Victims of abuse are being traumatized again by their abusers by the very systems that claim to protect them.
Victims of abuse are being traumatized again by their abusers by the very systems that claim to protect them. Across the country, survivors are discovering that leaving an abusive relationship does not end the harm. In many cases, it marks the beginning of a new and often more devastating phase of abuse carried out through courts, protective orders, and legal procedures.
Protective orders were designed as emergency tools to provide safety. In practice, they are increasingly being used as weapons. Abusers file repeated petitions, make false or exaggerated allegations, and exploit ex parte processes that remove rights before facts are examined. Survivors report losing housing, employment, parental access, and reputations based on allegations they were never given a fair chance to contest. The trauma does not stop. It mutates and becomes institutional.
This form of harm is often called post separation abuse, but that language understates the reality. What survivors are experiencing is coercive control executed through legal systems. When an abuser can repeatedly drag someone into court, force them to spend money they do not have, trigger fear of arrest or incarceration, and control their movement and speech through filings alone, the abuse continues with state power behind it.
Courts frequently treat each filing in isolation. Judges may see a single petition and assume good faith without being shown the broader pattern. Serial filings across jurisdictions are rarely connected. Dismissed cases are forgotten. Contradictory allegations are overlooked. The system lacks mechanisms to identify abuse of process, and as a result, those who misuse protective orders often face no consequences.
For survivors, the psychological impact is profound. Many describe feeling hunted rather than protected. The legal process itself becomes a trigger. Each notice, hearing, or order recreates the fear and helplessness of the original abuse. Instead of recovery, survivors enter a cycle of hypervigilance, financial collapse, and chronic stress. The system reinforces the abuser’s narrative by treating the survivor as a perpetual respondent rather than a person seeking safety and stability.
This failure is not accidental. Most protective order statutes were written without acknowledging coercive control, psychological abuse, or legal system manipulation. They assume abuse is physical, isolated, and easily identifiable. They do not account for abusers who understand how to perform victimhood on paper while continuing harm through procedure. When the law lacks language to name the abuse, it lacks the ability to stop it.
The result is a quiet crisis. Survivors are silenced not because they lack evidence, but because the system does not know how to see patterns. Protective orders are granted without scrutiny and dismissed without accountability. Meanwhile, the trauma accumulates. Survivors are told to trust the system even as the system retraumatizes them.
Reform is not about weakening protections. It is about restoring their integrity. A system that cannot distinguish between protection and persecution is failing everyone. Survivors deserve safety without surrendering due process. Courts need tools to identify bad faith filings, recognize patterns of coercive control, and prevent the legal system from becoming an extension of abuse.
Until this is addressed, victims everywhere will continue to face a painful truth. Leaving an abuser does not guarantee safety when the system itself can be turned against them. The harm does not end. It is simply given a case number.



Comments
Post a Comment
Please leave a comment