The Cost Of Protection

Nearly six years ago, my sister created SHE'S FREE TO BE! after I escaped a violent and coercively controlling relationship. Friends, family, and people I had never met contributed at a moment when I was rebuilding my life while simultaneously navigating the legal system in search of protection.

That support mattered. It still does.

In April 2021, I was granted a five-year Order of Protection. I could not have imagined then that years later I would still be navigating the legal consequences of the violence I escaped—or how much work, time, and financial resources seeking and maintaining that protection would require.

I am currently back in Family Court seeking a five-year extension of that Order of Protection.

I am not seeking continued protection because I have failed to move forward with my life. I am seeking it precisely because I have.

I have rebuilt. I have reclaimed my autonomy. I have continued making art, working, speaking publicly, and creating a life beyond what happened to me. Protection has been part of making that possible.

One of the things I have learned through this experience is that coercive control does not necessarily end when a person physically escapes. Control can change form after separation. It can continue through intimidation, third parties, reputational harm, surveillance, attempts to enlist institutions, and the legal system itself.

There has also been a cost to speaking out and seeking accountability. I chose not to disappear quietly into what happened to me. I have spoken about violence in the home and coercive control, reached outward for accountability, and used my experience and my art in the hope that greater understanding can contribute to prevention. Reclaiming my voice and autonomy has been part of rebuilding my life. Speaking, seeking accountability, and refusing silence have also carried consequences of their own.

Litigation abuse can become a means of continuing coercive control after separation. Court proceedings and legal processes can become another arena through which a survivor's time, attention, emotional resources, and money are consumed. Even when a survivor is the person seeking protection, navigating the system can impose an enormous burden.

For most survivors that burden can last years.

Violence in the home does not remain in the home. Its consequences ripple outward—through families and friendships, into workplaces and livelihoods, through courts, healthcare systems, schools, communities, and the institutions survivors must rely upon while trying to rebuild. Survivors can spend years navigating legal systems simply to obtain and maintain basic safety and protection, while employment and financial stability are affected by the demands of recovery and prolonged legal proceedings. What is commonly called “domestic” violence is not merely a private matter between two people. Its consequences are societal. The financial burden of seeking safety, protection, and accountability should not be understood as a survivor's alone to carry.

My purpose in speaking about this experience is not merely to make observations about my own case.

I am simultaneously doing two things: trying to obtain protection for myself within the system, and studying what the experience of having to obtain that protection reveals about the system. I did not choose the assignment, but I have decided to learn from it.

The question I keep returning to is:

What happens to the person who cannot do what I have been doing?

What happens to someone who cannot spend hours, days, and weeks reconstructing procedural history; who cannot organize hundreds of pages of records and evidence; who cannot repeatedly travel between court and government offices; who does not know how to identify or challenge a procedural error; who assumes that when an attorney or authority figure says something cannot be done, it must be true?

What happens to someone working two jobs, without reliable internet access, who does not speak legal English comfortably, who is intimidated by lawyers, judges, police, clerks, or bureaucracy, who fears retaliation—or who simply becomes exhausted?

That question has transformed my individual experience into an observation about the system itself.

My safety remains the immediate objective. My autonomy remains non-negotiable. But I am also accumulating knowledge from the position of someone actually required to navigate this system. When I encounter another procedural failure, contradiction, inaccessible process, or institutional barrier, I try not only to solve the immediate problem, but to understand what that experience reveals about the structure surrounding it.

I am on assignment. For all victims of Intimate Terrorism.

And that assignment has come at a cost. Rebuilding financially has been part of rebuilding my life, and I have worked consistently toward that goal. But financial recovery does not happen separately from the demands of an ongoing legal proceeding. Court appearances, preparation, research, document production, travel, and the hundreds of hours required to navigate a proceeding of this duration compete directly with the time available for paid work and financial recovery.

There is stigma attached both to violence in the home and to financial hardship. I reject the idea that either should require silence. Financial independence matters deeply to me, but independence does not mean pretending that years of legal proceedings have had no economic consequence.

So I am making that consequence visible too.

Over these years, I have carried substantial costs associated with seeking and maintaining legal protection. They include past legal fees, hundreds of pages of copying and printing, preparation and reproduction of court documents and exhibits, mailing and service-related expenses, transportation, and the many other costs that accumulate through prolonged proceedings.

DOCUMENTED LEGAL EXPENSES

Litigation Abuse and the Financial Cost of Seeking Protection

Litigation abuse is the misuse of legal proceedings as a means of continuing control, harassment, intimidation, coercion, or financial depletion after separation. Guidance developed for judicial officers has recognized that court proceedings can become another arena through which abuse continues. Even when a survivor is seeking protection, prolonged litigation can consume substantial amounts of time, money, emotional resources, and attention, while interfering with employment and financial recovery.

This is one reason the financial consequences of violence in the home do not necessarily end when a person physically escapes.

The accounting below documents legal expenses I incurred while seeking and maintaining protection and while navigating years of related legal proceedings. These figures are presented not simply as receipts, but as part of the record of what protection can cost.

Attorney / Law Firm                                        Documented Amount

The Law Office of Crystal R. Villasenor, PLLC            $11,925.00

The Law Firm of John Yacos, P.C.                              $  4,109.50

Diana Mohyi Attorney at Law, P.C.                             $  5,680.50

TOTAL DOCUMENTED LEGAL EXPENSES            $21,715.00

The original fundraising goal was established while the legal proceedings were still ongoing, before all subsequent legal expenses had been incurred and tallied.

This figure does not represent the full economic cost of the proceedings. It does not include the copying and printing, preparation and reproduction of court documents and exhibits, mailing and service-related expenses, transportation, or the substantial unpaid time required to prepare for and navigate proceedings of this duration.

The underlying attorney invoices contain detailed descriptions of communications, legal research, litigation preparation, court appearances, filings, and other legal work. Those billing narratives, along with personal and account information, are not reproduced publicly because they are unnecessary to establish the financial cost and may contain private or confidential information. The original billing records have been preserved separately.

Source on litigation abuse: Domestic Violence Manual for Judges, Washington State Administrative Office of the Courts (2015), Abusive Litigation and Domestic Violence Survivors, Appendix H.

For those who believe in this effort, contributing is one way to share some of that financial burden and help replenish resources already spent, while I continue pursuing protection, accountability, and prevention.

Throughout A MIRror of DREAD, I use art and witness to examine Intimate Terrorism, coercive control, and the lived experience of violence in the home—transforming that experience into art, testimony, and public education in the hope that witnessing these patterns can contribute to greater understanding, accountability, and prevention.

True accountability means recognizing that “domestic” violence—Intimate Terrorism—is not only an individual failure of the abuser, but also a broader societal failure whenever warning signs are ignored, survivors are dismissed, or institutions prioritize appearances over protection. Ending “domestic” violence requires cultural change, institutional competence, public accountability, and an unwavering commitment to the safety, dignity, and humanity of survivors.

For everyone who supported me when this journey began—and everyone encountering my story for the first time—thank you.

If you would like to help share the financial cost of my continued effort to obtain protection, contributions can be made through SHE'S FREE TO BE! on GoFundMe.

Six years ago, the goal was to help me get free. Today, the work is about protecting the freedom and autonomy I fought so hard to reclaim.