Too often, survivors remain in harmful situations because they’ve been led to believe that entering a shelter means sacrificing comfort, dignity, or stability. I often fear the thought of survivors not coming into shelter because of the misconceptions that the general public has about shelter living. We too often see the horror stories about shelter living. When people hear the word “shelter”, they might picture something temporary, cold, chaotic and unwelcoming. They may picture rows of cots in one large room and constant chaos. I am writing this Op-Ed with one goal: help any victim see that going into shelter doesn’t have to be scary or a step backwards.
Every day, brave survivors and their children walk through our doors, often with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They come carrying fear, trauma, and sometimes children who don’t understand why they’ve had to leave everything behind. But very soon, through warmth, safety, and support those same individuals begin to reclaim their power and their peace.
At Roberta’s Place, “shelter” means meals around a family-style table. It means kids drawing with sidewalk chalk on the pavement out front or picking out a favorite stuffed animal from our donation shelves. It means safety plans, support groups, court advocacy, and moments of quiet where healing starts. It means our staff knowing every child by name, what snack they like after school, and what bedtime story soothes them. It means staff coloring on the floor with children or helping mom cook dinner. It means standing up for survivors and advocating for the victim. It means standing strong for the victim when they need a shoulder to cry on and create goals with. It means a truck full of Roberta’s Place Advocates moving a survivor into their own housing for the first time, hanging curtains and struggling to carry in a donated couch.
There’s a myth that survivors 'just leave' and move on. The truth is, healing isn’t linear. It takes time to undo the damage that abuse has caused. Many are working full-time jobs, applying for housing, advocating for their children in school, going back to school their selves, all while managing the deep wounds of trauma. Mornings at Roberta’s Place are often busy with people getting ready for school, work, interviews and a busy scheduled day.
Shelter life can be loud and tender and messy and beautiful. It is full of hard conversations and shared tears, but also full of laughter, triumphs, and second chances.
We invite the community to see our shelter not just as a place of emergency, but as a place of hope. Survivors don’t need pity. They need dignity, opportunity, and compassion. They need safe spaces that feel like home, even if just for a while. More often than not, the survivors and their children shed tears when leaving shelter to live independently after they secure their own housing. Not because they are scared of what is to come but because they have come to find our shelter home.
At Roberta’s Place, that’s exactly what we work to provide. To any survivor reading this I want you to know: the shelter doesn’t have to be a scary place. At Roberta’s Place, we work hard to create a safe, warm, and welcoming environment that feels like a home, not just a temporary escape. You deserve safety, dignity, and support. If you need help, please don’t wait. Reach out to our 24/7 crisis line 505-287-7724. We’re here for you, always.