not letting judgment drown out truth.

Domestic violence is more than bruises. More than shouting. More than slammed doors. It’s the slow erosion of your identity. It’s the constant fear humming under your skin. It’s the way you learn to read someone’s footsteps like weather patterns. It’s the way you shrink. Fold. And contort yourself trying to keep the peace that never stays peaceful.

And let me say this with all the Southern sass I can muster. If you’ve never lived it, you don’t get to judge it. Because “just leaving” is a fantasy sold by people who have never had their life threatened. Their finances controlled. Their spirit manipulated. Or their faith weaponized against them. I know this because I lived it. Fourteen years in a domestic abuse situation that nearly swallowed me whole. The cycle wasn’t simple. It was a trap crafted with precision love bombing, threats, and intimidation. That is continuously repeated until you forget what freedom feels like.

I didn’t stay because I was weak. I stayed because I was scared. I stayed because I was conditioned. I stayed because every exit felt like a death sentence. And let me make something crystal clear. It wasn’t a billionaire. It wasn’t a senator. It wasn’t a monster hiding in the shadows. It wasn’t an immigrant. It wasn’t a drag queen with a story book. It wasn’t a trans person. It wasn’t a black person. It was a white, “Christian” man in the Deep South. One who used the Bible like a weapon. While twisting scripture into shackles. Preaching submission while practicing cruelty. A man who believed control was his God-given right. And fear was his favorite language.

That’s why Domestic Violence Awareness Month matters. Because abuse doesn’t look like one stereotype. Survivors don’t fit one mold. Judgment is easy. But understanding saves lives. It is a promise. A collective vow that we will speak loudly. Love fiercely. And refuse to let anyone’s suffering stay hidden behind closed doors.

And now, let me drop this mic so hard the ancestors stand up and clap. I survived what was meant to break me. I reclaimed what was stolen from me. And I will never apologize again for the fire in my voice. Thanks for reading! What have been your experiences?

Affirmation: I honor my survival, my truth, and my healing. I am worthy of safety, love, and a life without fear.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

Mike Johnson: The Speaker Who Tried to Out‑Pray Reality

“Hypocrisy is loud. But truth has a way of hollering back.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle “Oh my GOD this is terrible.” And call upon the ancestors. We’re about to talk about Speaker of the House “Moses” Mike “Grindr” Johnson. Also known as the leader of the Closetocracy. The man who somehow manages to be both the nation’s top lawmaker. And the world’s most chaotic religious plot twist. Ancestors, gather ‘round. Bring sweet tea. Bring smelling salts. Bring a fan. Because this level of hypocrisy has me sweating like a Pentecostal preacher caught in a drag brunch.

The political and religious hypocrisy in this country has gotten so loud it’s rattling the picture frames in my hallway. Somebody grab the emergency sweet tea. We’re going to talk about the kind of political behavior that makes the ancestors collectively sigh.

This is about The Speaker of the House and the Biblical‑themed, reality‑TV‑level chaos that has unfolded since he picked up that gavel. And yes, we’re using real facts. And yes we’re adding Southern sarcasm so thick you could spread it on a biscuit.

10 FACTUAL THINGS MIKE JOHNSON HAS DONE, WITH SOURCES, AND A WHOLE LOT OF SOUTHERN SARCASM

1. Said God put him in the Speaker’s chair.

He told reporters his rise to power was part of “God’s plan.” Source: NBC News https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/congress/mike-johnson-says-god-put-speaker-s-chair-rcna122001 (nbcnews.com in Bing)

Southern translation: The man said God promoted him like it was a divine LinkedIn notification.

2. Compared his leadership role to Moses.

He invoked biblical figures to explain his political mission. Source: Washington Post https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2023/11/01/mike-johnson-religion/ (washingtonpost.com in Bing)

Southern translation: Sir, Moses parted the Red Sea. You can’t even part your caucus.

3. Co‑authored a legal brief defending Louisiana’s same‑sex marriage ban.

He argued same‑sex marriage would harm society. Source: AP News https://apnews.com/article/mike-johnson-louisiana-same-sex-marriage-brief-8e3f6a6e7c7f4c0b9a8f2e8e3e4a2b6b(apnews.com in Bing)

Southern translation: He said marriage equality was dangerous. While ignoring the actual dangers like Congress itself.

4. Supported criminalizing same‑sex relationships earlier in his career.

He wrote op‑eds defending laws against “homosexual conduct.” Source: CNN https://www.cnn.com/2023/10/26/politics/mike-johnson-anti-lgbtq-writings/index.html (cnn.com in Bing)

Southern translation: He tried to legislate love like it was a zoning violation.

5. Promoted “covenant marriage” to make divorce harder.

He pushed stricter marriage laws requiring counseling. Source: Politico https://www.politico.com/news/2023/10/27/mike-johnson-covenant-marriage-00124239(politico.com in Bing)

Southern translation: He said marriage should be harder to leave. Meanwhile half the country is trying to leave the group chat.

6. Opposes abortion in all cases, including rape and incest.

His stance is among the most restrictive in Congress. Source: NPR https://www.npr.org/2023/10/26/1210099674/mike-johnson-abortion-views(npr.org in Bing)

Southern translation: He wants fewer choices than a Waffle House menu at 3 a.m.

7. Played a key role in efforts to overturn the 2020 election.

He led House Republicans in supporting a lawsuit to invalidate votes. Source: New York Times https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/25/us/politics/mike-johnson-election.html (nytimes.com in Bing)

Southern translation: He tried to return democracy like it was an Amazon package.

8. Voted against disaster relief funding for his own state.

He opposed bipartisan hurricane aid. Source: The Advocate https://www.theadvocate.com/baton_rouge/news/politics/mike-johnson-hurricane-relief-vote/article_3b6f8a7e-5c9a-11ee-8a7a-6f2e0f4c2a0b.html(theadvocate.com in Bing)

Southern translation: Louisiana said “help,” and he said “thoughts and prayers only.”

9. Advocated for monitoring pornography as a “moral threat.”

He pushed anti‑porn activism and surveillance. Source: Rolling Stone https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-news/mike-johnson-anti-porn-activism-1234854567/ (rollingstone.com in Bing)

Southern translation: He wants to track your browser history like it’s a Fitbit.

10. Called climate change a hoax.

He dismissed climate science and opposed environmental regulations. Source: The Guardianhttps://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/oct/26/mike-johnson-climate-change-hoax (theguardian.com in Bing)

Southern translation: Sir, the Gulf of Mexico is boiling like crawfish water. This is not the time.

Light the charcoal again. Because this whole situation needs a spiritual cleansing, a sage bundle, and maybe a priest. The Speaker’s record is a masterclass in political contradiction:

  • Biblical metaphors for leadership.
  • Restrictive policies for families.
  • Attempts to overturn elections.
  • Climate denial while the South melts like a candle.
  • LGBTQIA+ scapegoating while preaching “love thy neighbor.”

It’s the kind of hypocrisy that makes Southern liberals clutch their pearls and say, “Lord, take the wheel, the whole car, and the insurance policy.” The ancestors are tired. The sweet tea is gone. And I’m officially closed for renovations due to excessive foolishness. Thanks for reading! And get out and vote.“So what do you think? Is reality being dramatic? Or is Mike “Grindr” Johnson just trying to pray the plot twist away?”

Affirmation: I stand firm in my truth, my identity, and my joy. No matter who tries to rewrite the narrative.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

Trauma Awareness Month: The Stories We Carry, The Healing We Claim

“Trauma doesn’t make you weak. It makes you a witness to your own survival.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Let the smoke rise like it’s clocking in for a shift. And let the air shift like it’s bracing itself for whatever truth you’re about to drag into the daylight. Today isn’t about pretending everything’s fine or slapping a smile on top of a wound. It’s not about the vibes, snacks, or cats doing interpretive dance in the sunbeam. It’s about trauma awareness. It is about naming the things we survived. The things we carried alone. The things we laughed through so we wouldn’t crumble. It’s a Southern‑fried, emotionally honest, and funny enough to keep you from dissolving into a puddle on the kitchen floor. 

Trauma Awareness is the kind that hides in your shoulders, jaw, breath, memories, and your jokes. And if we’re going to talk about it, we’re going to do it the only way I know how. Complete with honesty, humor, and the kind of emotional courage that feels like taking your bra off after a long day. It’s painful, relieving, and absolutely necessary.

There’s a moment right before you talk about trauma where your whole spirit goes, “Are we sure we want to do this?” It’s the same tone you use when someone says, “Let’s just run into Walmart real quick.” You know it’s not going to be quick. You know you’re going to see something you can’t unsee. You know you’re going to come out changed. Talking about trauma is like that. Except instead of a man in pajama pants buying raw chicken and fireworks, it’s your nervous system holding up a sign that says, “We’ve been through some things, ma’am.”

Trauma doesn’t just show up when you’re ready. Trauma is that one cousin who arrives early. Eats all the good snacks. And then says, “Why you look stressed?” It pops up at the worst times especially when you’re trying to relax. When you’re trying to sleep. When you’re trying to enjoy a sandwich. When you’re trying to mind your business. And when you’re trying to be a functioning adult for five minutes. Trauma will tap you on the shoulder like, “Hey bestie, remember that thing from 1998? No? Well, I do.” And suddenly you’re staring at the wall like it owes you money.

Your body remembers everything. Even the stuff you tried to bury under humor, iced coffee, and pretending you’re fine. You’ll be walking through Wal-Mart. Touching a throw pillow. And your body will whisper, “Hey, remember that time?” And you’re like, “No I do not. I am touching a pillow. Let me live.” But trauma doesn’t care. Trauma is like a Southern grandmother with a memory like a steel trap. And no sense of timing.

People talk about healing like it’s a spa day. Let me tell you something. Healing is not cucumber water and a robe. Healing is crying in the shower because your shampoo smells like 2007. Healing is realizing you’ve been clenching your jaw since the Bush administration. Healing is sitting in your car after therapy like you just got hit by an emotional freight train. Healing is messy. Healing is loud. Healing is quiet. Healing is confusing. Healing is holy. Healing is exhausting. Healing is worth it. But cute? Absolutely not.

So, buckle up. Because the cats have decided it’s Trauma Awareness Hour. And apparently they’ve all been waiting their whole lives to trauma dump with the enthusiasm of a group therapy circle run by toddlers. And today is the day they ask deeply personal questions with the emotional sensitivity of a toddler holding a chainsaw. They have formed a circle. They have snacks. They have opinions. And apparently, they have questions about my trauma.

Me: “Okay, girls. Today we’re talking about trauma. Share whatever you feel comfortable with.”

She raises paw like she’s in kindergarten

Piper: “I’ll go first because my story is the most dramatic. Obviously.”

Coco: “Oh lord.”

Tinkerbell: “Let the child speak. She needs this.”

Piper: “So picture this. Me and my siblings. In a metal box. In the Mississippi heat, basically sautéing like tiny furry cornbread muffins.”

Me: “Baby, that’s awful.”

Piper: “I know. I was basically a rotisserie chicken with trauma.”

Coco: “You were a sweaty raisin with opinions.”

Piper: “Anyway, I survived because I’m dramatic and stubborn. And now every time the sunbeam hits me wrong, I flop over like a Victorian woman fainting at a garden party.”

Tinkerbell: “You faint because you forget to breathe when you get excited.”

Piper: “Trauma. Tinkerbell. Let me have this.”

Coco clears throat like she’s about to deliver a TED Talk

Coco: “My siblings and I were found under a house. A house. Do you know what lives under houses? Darkness. Ghosts. Tax evasion. I was basically a feral raccoon with trust issues.”

Me: “You’ve come so far.”

Coco: “Yes. And now I cope by judging everyone. It’s called growth.”

Piper: “You judge me the most.”

Coco: “You give me the most material.”

Tinkerbell: “I don’t remember my trauma.”

Me: “At all?”

Tinkerbell: “No. I simply chose not to be present. I was spiritually unavailable.”

Coco: “You had worms.”

Tinkerbell: “Yes, apparently my intestines were hosting a music festival.”

Piper: “You pooped like you were trying to summon something.”

Tinkerbell: “I was summoning peace. And a vet. Preferably both.”

Me: “You really don’t remember anything?”

Tinkerbell: “I remember diarrhea. And then I remember you. Everything else is optional.”

Me: “Well, we’ve all been through some things.”

Piper: “Yeah, but now we’re together! A family! With two crazy brothers who scream at dust!”

Coco: “We are a support group. A dysfunctional one, but still.”

Tinkerbell: “We heal one memory at a time. Preferably with snacks.”

Piper: “And naps!”

Coco: “And boundaries. Mostly for Piper.”

Piper: “I don’t believe in boundaries.”

Tinkerbell: “We know.”

Piper: “Sometimes I get scared when it’s hot outside. So, I cope by yelling at the sun.”

Coco: “I cope by staring at people until they feel bad.”

Tinkerbell: “I cope by leaving my body spiritually whenever something stressful happens. Like when the vacuum turns on. Or when Piper breathes too loud.”

Piper: “I have big emotions.”

Coco: “You have no volume control.”

Tinkerbell: “You have the energy of a toddler who drank a Red Bull.”

Piper: “Momma, what is your trauma about?”

Me: “Oh absolutely not. We are not opening that can of worms. We’ll be here until this time next year. And I don’t have enough snacks or emotional stamina.”

Coco: “Is that why you have panic attacks in Walmart?”

Me: “Yes.”

Tinkerbell: “But what’s scary about going to the pharmacy?”

Me: “Everything.”

Piper: “Everything?? Like the shelves? The people? The lighting?”

Me: “Yes.”

Coco: “The lighting is aggressive.”

Tinkerbell: “The vibes are hostile.”

Piper: “The blood pressure machine is a demon.”

Me: “Exactly.”

Coco: “So what did our therapist tell you?”

Me: “She said, ‘I’ll see you in another couple of days.’”

Tinkerbell: “Translation: ‘You’re a lot. But I believe in you.’”

Piper: “Translation: ‘You have so many issues we need a punch card.’”

Coco: “Translation: ‘You’re keeping the lights on in that office.’”

Me: “But look at us now. We’re safe. We’re loved. We’re healing together.”

Piper: “And we have snacks!”

Coco: “And stability.”

Tinkerbell: “And indoor plumbing.”

Me: “We survived things we never should’ve had to survive. And now we get to build something soft and silly and sacred together.”

All Three Cats: “Group hug!”

Coco: “But don’t touch me too long.”

Piper: “I’m crying!”

Tinkerbell: “I’m dissociating!”

Me: “Perfect. Exactly the emotional range I expected.”

In small Southern towns, admitting trauma is treated like a social crime. The moment you name what happened, you’re not just telling your story. You’re “disgracing the family,” “embarrassing the community,” and threatening the carefully polished illusion of stability that everyone works so hard to maintain. The culture teaches people to swallow their pain. Protect the reputation of the town at all costs. And never, under any circumstances, call out the people who caused the harm. And because the “good ole boy” network is alive and well. And sitting in every position of authority from the courthouse to the church pews, the truth gets buried right alongside the accountability. Even when the perpetrators are known. Especially when they’re known. Nothing is done. The silence is enforced. The victims are shamed. And the town keeps smiling for the church directory photo like nothing ever happened. But the truth doesn’t disappear just because the town refuses to look at it. It lingers in the air, the families, the generations, waiting for someone brave enough to break the cycle and say, “This happened. And it mattered.” And I am that one in my family who refuses to stay quiet about the trauma that happened in the small city of Petal, MS.

Trauma will have you doing things that make absolutely no sense. Things like apologizing to furniture when you bump into it. Jumping at sounds that aren’t even loud. Overthinking texts like you’re decoding ancient scripture. Saying “I’m fine” in a tone that suggests you are, in fact, not fine. And crying because someone said, “I’m proud of you.” And your body wasn’t prepared for that level of kindness. Trauma will also make you emotionally attached to random objects. A mug. A blanket. A rock you found on a walk. A pen that writes really smooth. Your brain will be like, “This is my emotional support spoon. Touch it and perish.”

Trauma awareness isn’t about reliving the pain. It’s about naming it, so it stops owning you. It’s about understanding why you react the way you do. It’s about giving yourself grace for surviving things you never should’ve had to survive. It’s about learning that your triggers aren’t flaws. They’re evidence that you lived through something real. And it’s about knowing you’re not broken.

You’re healing. You’re growing. You’re learning how to breathe again. You’re learning how to trust softness again. You’re learning how to exist without bracing for impact. That’s not weakness. That’s strength with stretch marks.

May your healing be gentle. May your memories lose their sharp edges. May your nervous system unclench one muscle at a time. May your heart learn safety. May your voice return to you. May your laughter come back louder. May your story be yours again. And not something that happened to you. But something you rose from.

So, if no one told you today. You’re not dramatic. You’re not broken. And you’re not “too much.” You’re a whole human who lived through storms that would’ve snapped lesser souls in half. And you’re still here healing. Laughing. Unlearning, Softening. Reclaiming. That’s not survival. That’s resurrection. And baby, if that isn’t holy, I don’t know what is. Drop the sage. Keep the truth. And walk away knowing this. Your story didn’t end in the dark. You did.

Affirmation:  I honor the parts of me that survived. I honor the parts of me that are still healing. I am allowed to grow, to rest, to feel, and to reclaim my peace. And I can do it one breath at a time.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

Dear Abuser: 

I am the revolution you never expected.

Who am I?

I’ll tell you who I am.

I am the light you tried to strangle, the light you tried to stifle in your chokehold.

But my light bled all over the pages of your book, your preconceived narratives, your filthy words and your attempts to bring terror back into the blank space of my eyes.

Who am I?

I’ll tell you who I am.

I birthed revolution in my bones like the many women that came before me.

I ignited flames beneath my skin, using the fiery spirits of women who walked beside me

as matches; we breathed fire into each other’s hearts until the world could see us and from the ashes we were reborn.

Who am I?

I’ll tell you who I am.

I am the fear in your hatred, the pain that you tried to use to violate my sacred spaces, rip me apart until I was nothing,

but I knew I would always be something, somebody, and now I am.

I am layers and layers of the love and power that act as your kryptonite,

and with the words and actions of all those who rose with me, I’ll build an impenetrable wall.

Who am I?

I am the thing that nightmarish people have nightmares about,

wake up sweating about, thinking about —

their furrowed brows tense with self-doubt —

wondering if I and the other warriors I march with could ever come back to life.

Who am I?

I am the restless rebel you tried to bury,

the one you tried to pull out by the root and eradicate when she began to grow from the seed.

Who am I?

I’ll tell you who I am.

I am the girl you left for dead thinking she’d always fall and never rise again.

I am the girl you cut with your razor blade wrath, the girl you thought would never fight back.

I am the girl you underestimated, the woman you tormented, the child whose shackles you tightened.

Who am I?

I think you already know –

I think you understand.

I am the prisoner you tried to cage, the little girl you made afraid –

I am the woman who never gave up, the one who exposed your charade —

Who am I?

I am everything and anything that you will stand againstto try to regain control.

For every source of darkness, there is a bleeding soul,

one that shines so brightly that the entire war zone becomes illuminated.

I am the truth, your karma, the revolt —

I am the resistance, the pieces you tried to keep shattered, coming back together again.

I emerge quietly, but I resound loudly —reverberate through your skin.

My power was never yours, and it was never yours to take.

Who am I?

I am the second coming,

of everything and everyone 

you tried to break.

–Shahida Arabi

#Thispuzzledlife

Domestic Violence: Why Didn’t They Just Leave?

“Trauma Bonding is like being a hostage who has developed an irrational affection for your captor. They can abuse you, torture you, even threaten to kill you, and you’ll remain inexplicably and disturbingly loyal.”

– Ann Clendening.

I posted this today to help give you a voice to your own abuser/abusers. I have been in therapy for many years, and sometimes, I even doubt these words. The problem is that we were so indoctrinated with their beliefs, comments, gas lighting, manipulation, and co-dependency that we formed a something called “trauma bonding.”

Trauma Bonding is an unhealthy emotional attachment that develops between a victim and their abuser. It is a complex issue that occurs in different abusive situations that include physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. But it’s also important to note that not everyone who goes through abuse forms a trauma bond. However, some people may be more prone to forming a trauma bond due to the early experiences as a form of repetition compulsion https://www.attachement project.com, 2025). This can happen in domestic abuse, child abuse, elder abuse, exploitative employment, kidnapping or hostage-taking, human trafficking, and religious extremism or cults (https://medical newstoday.com, 2023).

Characteristics of Trauma Bonding:

·        Intermittent Reinforcement: The abuser cycles between periods of abuse and kindness creating a sense of hope and dependence in the victim. Victims of abuse may be waiting for that next “feel-good moment” in the relationship that also keeps them trapped in a cycle of abuse and relief (https://www.domesticshelters.org, 2021).

v  This is also how many addictions keep you stuck. If everything were bad all of the time, you would grow tired and leave. But the intermittent reinforcement is how they maintain control.

·        Isolation: The abuser often isolates the victim from their support system, making them more vulnerable and reliant on the abuser ((https://medical newstoday.com, 2023).

v  I was not completely isolated physically from my support systems. But emotionally I was very isolated. He constantly told me that my friends and family didn’t have my best interest at hand. He would make up lies about things they said and assassinate their character behind their backs.

·        Fear and Insecurity: The victim experiences constant fear and insecurity, leading them to believe that they cannot escape the abusive situation (https://www.savantcare.com,2023).

v  The constant fear and insecurity that I experienced was, in fact, my prison cell. And I was afraid to leave even when the door was wide open.

·        Justification: The victim may rationalize the abuser’s actions or blame themselves for the abuse (https://thriveworks.com, 2024).

v  I was conditioned to believe that everything I did that made him angry was my fault. And it wasn’t. Now, I can see that his actions were because of his behavior, not mine.

·        Emotional Manipulation: The abuser uses emotional manipulation to control the victim’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors (https://wondermind.com, 2023).

v  This right here was the #1 key factor for why I wouldn’t leave. He even told me, “No other man would ever put up with the things that I have to deal with in you. All of the good things about you, which aren’t many, are because of me. You are useless without me. I have given you everything you wanted. And disobeying me is the thanks that I get? Why do you need anti-depressants when there is no reason that you should be depressed.

Consequences of Trauma Bonding:

·        Difficulty leaving the abusive relationship.

·        Feelings of guilt, shame, and self-blame.

·        Low self-esteem and trust issues.

·        Mental health problems, such as depression, anxiety, and PTSD (https://www.savantcare.com,2023).

Trauma bonding kept me trapped in an abusive situation. People have said, “Why didn’t you just leave?” The problem lies in the way they you manipulate you into believing that everything bad that happens, no matter how minor, is the victim’s fault. And day after day, their hold strengths without you even realizing it. And in my case, I felt as though I was responsible for their thoughts and feelings. I constantly strived to be “good enough” or “well deserving enough” to see the person that he told and showed me he could be when we met. And quite frankly, it was always just a game. Their abusive self is “the real them.” Believe your instincts and the colors in which they present themselves. For that is who they truly are.

If you have read through this and have never been in a situation where everything you do is being controlled, consider yourself lucky. But don’t you dare sit there and say, “It was their own fault that they didn’t leave.” That is one of the most callous things that you can say to someone who is currently trying to survive and those that have survived finally leaving that situation no matter how long it took.

You have absolutely no right to tell me or anyone else how we should feel simply because you have not experienced it. I stayed much longer than I should’ve. And there are times when I still beat myself up for it. Now though, I give myself some grace for not knowing how to leave or recognizing what was going on in plain sight. It’s not just one event that causes this. It’s something that happens every single day methodically planned and executed by the warden in the relationship.

Once you leave, I highly recommend getting into therapy. Just because you think that no damage has occurred, doesn’t mean that it hasn’t happened. Even now, 19 years later since I left him, I have phobias, anxiety, depression, difficulty concentrating, and difficulty making decisions. He has left a mark that will last a lifetime. And some of the things that he did I’ll never recover from. He once told me, “You’ll never be without me no matter what you do!” And the truth is that, while he still doesn’t have total control over me, I still allow parts of him to live rent free in my head.

The next post will be something that represents those of us who have managed to leave and have an understanding through therapy how and where to put the responsibility where it truly belongs, on them.

To those who are still in these types of relationships, I see you even when you don’t openly identify yourself. To those who have left and still live in fear, I see you and you’re not alone. To those of us who continue to strive to change those hard-core beliefs that were instilled by way of threats, intimidation, and violence, I see you as well. None of you are alone. And not all relationships are like this. 

Find a therapist that you trust and open your soul to them. Coach has been a lifeline of compassion and understanding for me that I’ve rarely experienced. And she has never made fun of or questioned why I didn’t leave. Unconditional support and her teachings have made life possible for me many lonely nights. I will probably always struggle with some things and that’s ok. This process is certainly a marathon instead of a sprint. And there is no time limit for healing. The whole point is to continue showing up and moving forward in whatever way that might take shape. You are not on an island like you think. There are millions of us both male and female who struggle with the effects and consequences of domestic violence and abuse.

You are loved. You are wanted. And you deserve the good things that life has to offer. Thanks for reading! And I hope you look for the next blog in a couple of days that I post that will help you begin to find your voice. The power to heal is now and ours.

Affirmation: My story has power and inspiration through it.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

 #Thispuzzledlife

Domestic Violence And Animal Cruelty

“The connection between domestic violence and animal cruelty is so significant that it is commonly referred to simply as “the Link.” Perpetrators of domestic violence often threaten harm or bring actual harm to their victims’ pets in order to control them, keep victims from leaving, or to punish them for actually leaving or attempting to leave.”

-ASPCA.org

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to discuss domestic violence and pets. I won’t pretend that this topic is going to be easy to digest. However, it’s one that needs to be brought into the light.

Many of us sometimes love our animals more than people. I know, speaking only for myself, that my animals have always been a source of comfort, unconditional love, and understanding that many people can’t fully embody. They have never spoken a word as their compassion is in their eyes. And all they ask for is to be fed and also loved in return. That is, it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

My personal experience with domestic violence is knowing that absolutely nothing is off limits. And it is their cruelty that can always get worse. Do some abusers change? Yes. But if they are not willing to do self-reflection and to look at their own traumas and behaviors, then they will not change. And most blame their actions on the victim.

Please Read The Following:

     Up to 75% of women entering DV shelters report that their abuser threatened, harmed, or killed their pets in the presence of children (safehouse.org, 2024).

     Up to 65% of domestic violence victims and 48% of battered women remain in abusive homes out of fear for their pets.

     Only around 5% of U.S. shelters have any kind of housing for pets of domestic violence victims (https://www.drmartybecker.com, 2017).

Why Do Abuser Use Pets To Terrorize Their Human Partners?

·        Creating fear: Abusers may torture or kill a pet to demonstrate what they are capable of doing to their human victim or their children.

v  There were many times when I saw and heard my ex-husband’s violence against my animals. He would muzzle my outside dogs all night long most of the time. And he would beat my cats with a belt if they meowed at night. He also scared my cats so much with a broom that they began to have a very strong fear reaction for many years following me leaving him.

·        Leverage to prevent escape: Many women fear for their pet’s safety is the primary reason they delay leaving an abusive relationship.

v  One of his favorite things to say was, “One day you’re going to look up and all of your animals will be gone. You just might come home one day, and they will have vanished.”

·        Punishment and retaliation: Abusers may harm a pet as punishment for a perceived transgression or in retaliation for a partner trying to leave.

v  After 13 years of being in a domestic violence situation, and over a year of planning my departure, I left him hoping things would cool down enough to go back and get my animals as a way of saying, “I’m done.” Two weeks later, I went back to retrieve my animals, and most had been starved. There was no water. A few of the ones remaining had been eaten by other animals or were mysteriously cut in half. On that day, I was able to get out two cats and my African Grey parrot. Only three of the many that I owned. My cats were starving and had old, moldy food. My bird had moldy food and dirty water. My outside cats were nowhere to be found. And my dogs had been shot which was witnessed by a neighbor. And the sights and smells can never be undone.

·        Forcing participation: Some women survivors tell about how they were forced to participate in illegal acts under threat of harm to their pets.

v  Luckily, I was never forced to do this. Because they would’ve had to do something for me. Because I don’t have the capability to hurt my pets.

“Seeing her hurt was more than I could bear. 

I couldn’t and wouldn’t leave my pets.”

-Sarah, DV Victim

Women have reported:

“He kicked the dog repeatedly until it was howling in pain.”

“He put his hand into the goldfish bowl in front of my five-year-old daughter and squashed the goldfish, for no apparent reason.”

“I can remember an instance when he picked the cat up and with full force drop-kicked it from the back door. He did it because he saw the cat on the workshop. I thought the cat might die.”

“He would refuse to allow us to feed the dog-saying he was ugly.” (https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov, 2008).

Resources for victims who want to leave with their pets:

·        National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

·        The Purple Leash Project

o   Our goal: To see 25% of domestic violence shelters become pet-friendly by 2025.

·        Safe Havens for Pets

o   For pets are sheltering services that help individuals who are experiencing domestic violence or homelessness with a companion animal (https://www.safehavensforpets.org, 2023).

·        RedRover Relief

o   Mission is to “bring animals out of crisis and strengthen the bond between people and animals through emergency sheltering, disaster-relief services, financial assistance, and education.

·        URINYC PALS (New York City)

·        Paws for Safety (Rockland County, New York)

·        Praline’s Backyard (Snellville, Georgia)

·        Ahimsa House (Georgia)

·        Shelter our Pets (New Jersey)

·        Network for Pets of Domestic Violence Victims (www.npdvv.org).

·        This is a list of pet-friendly domestic violence shelters (https://saftprogram.org, 2025).

I completely and unapologetically understand the fear that abusers instill in victims about their victims and their pets. I encourage you to seek help by way of organizations that are listed here and the many others that I don’t have the space to acknowledge. Animal abuse is a crime in all 50 states. And  each state has anti-cruelty statutes that include felony-level provisions for acts of violence against animals. 

And they will “love bomb”  and abuse you until you concede. That is part of their “reign of terror.” They are master manipulators and will suck the soul from your mind and body. And then tell people that you enjoyed it. It is imperative for you and those you love, including your pets, to find a way out of that situation. I beg you to please continue searching for help in every way possible. Because they will do it again. And candy and flowers won’t make it better.

Thanks for reading even though difficult it may be. Please seek help for those you love even if that is for yourself. You and your pets are worth the love and compassion that is waiting for you all. Keep reading. Keep hope alive.

Affirmation: I forgive myself for believing all relationships are abusive and violent.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife