By Oluchi Evelyn Boboye
She didn’t need a hero. She needed someone to sit beside her in the silence, when the noise of the world felt too loud.
He didn’t need a rescue mission. He needed to be believed at the first time; not the fifth.
Being with survivors doesn’t mean showing up only when the headlines spike or the rumors spread like wildfire, or the victim is someone close by or someone you know.
It means showing up still, a lifelong commitment to showing up, speaking up, and backing up our words with real support even when the rumors cease, when the courts close, and when healing is messy.
This isn’t just a month-long campaign. It’s a lifelong promise, and it starts with how we choose to care when no one is watching.
Being With Survivors, Always means showing up long after the crisis call ends, after the bruises fade, after the world forgets. It’s checking in without needing a reason, believing without demanding proof, and standing beside them without needing applause. True allyship is loud, steady, and often visible, and to a survivor, it can mean everything. October may raise awareness, but our actions beyond this month reveal our truth. So the real question is: when the purple ribbons come down, will you still be there?
Standing with survivors goes far beyond sympathy or a well-meaning hashtag. It means creating space for their stories without trying to control the narrative. Emotionally, it’s about believing survivors; not just when it’s easy or convenient, but when their truth is uncomfortable, complex, or challenges our own biases. It means practicing trauma-informed listening, checking our assumptions, and resisting the urge to offer quick fixes. It’s understanding that healing isn’t linear and that presence, being consistent and nonjudgmental can be more powerful than any solution we try to impose.
But presence must be paired with action. Being with survivors also means advocating for systems that protect them, not punish them. It’s voting for policies that fund shelters and crisis centers, demanding legal reform that centers survivor safety over procedural convenience, and ensuring that financial support, housing, childcare, job protection is not a privilege, but a guarantee. Too many survivors are forced to choose between safety and survival, between escaping abuse and risking homelessness. Political allyship means fighting to change that equation. If October reminds us that domestic violence exists, the months that follow must prove we’re committed to ending it.
True solidarity doesn’t wait for headlines, funding cycles, or social media campaigns to dictate urgency. It requires us to remain rooted in the loud, often visible commitment of care when no one is watching, when it’s inconvenient, when it costs us time, energy, or comfort. Survivors live with the impact of violence every day; our support must be just as consistent. Standing with survivors means standing through the aftermath, through the policy decisions, through the difficult conversations that challenge systems and social norms. It’s not about showing up when it feels good; it’s about staying when it’s hard. Because the real measure of allyship is not how loudly we speak in October, but how faithfully we show up the rest of the year.
The most powerful thing anyone ever did for me wasn’t rescuing me — it was staying. Staying when I doubted myself. Staying when I had nothing. Staying long after the violence ended. That’s when I started to believe I could be whole again.” - Anonymous Survivor
— Anonymous Survivor
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