Norm Therapy

12/14/2025

We wish you a meaningful Hanukkah filled with light, joy, and the spirit of resilience. 🎁

As the menorah candles burn bright, may the miracle of light inspire hope and action in our community. 🕯️✡️

12/01/2025

The Worst I've Ever Seen: A Cop's Confession

WARNING: This post has discussions of Child Abuse. Discretion advised.

A quiet Southern town where days move slow and nights fall still.

Neighbors wave from their porches. Parents trade stories. Everyone thinks they know everyone.

Or at least, everyone thinks they do.

In towns like this, evil doesn’t usually come with warning signs. It becomes the house you drive past on your way to work or the family you greet at the grocery store.

April 27, 2015, began like any other day. Oklahoma police officer Jody Thompson, shaped by this small town and its sense of duty, will forever remember the day the call came in. A young boy had run to a neighbor’s house, breathless, shaking, claiming his parents were trying to kill him.

Even for hardened officers, the words cut through the air like ice. But for Jody, trained in Child Abuse, it stirred something deeper. He rushed to the address. What he found inside would stay with him forever.

The house was quiet. When Jody stepped inside, the smell hit first: rot, mildew, neglect. The kind of smell that tells you something was terribly wrong.

Then he saw the boy, John, who was fragile and barely holding on.

His hands were tied. His body was a roadmap of pain, cuts, bruises, and scars everywhere. A grotesque knot swelled on his head, the size of a tennis ball.

This wasn’t just a crime scene. It was a house of torment. Locks on the outside of the child’s bedroom door. Filth covering the floors. Little to no food.

Not a home, a prison.

John was taken immediately into protective custody. At the hospital, doctors admitted him straight to the ICU. He was malnourished, dehydrated, and traumatized beyond imagination.

And through it all, Officer Thompson stayed by his side. Because something about this child, this case, felt different.

John had been abused in ways that chilled even the most seasoned investigators. The boy had been submerged repeatedly in barrels of water. Sometimes headfirst, sometimes with lids closed over him, sometimes with bags of ice thrown in. Torture disguised as punishment. Jody later said it was one of the worst things he had ever seen done to a child who was still alive.

The boy’s parents were arrested and charged with two counts of Child Abuse by injury and neglect. Each received a 35-year sentence.

But justice, even when served, cannot erase trauma. And Jody knew that sending John to a foster home wasn’t enough.

When John was released from the hospital, Jody and his wife, already parents of two sons, with a baby on the way, opened their home to him. In an instant, their family of four became five. Then six. Then seven.

Because soon after, the Thompsons learned that John’s biological mother had given birth while in jail. And Jody didn’t hesitate. They adopted the baby, too.

Check out the full story below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UD81Jd-zw4Y

Spread love by supporting a Victim today, like John at AbuseRefuge.org.

11/29/2025

The Father Who Tried to Kill Her

WARNING: This post has discussions of Child Abuse and domestic violence. Discretion advised.

Melissa Gallagher learned early that home could be the most dangerous place to exist. Her mother, an isolated immigrant with no support system, endured the first blows. Then the violence turned to Melissa. Broken glass, slammed doors, and acted-out threats became the soundtrack of her childhood. When you grow up without safe comparisons, abuse can feel like normal life.

It wasn’t until she went to summer camp that she realized something was wrong. She couldn’t participate in activities because her ribs and arms still ached from recent beatings. A counselor noticed. Mandatory reporters are trained to speak up, and that report opened the door to CPS, school officials, and church leaders to start asking questions.

But the fallout at home was immediate. Her father threatened her siblings if she said another word. Her mother pulled her out of counseling after one session. The family blamed her for CPS involvement, a common tactic in abusive households. As depression grew, Melissa began believing that disappearing might solve everyone’s problems.

Despite everything, Melissa pursued nursing school at eighteen. When her father became severely ill, she stepped into the caretaker role for him. But on March 2nd, 2021, he erupted again, so violently that her mother barely held him back as he tried to attack her. That night marked the beginning of her homelessness.

Surviving without a home tested her in new ways. She learned firsthand what many social workers already know: escaping abuse is not a single event but a long, unstable process with many setbacks. Her father eventually offered a hollow apology, and she experienced six months of fragile peace before the cycle snapped again.

Her partner eventually signed a lease and insisted she finally have a real place to sleep. A safe room with a door that only opened when she allowed it. As time progressed, Melissa finished her nursing degree,

In the end, Melissa’s survival is not a miracle. It’s a warning. There are countless children still living in houses where screams are muffled by walls and silence is enforced by fear. They are bruised into obedience, blamed into quiet, and threatened into believing escape is impossible. Melissa crawled out of that darkness, but many never do.

If her story teaches anything, it is this: abuse doesn’t end on its own, and Victims can’t save themselves while trapped inside the violence. They need witnesses. They need intervention. They need people who refuse to look away. The question now is painfully simple: after hearing her story, will you choose to be one of them?

To watch the full story, click below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euomWzaOReA&list=PLXKR6akvUrerTYjOFvU193ZhDTIoqS4yW&index=6

‌Guard the vulnerable. Contribute to AbuseRefuge.org today.

11/28/2025

❄️ Hot Off the Press! ❄️

Our ARO & Norm Therapy® Winter 2025 Quarterly Newsletter is here!

Dive into the latest updates and insights. We'd love for you to spread the word and share with anyone who could find our work helpful!

Thank you to Amanda Hildreth for her incredible effort in managing all aspects of our newsletter and to Grace Gong for the Winter-themed design.

Please note: There are hyperlinks throughout the newsletter that you can click on to learn more!
✨ Be sure to click “accessibility mode” to access all the hyperlinks.

Wishing you a happy holiday season. ☃️🎄 ❄️

❄️ Hot Off the Press! ❄️ Our ARO & Norm Therapy® Winter 2025 Quarterly Newsletter is here! Dive into the latest updates and insights. We'd love for you to spread the word and share with anyone who could find our work helpful! Thank you to Amanda Hildreth for her incredible effort in managin...

11/27/2025

Today, we take a moment to pause and appreciate the people and progress that truly matter. We're deeply thankful for our followers, supporters, donors, and community. 🫶

Wishing you and your family a memorable day of thanks. 🙌🥧🍏

11/26/2025

Hate Disguised as Love

WARNING: This post has discussions of Emotional Abuse and R**e. Discretion is advised.

From the moment he met her, a single mother trying to juggle work and life, he was an absolute force, sweeping her off her feet with relentless, overwhelming attention. She felt seen, cherished, and finally, supported.

He didn't just ask about her struggles; he offered a solution. "Move in with me and work for my family’s business," he insisted.

The moment she settled, the light began to dim. The job he promised never materialized. She found herself stuck at home, jobless and financially reliant on him.

Then came the subtle, insidious isolation. Every close connection she had was met with his disapproval, creating a reason why they shouldn’t come around. Soon, her world shrank to just him.

When she challenged the broken promises, the gaslighting began. She was depressed, anxious, and scared.

One night, she fell asleep, exhausted from motherhood and the constant psychological warfare. When she awoke, she realized her sexual boundaries had been violated. He insisted that this was just part of their relationship that she would have to get used to.

The incidents of anger and aggression escalated quickly. The mask of the charming provider fully slipped away, replaced by volatile temper and emotional outbursts. The constant tension became an unbearable weight.

The relationship eventually ended, but the terror didn't. When his behavior finally crossed a line and she called the police, he was arrested. But when he was released, he turned the manipulation up to an eleven, begging her to forgive him, promising change, until he convinced her to drop the charges—a promise he never kept.

His final, cruel blow was delivered in court. He filed for emergency custody, using the medical records he had leveraged for years. He called her mentally unstable and a flight risk, painting her as an unfit mother.

Luckily, the judge saw through him, and she became free from his grasp.

This is the story of Michelle Brinn, who endured Psychological and Emotional Abuse at the hands of her partner. While he was also Physically Abusive, his primary weapon was psychological torture.

Almost half of American women experience psychological violence at the hands of an intimate partner.

Words are powerful. They can build or break a person. They can teach love or instill fear.

If you recognize yourself here, know this: you can still change the ending.
You can learn new ways to speak, to heal, to show love.
You can ask for help. You can stop the cycle before it reaches another generation.

For the full story, click here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGwBAS6kMNk

Empower Victims and get the help you need at AbuseRefuge.org

11/25/2025

Megan Finlan and Steven Bauer: Severe Child Neglect

WARNING: This story has discussions of Child Abuse. Discretion is advised.

Imagine a tiny plant denied water and sunlight. It doesn't instantly die, but it withers. Its stem becomes weak, its leaves turn brown and eventually dwindle. This is the fate of a neglected child.

They crave safety, stability, and the simple affirmation of their worth, but instead, they learn a devastating lesson: "I do not matter."

Neglect is often a dangerous silence. It is the persistent absence of care that sustains growth. Missed meals, unwashed clothes, the ignored cries in the night, and the chilling emptiness where encouragement and affection should be.

In 2015, one in seven American children experienced abuse or neglect (Finkelhor et al., 2015).

One of these children is Camron, neglected by his adoptive parents, Megan Finlan and Steven Bauer.

It was his teachers who noticed first. Scratches and bruises traced his arms and legs, marks inconsistent with the carefree scrapes of childhood.

Then came the hunger. At only 32 pounds at 7 years old, Camron fantasized about food the way other children might dream about toys or birthdays. When the hunger became unbearable, he scavenged. He learned how to survive on crumbs and hope.

Teachers and staff tried to help him brush his rotting teeth discreetly. The school was forced to comply when the parents intervened.

When authorities eventually got involved, Camron admitted that Finlan and Bauer often withheld food from him and locked him in a room without a bathroom for hours on end.

Bauer and Finlan claimed that Camron had severe behavioral and psychological issues, as if this was an excuse.

Their actions were not of discipline.

They were acts of domination.

When child protective services intervened, they removed not only the boy but three other siblings from the home.

During a search, investigators found family photographs displayed throughout the house. The adopted boy was missing. He existed only in paperwork.

Finlan and Bauer were later charged with Negligent Child Abuse in 2017.

We must look beyond the immediate headlines and see neglect for what it is: a shattering of potential and a tragic theft of a childhood.

Breaking this cycle requires more than judgment. It demands vigilance, compassion, and a community-wide commitment to ensure every child is seen, heard, and cherished.

Invest in safety. AbuseRefuge.org.

11/22/2025

Warning: This post has discussions of Sexual Abuse. Viewer discretion is advised.

"It Happened Again": The Double Trauma of a Boy Who Trusted

Even the strong aren’t spared from abuse.

Men are told to be strong, to protect, to endure. And in that silence, the abuse festers. No one expects them to cry, to speak, to show the pain inside. The shame becomes a cage, the memory a shadow they carry alone.

Abuse does not discriminate, and silence only makes it easier for monsters to strike again. The strongest walls can still break when no one is listening. Fear becomes a second skin, shame is a constant companion, and the lessons of silence are passed down as if they were wisdom.

For some, the monsters arrive disguised as kindness, and that’s how Dan’s story began:

Dan was sixteen when he met a man twice his age while waiting for the bus. The conversations were simple, casual, even friendly. A harmless connection in a world that often feels cold. An older man is seen as a mentor in a life lacking guidance. He didn’t know that the small acts of attention could hide danger.

One day, Dan missed his bus. He needed to get home fast. The man who had been polite, kind, and trustworthy offered him a ride on his bike. A small act of kindness, but one fueled by evil intent.

During that ride, the man asked Dan if he had ever watched po*******hy or if he wanted to touch him. Confusion and fear tangled in Dan’s chest. He said nothing. To anyone. Because men are supposed to be strong. Because boys are told they can’t be Victims. Because silence is easier than shame.

Two years later, it happened again. Not by a stranger this time, but by someone he knew. A friend. The betrayal cut deeper because the danger came from someone he trusted even more than his previous abuser.

He woke in the dark to find that friend on top of him trying to fo**le him. In shock, he yelled at him and demanded to know what was happening. The room froze. And that was the end. But the memory stayed. The fear stayed. The silence stayed.

Dan knew what was wrong because he had been taught what appropriate touch was. Because someone, somewhere, had talked about it. Knowledge was a lifeline—a fragile, small lifeline in a world that rarely protects boys.

Now, as a father, he teaches his own children what’s appropriate and what’s safe. What must be spoken. He teaches them that their bodies belong to them. That their voices matter. That silence should never be the price of survival.

One in six men experiences Sexual Abuse before the age of 18. (1in6, n.d.) Most will never say a word. Most will never be believed. And yet, abuse does not discriminate.

Because silence breeds Victims. Because abuse doesn’t care about gender. Because monsters thrive where no one looks.

Help us spark change at AbuseRefuge.org and visit NormTherapy.com today.

11/13/2025

Self-Directed Harm: When Pain Becomes a Second Language

Most people think self-harm is about weakness or attention. It isn’t. It’s the body remembering what the mind can’t say out loud.

When abuse rewires your nervous system, pain becomes the only language it knows. Every scar, every secret, every quiet moment of collapse is the body trying to speak; begging to be heard.

Healing doesn’t begin with judgment. It begins when we stop saying “just stop” and start listening to the echoes inside.

Read the full article by Journalist Zeynep to understand why self-harm isn’t a failure; it’s a message from deep within you, waiting to be translated:

https://normtherapy.com/blog/self-directed-harm-the-internalized-echo-of-abuse

Help us reach those still trapped in silence. Donate today to our 501(c)(3) non-profit at AbuseRefuge.org.

11/12/2025

Self-Directed Harm: When Pain Becomes a Second Language

Most people think self-harm is about weakness or attention. It isn’t. It’s the body remembering what the mind can’t say out loud.

When abuse rewires your nervous system, pain becomes the only language it knows. Every scar, every secret, every quiet moment of collapse is the body trying to speak; begging to be heard.

Healing doesn’t begin with judgment. It begins when we stop saying “just stop” and start listening to the echoes inside.

Read the full article by Journalist Zeynep to understand why self-harm isn’t a failure; it’s a message from deep within you, waiting to be translated:

https://normtherapy.com/blog/self-directed-harm-the-internalized-echo-of-abuse

Help us reach those still trapped in silence. Donate today to our 501(c)(3) non-profit at AbuseRefuge.org.

mouse Kelly Dehn Global Executive Director Abuse Refuge Org ⇔ ARO Our mission is vast and our outreach is global. There has never been an organization like ours with the scope and breadth of our doable objectives: — Breathe Life Dear Survivor, Over the expanse of my life, I have in one way or an...

11/11/2025

The Battles That Never End

WARNING: This post has discussions of su***de and PTSD. Discretion advised.

The gunfire stopped years ago. But for many veterans, the war never did.

You still wake to explosions that exist only in your mind — flashes of orange and white tearing through the black behind your eyelids. The air in your room is still, but you smell smoke, oil, and blood—your heart pounds like boots on gravel. You can almost taste the dust — bitter, metallic, clinging to your tongue. The screams aren’t real anymore, but they echo just the same. Your body came home, but your peace never did.

Every morning feels like patrol. Every creak of the floorboard sounds like a tripwire. Shadows hide a threat that isn’t there. A car backfires, and for a split second, your pulse surges — fight or flight, you are back in the sand, weapon tight in your grip. A friend is going down in front of you.

You keep your house dark. The light feels too harsh, too exposing. In the quiet, you hear everything — the buzz of a bulb, the rasp of your own breath, the ghosts whispering in the walls. Even stillness feels hostile.

On Veterans Day, people thank you for your service. They smile. They mean well. They don’t see you when fireworks burst overhead, painting the sky in the same violent colors that once lit up a battlefield. Crowds feel like chaos, but they don’t see that either.

The sleepless nights, the bottles emptied to drown the noise.

Some nights, silence is louder than gunfire. Some days, the enemy is memory itself.

For some, it’s all too much. There is no help for where they’ve gone and what they’ve done.

In 2022, there were 6,407 su***des among veterans— (Miller, 2024). That’s 640 squads. Nine battalions. An entire army of men and women lost to a war that never stopped fighting back.

Trauma doesn’t just haunt the mind — it rewires it. The past becomes a trap you can’t walk away from. It follows you into every room. It sleeps beside you, breathes with you, and wakes you before dawn with a scream you can’t quite swallow.

We call them heroes — yet so many battle alone, in quiet rooms, against enemies no one else can see.

This Veterans Day, remember those still fighting — not with weapons, but with memories.

Remember those who wake each day to a war that never truly ended. Remember that survival is not peace.

Because for too many, the hardest battles are the ones fought in silence.

Source:
Miller, M. (2024, December 19). VA releases 2024 National Veteran Su***de Prevention Annual Report. VA News. https://news.va.gov/137221/va-2024-su***de-prevention-annual-report/

Unlock a door to freedom for someone who needs it. Donate today at AbuseRefuge.org.

If you or someone you know is having thoughts of su***de, call or text 988 immediately to reach the 988 Su***de & Crisis Lifeline in the United States and Canada. Help is available 24/7. Norm Therapy®️ sessions are available at AbuseRefuge.org.

11/07/2025

Are you still the sunflower you once were or becoming the rose you’re meant to be?

In this week’s Norm Therapy®️ blog post, writer Ley Rie guides us through the powerful stages of womanhood: from the hopeful, bright sunflower of youth; through the messy, courageous phase of expansion; to the grounded, wise rose of authenticity and growth.

Whether you’re just finding your voice, redefining your path, or standing in your full bloom, your journey deserves honor, compassion, and space to unfold.

Read her full post for insight, encouragement, and the reminder that every season of your life matters:

https://normtherapy.com/blog/from-sunflower-to-rose-transitions-into-womanhood/

Learn more and connect with others on the path:
AbuseRefuge.org | NormTherapy.com