Names and identifying details have been changed. These stories are based on real experiences shared with Waythrough Project.

Trapped

Sarah had been on the Section 8 waiting list for two years. When her name came up and she was approved for a voucher in October 2024, she found a two-bedroom apartment with her partner, whom she'd been with for seven years. The apartment was in his name; he controlled the lease and the relationship. Within months of moving in, the relationship became abusive—emotional, financial, and physical. He monitored her phone, controlled the money, and told her repeatedly that she'd never find anyone else, that she was worthless, that she should be grateful he let her stay.

By October 2025, Sarah was living in fear. She had no job (he discouraged her from working), no money (all benefits went to him), and no control over the housing. The lease was in his name. The Section 8 voucher was in his name. She had nowhere to go and no way to escape without losing housing entirely. This is the dynamic that traps many domestic violence survivors: housing insecurity becomes a tool of control.

Reaching Out

Sarah confided in a neighbor who recognized the signs of abuse. That neighbor gave her the phone number for a domestic violence hotline. When Sarah called, the advocate on the other end explained something crucial: there were legal protections for domestic violence survivors in housing, even when you don't have independent control of the lease. One of those protections is called VAWA—the Violence Against Women Act.

VAWA sounds like it's only for women, but it actually protects anyone (regardless of gender) who is a victim of domestic violence, dating violence, sexual assault, or stalking. Under VAWA, a domestic violence survivor can assert rights to public or subsidized housing independently of the abuser. A survivor can request to be added to a lease or have the lease removed from an abuser's name and put in their own name. Most importantly, a survivor can request what's called an "emergency transfer" to a different unit or a different public housing complex, specifically to flee a dangerous situation.

Emergency Transfer

The domestic violence advocate helped Sarah contact the PHA directly about an emergency transfer request. Sarah couldn't say much—her partner was home most of the time and checked her phone. But she was able to call during work hours (he wasn't monitoring those calls) and speak to the PHA's family self-sufficiency coordinator, who had specific training on VAWA emergencies.

Sarah explained that she was a victim of domestic violence and feared immediate danger. She couldn't provide detailed documentation at that moment, but she documented what she could: a photo of a bruise on her arm (texted to the DV shelter so there was a timestamp and witness), a written timeline of threats and fear, saved text messages where her partner had been controlling. The PHA didn't require perfect documentation; VAWA recognizes that victims in active danger can't always gather evidence safely.

The PHA initiated an emergency transfer process. Within 48 hours, Sarah was offered a one-bedroom unit in a different public housing complex, on the other side of town, far from where her partner knew to look. The unit was empty and available. She could move immediately. The PHA also changed the lease to her name alone, removing her partner from it entirely.

The Escape

Sarah moved with minimal belongings—some clothes, her identification, important documents she'd hidden. She didn't tell her partner until after she was safely in the new apartment. When he realized she'd left, he tried to track her down, showed up at the old address (where she wasn't), contacted the PHA trying to find her. The PHA didn't disclose her location. The lease was now in her name; he had no legal claim to the housing.

Sarah filed a police report about the abuse and got a protective order. She called the DV shelter and began working with a case manager, Rebecca, who helped her understand what had happened, process the trauma, and plan her next steps. Rebecca connected her with job training programs and helped her build a plan for independence.

Rebuilding

Six months later, Sarah is in her new apartment. The lease is in her name. The Section 8 voucher is in her name. She's working part-time at a local nonprofit while taking community college classes. Her apartment is a place of safety; she has a protective order that her landlord is aware of. She's in contact with local victim services, and her case manager checks in regularly.

There are still hard days—PTSD from the relationship, financial rebuilding, learning to trust again. But she's no longer trapped. "The emergency transfer saved my life," Sarah says simply. "I didn't know that law existed. I didn't know the PHA could help me that way. But once I knew, I could act. Housing became my way out, not my cage."

Key Takeaways

Related Resources

If you're experiencing domestic violence:

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 (24/7, confidential) or text START to 88788