In my work, I support people facing high-conflict divorces or recovering from emotional abuse—people who are often just starting to put words to what they’ve endured. For many, it’s not only about healing but also figuring out how to communicate their experience in a way that family courts will understand. A big part of this is helping them articulate what coercive control looks like, feels like, and why it matters. Coercive control is one of those invisible dynamics that family law hasn’t fully grasped yet. Unlike physical abuse, it doesn’t have an established legal precedent, which leaves a huge gap in understanding for courts.
One of the biggest obstacles here is that most lawyers aren’t trained to recognize coercive control. They’re often focused on “visible” forms of abuse, like physical harm, while tactics like gaslighting, isolation, or relentless manipulation fall outside the traditional legal framework. And without precedent, a lot of lawyers are reluctant to raise coercive control in court—they worry it won’t carry weight or, worse, that it’ll get dismissed as too subjective, too “emotional.”
That’s where I come in. I take an investigative approach to each case, working with clients to go through every message, email, or text exchange, identifying patterns that reveal a thread of control. This isn’t just about finding a few specific instances. It’s about uncovering a sustained pattern of behavior that has impacted every corner of their lives. Coercive control doesn’t jump out in one or two events—it’s the cumulative weight of each subtle jab, each “innocent” message, each gaslighting moment that adds up. My role is to make that pattern visible, connecting the small, often-overlooked incidents into a narrative that speaks to the full picture of what’s really happening.
I also guide clients in recognizing abusive behaviors they might otherwise overlook. Trauma and self-doubt can cloud their judgment, making it hard to see the harmful dynamics they’re caught in, especially when they’re still emotionally raw. I want them to step back and see it clearly—not just to understand it themselves but to articulate it effectively. Once we’ve put together this picture of coercive control, I help them present it in a way their attorney can use. Lawyers need clear, concrete evidence, and I assist clients in pulling together that evidence into a cohesive narrative. It’s the kind of clarity that attorneys can use to argue for protective boundaries around things like custody, visitation, or communication—terms that are often crucial to the client’s well-being.
In recent months, I’ve seen a surge in people needing this kind of support. While it’s tough to see so many people suffering under these dynamics, it’s also incredibly meaningful work. Trauma, especially when it’s covert and psychological, can leave someone doubting their own experience. I know that feeling firsthand. It’s hard to even begin explaining this type of abuse to people who haven’t lived it. That’s why having someone to help connect the dots and reveal the impact of these patterns can make all the difference.
Ultimately, my goal is to help clients—and the legal professionals who represent them—bring coercive control to light in a way that courts can no longer ignore. The more attorneys understand the effects of this kind of abuse, the more they’ll be able to advocate for their clients in court. As these cases build, I believe the legal system will be forced to start recognizing coercive control as a real, prosecutable form of abuse. That’s the impact I’m working toward: a future where survivors feel seen and where family court decisions genuinely protect their well-being.