The 2023 Hawaii Domestic Violence Counts Report found that programs helped 847 adults and children survivors in a single day.
At one real-life scenario of domestic violence, the survivor said that her abuser loaded his guns, pointed one at his partner, and said, “If you don’t admit you were fooling around, I’ll kill you, our children, and the neighbors.”
This is the harsh reality of domestic abuse, where children witness each terrifying moment. For the person being abused, constant fear and countless questions fill their mind: “If we don’t leave now, my abuser will kill us. But what if we get caught? Where would we go? I only have a few cents — how would we survive?”
Many survivors can’t leave abusive relationships, often due to financial barriers. It takes seven attempts for a survivor to break free for good, and leaving is the most dangerous time.
In Hawaii, intimate partner violence is disturbingly common amongst Native Hawaiian women. They face higher rates of domestic violence than non-Hawaiians in the same age groups.
Filipino women represent Hawaii’s second-largest ethnic group affected by domestic abuse, experiencing higher rates of fatal violence compared to Japanese and Native Hawaiian women.
Forty years ago, my two children and I became victims of domestic violence. For five years, we endured constant yelling, interrogation, threats and isolation. My abuser owned numerous guns, and nearly every night for three months, he would point one at me, threatening to kill us all.
Though terrified to leave, I knew staying could mean death. Financial worries, housing concerns and the cost of returning to Hawaii weighed on me, but eventually, I knew we had to escape. With a neighbor’s help, we entered a domestic violence shelter in California.
At the shelter, facilitators helped us access food stamps, medical care and financial aid. My anxiety eased, and I believed we could start a new life. But the trauma didn’t end there.
Today, I live with post-traumatic stress, dissociative features and bipolar depression. Both of my children faced lifelong mental health challenges. My daughter Christina, in particular, battled schizophrenia, which made caring for her incredibly difficult.
Our journey to rebuild was long and difficult. Tragically, my two children passed away from heart attacks four years ago. With the help of extensive support, I continue to carry on. Support from Queen’s Medical Center Outpatient Treatment Services, dialectical behavioral therapy and the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) has been crucial to my healing.
Through NAMI, I’ve attended countless support groups and events, sharing my experiences with domestic violence and mental illness. After the audience cried during one of my speeches, it confirmed that my work to give back to the community has made a difference.
For families living in a domestic violence shelter, the path to healing is filled with challenges. Many mothers and children arrive with little more than the clothes on their backs, leaving everything behind to escape. Adjusting to shelter life is difficult, and the psychological toll of abuse lingers long after the immediate threat has passed.
I recently joined the Aloha Pono Lions Club, an organization dedicated to supporting those less fortunate and the underprivileged. On behalf of the club, we gave Halloween treats to all 49 children living in a domestic abuse shelter, and will be giving Christmas presents to both the children and the 25 mothers living there.
Helping make life better is what the club is all about. Seeing children happy to receive treats and gifts is what matters most to our group, which shows love and care through acts of community service.
Jenny Delos Santos is an author and community advocate for mental health and domestic violence issues.
