Priscilla Booker KRY 4 Help Foundation

Priscilla Booker KRY 4 Help Foundation We are a non profit 501 C-3 foundation striving to help anyone with Domestic Violence

01/11/2026

When I was a little girl, I was sexually abused by my foster mother’s boyfriend.
My first time being abused was in the foster home. After being separated from my siblings, my foster mom would leave me with her boyfriend and the other kids, and that’s when he’d abuse me. When I wanted to say something I got bullied and tortured even more, so I just zipped my lips. I thought this would be my life. I hated not having my parents, and feeling like no one loved me. When I was 8, one of my family members took us in. Thinking it was a safe heaven because I’m with family, but that didn’t stop anything. From age 8-11, I was sexually assaulted by one of my cousins. And of course when I said something, I was punished. I was sooooo tired, and I just wanted to be happy. I even tried to commit su***de. I hated my life. I suffered anxiety, silent depression, an abandonment issues as a child. But then, I met friends and teachers that literally loved on me, and they helped me in school and with therapy. I thought I was healing, I was getting somewhere in life. As an adult, one night I went to a club and I drunk the wrong drink. I got in a car with a man, thinking I was okay because a family member was following us, and somehow the guy drove off and there I was a victim again. I was dragged by my neck, suffering strangulation, and I was assaulted in the woods. I blamed myself for a long time, but I know I didn’t deserve that. I saw a therapist shortly after, and I fought the case myself. Nobody came to court with me, Nobody even asked if I was okay.
I suffered nightmares and separation anxiety. A year later, God blessed me with my daughter. She saved my life. I was ready to throw in the towel, and I can admit to that. I saw that same therapist again, a couple years later when I was in a bad car accident from drinking. I almost killed myself and my cousin. The therapist looked at me and said “Soon as I heard your name, I ran in here to see if it was you.” It was me, and I told her I needed help. I grew up being abused as a little girl, multiple times, to being abused as a 22 year old woman. I carry that weight on me every day. But with GOD by my side, that same therapist, and my daughter, they’ve really helped me a lot with everything I’ve been through. I want to speak to young victims, and let them know it isn’t your fault, and you’re not to blame. You can get through this, and you don’t have to give up so easily. Giving up, is the easy part. You can fight through whatever testimony you’ve been through, especially with god on your side. Today, I’m a brave strong woman and I have my moments, but I’m not what happened to me. I’m more than just being molested or r@ped. I’m a survivor, and I will succeed. I know I have a future in front of me, and I will keep pushing until I reach my goal. I’ve had to sleep on kitchen floors, for wetting the bed because I was scared someone was going to come touch me. I’m glad to be able to share my story, because maybe it will save someone who is fighting in silence.

You can help a child protect themselves from abusers, by gifting them a FREE Tell Somebody book! 📚 gofundme.com/GiveAFreeBook

Child abusers, please stop and seek therapy and God.
Parents, talk with and believe your children. ❤️
Survivors, seek therapy. 💪🏽
(To share your story of abuse, message me)
www.TellSomebodyToday.com

01/10/2026

My mom sold me to a child abuser, after years of being sexually abused by her boyfriends and husbands.
I was born into a family of abuse, so I thought it was normal. I never knew my dad, but I had 5 step dads. And many, MANY of mom's boyfriends before, during, and after each marriage. Some of these grown men thought it was ok to help me in the bathroom, as a toddler. Their fingers touched places that they shouldn't have. If I cried, “I wasn't being a good girl or a big girl.” As a child, I use to have night terrors. If anyone came to check on me, it was a man that rubbed me in the wrong places or again, let his hands go in places that caused me the night terrors to begin with. If I cried, “I was ungrateful that someone even came to check on me.” Once at school, I told and I told. Nobody helped, nobody cared. I was called a liar, and they ignored me. They didn’t bathe me or feed me, until it was time to please them. Then I was used and abused to the point, that I just couldn't take it anymore. At age 13, my mom sold me to a pe*****le. I got pregnant… surprise, surprise. I was made to marry him at 14.
I had children at age 14, 15, and 17. I endured 5 years of extreme physical and sexual abuse, from this grown man who was supposed to be my husband. He gave me very little food. He threw away my prenatal vitamins. We moved around a lot. In 3 different states, the police and cops knew about my abuse. Still, nobody helped me. I finally left him when I was 18, and I could legally take my children with me. It was hard. I didn't know what time to eat, what to eat, or if I could eat. I didn't know when to go to sleep or when to get up. I didn't even know if I was allowed to go outside. But, I finally started coming out of my shell. I LOVED to cook, and feeding my children fun meals. I went through the phase of drinking and drugs, I had to do something to stop the screaming in my head. I'm sober now. The screaming still shows up sometimes, and I've had at least 7 therapist in 20+ years. But I read the Tell Somebody page all the time, and It gives me strength to know all those men & women spoke up, and are so brave. I just need people to know that survival happens. Even if it's hard...

You can help a child protect themselves from abusers, by gifting them a FREE Tell Somebody book! 📚 gofundme.com/GiveAFreeBook

Child abusers, please stop and seek therapy and God.
Parents, talk with and believe your children. ❤️
Survivors, seek therapy. 💪🏽
(To share your story of abuse, message me)
www.TellSomebodyToday.com

01/10/2026

I am a survivor of sexual abuse, starting at age 4 and sold to an older man, at the age of 13.
I was the 6th of 7 children. The first girl, born into a house where love was absent and survival was the only language spoken. My father drank, my mother numbed herself with pills, and their marriage was a battlefield of fists and words. By the time I was 4, the violence had found me too — not from strangers, but from my own brother. He sexually assaulted me until I was 11. I learned to hide in closets, under beds, even on rooftops, pressing my nose against shingles so no one could see me. I prayed to disappear, convinced that God was punishing me for something I couldn’t name. By 7, I wanted to die. Hunger gnawed at me, silence surrounded me, and the world felt colder than any winter night. When my parents sold everything and we lived in tents and abandoned buildings, I understood what it meant to be tortured. No teacher, no neighbor, no relative ever asked if I was okay. Their silence was louder than my screams.
At 14, my childhood ended with a ring. My mother traded me to a man twice my age, in exchange for her bills paid and a few dollars in her pocket. 6 days after my birthday, I was a bride — though really, I was a child sold. The courthouse echoed with voices calling me “mature” and “lucky,” but inside I was screaming. I didn’t want marriage; I wanted freedom. I ran. I resisted. I said no. And eventually, I escaped. At 17, I was free of him, but not of the scars. For years, I stumbled through abusive relationships, trying to learn how to live when no one had ever taught me. Then came the turning point. I chose to break the cycle. I returned to high school in my 30’s, graduating with honors. In my 40’s, I learned welding — a skill that gave me stability and pride. Slowly, painfully, I faced the demons that had chased me since childhood. Today, I am no longer defined by the darkness I was born into. I am defined by the light I fought to create. My story is not just about survival — it is about reclaiming myself, piece by piece, until I could finally say: I am in control, not my past.

You can help a child protect themselves from abusers, by gifting them a FREE Tell Somebody book! 📚 gofundme.com/GiveAFreeBook

Child abusers, please stop and seek therapy and God.
Parents, talk with and believe your children. ❤️
Survivors, seek therapy. 💪🏽
(To share your story of abuse, message me)
www.TellSomebodyToday.com

01/09/2026

A man sexually assaulted me when I was 5. He was a friend of the family.
I was taken to the hospital. I had to learn how to Re-walk again. He was never locked up. I was taken from my mom, separated from my siblings and adopted by my aunt. Another man started messing with me at 9 years old. Another man messed with me when I was 11 years old, for years. He got caught with me at a motel, and was taken to the police station for questioning. I was taken to the hospital to be examined, then to the police station for questions. He didn’t get locked up. Another man got me pregnant at 13, when he was 36. A DNA test was done when I was 15, and I felt failed. Even though he was proved to be my daughter’s father, he didn’t get locked up. At 14, my son’s dad started messing with me, he was 23. He began to beat me. I would call the police, and he would get a domestic violence charge. I escaped abuse at age 23.
None of my abusers were ever charged. I started hearing God’s voice in 2019. God told me to quit my job January of 2020. I did just that. Not knowing how I would make it financially, but God made a way. I broke silence July 3, 2020 by sharing my story of abuse. God spoke to me in a dream September 3, 2020. I woke up the next morning and did as God instructed. I instantly fell to the floor, and immediately the chains fell off of me. I cried out to God asking him to deliver me and help me. That night, I woke up speaking in tongues. God had healed, delivered, and set me free. I kept hearing God’s voice. God told me it was time to write my book. I picked up my laptop January 2021. My book “My Pain is My Power,” was published on Amazon and Barnes and Nobles. It’s an inspirational book, that others have said has helped them in their life. I now have a Nonprofit Organization called “We Believe You” because I was not believed. And I instantly lost my inner voice and went into a shell, that took 27 years to come out of.

You can help a child protect themselves from abusers, by gifting them a FREE Tell Somebody book! 📚 gofundme.com/GiveAFreeBook

Child abusers, please stop and seek therapy and God.
Parents, talk with and believe your children. ❤️
Survivors, seek therapy. 💪🏽
(To share your story of abuse, message me)
www.TellSomebodyToday.com

12/24/2025

My grandfather r@ped me, when I was 14.
My siblings and I were removed from our mother, and placed with my grandfather and his wife. From day one, I was blamed for almost everything in the house and punished constantly. I spent most of my time alone, isolated, and walking on eggshells. His wife always tried to say I had mental problems. I was depressed because I missed my mom. She took me to behavioral techs, and they told her nothing was wrong with me. She would lie and tell them that I try to kill animals, and destroy property. When I was 14, my grandfather began crossing personal boundaries in ways that made me deeply uncomfortable, and unsafe. One day he pulled out 2 liquids, one clear and the other white, and he asked which one I liked? He then gave me a note that said, “Can I rub lotion on your back, and can I help you wash your back in the shower?” I shook my head no, and he walked away. I was scared, confused, and didn’t understand why someone who was supposed to care for me, was acting this way. That night we had pizza for dinner, and my drink tasted like a nasty pill, like he put medicine in it. After I ate, I went to take my shower. As soon as I got in, my grandfather came in with some lotion and asked if he could help me wash my back. I said, “No I’m fine,” but he kept trying to creep the shower curtain open. Eventually he left, and I got dressed and got in my bed. Then I heard him come in my room, and my body froze.
My grandfather came over to me, and started feeling underneath my shirt. He put his fingers in my privates, and then he r@ped me. When he was done, he wiped me down, sprayed his cologne, and he took a shower. My grandfather left for a couple of days because he’s in the Army, and I told his wife everything. I told her I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t feel safe, and I didn’t want him to come back. She said he wasn’t coming back, she was divorcing him. I asked could I go back with my mom, she said my mom didn’t want me. She pretended she was going to leave him, but she never did. She stayed by his side. She even lied about him getting a lie detector test. A friend helped me get a phone, and I reached out to my mother. She told me to tell a teacher about the abuse, and once I did, I was removed from my grandfather’s home permanently and placed into foster care for my safety. The police couldn’t move forward because too much time had passed, which left me carrying the weight of what happened, while they continued their lives as if nothing occurred. I’ve been harassed by his wife’s children. There have been so many lies told about me, and they are still married today. His wife said I can’t come around until I apologize to the family for what I did, when I did nothing. My innocence was taken away from me. Even after all these years, I stand firm in my truth. I know what I went through. I’m speaking up now because my voice matters. I refuse to stay silent, not just for myself, but for anyone who has ever been ignored, doubted, or blamed for their own trauma.

You can help a child protect themselves from abusers, by gifting them a FREE Tell Somebody book! 📚 gofundme.com/GiveAFreeBook

Child abusers, please stop and seek therapy and God.
Parents, talk with and believe your children. ❤️
Survivors, seek therapy. 💪🏽
(To share your story of abuse, message me)
www.TellSomebodyToday.com

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Richmond, VA

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