One woman's story

I entered Clydebank Women's Aid when I was 15 years and 6 months. Still in Secondary School, but moving towards work. My whole life had been dominated by domestic violence. Not that my Dad hit me or my brother, but we had to watch as he beat my mother and live in a home that was constantly on alert.

I remember standing at the living room window, with my Mum, waiting for him to walk down the street, We would try to gauge his mood from a distance and whether I would need to take my brother to his room to avoid more trauma.

Going into Clydebank Women's Aid was like breathing out in relief. I felt at last I was somewhere that, as a collective, everyone had a say on how the refuge ran. Even me! As a young woman, leaving a household dominated by one person, it felt miraculous. You do not need one person to dictate any area of life. It was a political awakening.

The staff were amazing. Not only did they support me at that crisis point, but they also prepared me for the challenges ahead. You don't live with domestic violence for over a decade at come out unscathed. They helped us understand our responses to the trauma and to overcome these. In short they saved my life.

What does the loss of Clydebank Women's Aid mean to me? It terrifies me that women and girls of Clydebank have nowhere to run. If they do go outside their area, this causes families more disruption. Children have to change schools, families loss support from their immediate network, women are isolated often trying to support traumatised children.

My biggest fear however is the message the loss of Clydebank Women's Aid gives. Women and children are being told their pain and trauma do not matter and abusers are being told no-one cares so carry on with anything they want to do.