What Victim Services Should Look Like
Sybill left on a Tuesday morning while he was at work. Her hands shook as she packed two small bags—one for her, one for her daughter. She'd made the call three days earlier to The Women's Advocacy Center, and they told her they could help. They would be waiting at a place where she and her daughter could be safe.
When she arrived, a caseworker met her at the door. Not with judgment, but with a warm smile, some toiletries, supplies, and safe shelter for up to ten days. Over the following weeks, Sybill found more than safe housing. She found a community. TWAC helped her file a protective order. A legal advocate walked her through each step and even sat beside her in court. A job counselor updated her resume and connected her with employers who understood her situation. Her daughter attended on-site childcare while Sarah met with other ladies in a support group where she began to rebuild her sense of self-worth.
Within three months, Sybill had secured stable employment. TWAC helped her transition into subsidized housing by paying the first month’s rent and a security deposit. They provided furniture donations and paid for counseling services. Sybill wasn't just surviving anymore—she was building a new life. Her daughter stopped having nightmares and started sleeping through the night again.
This is what comprehensive support looks like. This is what happens when resources exist to catch women and children when they take the courageous leap toward safety.
What It Actually Looks Like Now
Sybill left on a Tuesday morning while he was at work. Her hands shook as she packed two small bags—one for her, one for her daughter. She'd made the call three days earlier to The Women's Advocacy Center. Sadly, the organization was at capacity.
She tried calling four shelters. All full. The domestic violence hotline gave her numbers for shelters two counties away, but she had no idea how she would go that far and keep her job. She couldn't miss work—she'd lose the only income keeping her and her daughter afloat.
That first night, they slept in her car in a grocery store parking lot. She was so scared that she knew she could not live like this with her daughter. The second night, Sybill went back. She told him she was sorry. That she'd been stressed and that it wouldn't happen again.
He believed her because it served him to believe her. The violence didn't stop—it never does. But now Sybill knew he was right – there was nowhere for her to go. She’d seen the reality: the system that should catch her is broken. The safety net that should be there has holes too wide for a woman and child to avoid falling through.
Sybill stays because staying is the only option that keeps a roof over her daughter's head. She stays because survival sometimes means choosing a known danger over the unknown dangers of homelessness. She stays because we, as a society, have decided that protecting survivors is somehow negotiable.
The Reality We Can't Ignore
These aren't hypothetical scenarios. Every day, women like Sybill are making impossible choices because federal funding cuts have gutted the services designed to protect them and their children. The Women's Advocacy Center puts survivors on a waiting list not because we want to, but because we no longer have the resources to say yes to every woman in need.
Read our white paper to understand the full scope of this crisis and the devastating impact on our community's most vulnerable residents. Then, please donate today. Your contribution isn't just charity, it's a lifeline. It's the difference between Sybill’s first story and her second. It's the difference between safety and survival.
Because every woman deserves to live safely and without fear.
