Domestic Violence Survivor: Kimberly Smith’s Story

CHATTANOOGA, Tenn. (WDEF) – For years, Kimberly Smith lived in silence, trapped in a relationship that left her afraid to speak and ashamed to be seen.

Today, she stands as the Vice President of Voices, a survivor-led organization through the Family Justice Center.

Voices helps others find hope, healing, and the strength to rebuild something Smith once had to find for herself.

“My story began the way most do,” she said. “You meet someone you think is charismatic and kind, and you’re drawn to their personality. Very quickly, we decided to start a life together.”

In the beginning, she ignored warning signs that something wasn’t right.

“There was drinking involved on both parts,” Smith said. “I would just chalk things up to, well, we drank too much, or he drank too much. You get really good at making excuses for behaviors.”

That pattern of excuse-making continued until one night when an argument turned violent.

“He punched my windshield out and pulled me off the couch,” she said. “I ended up bruised but still went on my trip and made excuses for what happened.”

Smith said manipulation became a constant cycle.

“He was very good at the ‘I just love you so much’ and ‘I just felt so bad about what I did,’” she said. “I wanted the fairy tale. I wanted the story.”

They married soon after, but the abuse grew worse.

Within a month, she faced one of the most violent encounters of her life, one she kept hidden from friends and family.

“I didn’t file any charges,” she admitted. “I just kept things quiet.”

At work, she continued to cover the bruises with stories that made little sense.

“A friend asked what happened, and I told her I caught a fly ball at my stepson’s baseball game,” Smith said. “You make ridiculous excuses to protect someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

The violence and manipulation spread into every part of her life.

“He became inappropriate with my mother and even came on to my best friend,” she said. “People didn’t like to see him coming, and that started to affect me because we were a package deal.”

In 2011, Smith finally left with her daughters.

But like many survivors, she returned after promises of change. “He said all the right things,” she said. “But it was the words I held on to, not the actions.”

When she left for the final time, she discovered more truths, as rape charges had been filed against him by a family friend.

“At that point, I couldn’t function anymore,” she said. “The only thing I had was my job and my daughters.”

Even her workplace became a reflection of her struggle. “He had HR complaints filed against him from my own employees,” she said. “You can imagine what that was like.”

The moment that changed everything came from her youngest daughter.

“She asked me what a very derogatory term for a woman meant,” Smith said. “That’s when I knew she was watching with both eyes wide open. They saw everything.”

Her daughters saw the fear and the pain.

“They saw me afraid. They saw me as a shell of who I was,” she said. “And I didn’t want that for them anymore.”

So, she made a decision to save herself and her children.

“Everyone knew I was a Tennessee girl,” she said. “I needed to get back home to where I could heal and feel safe again.”

She moved her daughters to a modest home in Spring Hill, Tennessee.

“We went from living in a master-planned community to a small, simple home,” Smith said. “But I’ve never been more proud of what I was able to provide.”

She compared that moment to a scene from the 1980s film St. Elmo’s Fire.

In it, a woman gives up comfort and luxury to live life on her own terms. “She stood in her torn-up kitchen with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and it was the best one she ever had,” Smith said. “That was me. I had finally taken control of my life.”

Not everything from her past was lost.

“I’m very lucky that I still have a relationship with my stepson,” she said. “He’s visited us here in Chattanooga. He’ll be 26 next year, and we still have a great relationship. You don’t always have to walk away from everything. I had to save myself, but I didn’t have to lose him.”

Smith said that realization was tied to another important lesson, one about survival and self-preservation.

“They tell you on airplanes to put the oxygen mask on yourself first,” she said. “It’s hard as a mom because your instinct is to protect your child, but I had to learn that if I wasn’t taking care of myself, I wouldn’t be any good to them.”

Her message to others is one of awareness and trust.

“They call it gut instinct for a reason,” she said. “If you have to question it, if you have to Google it, if you’re asking whether it’s a warning sign, you already know.”

Smith also encourages people to speak up when they see something wrong, especially in the workplace.

“If someone keeps showing up late, seems nervous, or jumps at loud noises, ask what’s going on,” she said. “You might just save a life. Sometimes work is the only safe space a survivor has.”

After returning home to Tennessee, Smith reconnected with a college friend from the University of Tennessee.

“I tell everyone I’ve been married before, but I’ve had one husband,” she said. “He’s repaired things he didn’t break in me and my daughters.”

Together, they now have four daughters and a blended family built on healing and love.

“If you ask either of us how many kids we have, we’ll say four,” Smith said. “Because we’re doing it together.”

Now as Vice President of Voices, Smith helps lead programs that empower survivors through the Family Justice Center.

The organization offers resume workshops, clothing for job interviews, legal aid, and emotional support for those rebuilding their lives.

“There has to be a purpose in the pain that we went through,” she said. “When you’re silent, the violence wins.”

Smith continues to share her story, so others know they are not alone.

“God gave me a voice,” she said. “As long as I have breath in these lungs, I’ll use it so that one woman out there who feels scared knows she still has hope.”

Click here to find out more about the Family Justice Center’s resources.
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or text “START” to 88788
Family Crisis Center: 1-800-572-2278 (24-hour support and resources)
Partnership for Families, Children and Adults Crisis Hotline: (423) 755-2700

Video courtesy of: Artlist and Soul Purpose Entertainment