Paula Barton

I Did It — Fundraiser Walk Completed!

Today I crossed the finish line of my fundraiser

walk, and I’m feeling equal parts proud, relieved, and incredibly grateful. What started as a simple idea — walk the kilometres, raise awareness, support survivors of domestic violence — quickly became something much bigger.

This walk pushed me physically and emotionally. There were days my body protested, days I doubted myself, and days where life’s challenges made it hard to stay focused. But every step reminded me why I was doing this: for the people who don’t get to choose their battles, for the survivors fighting every single day, and for the hope that things can change.

To everyone who donated, shared the fundraiser, sent messages, or simply cheered me on — thank you. Your support helped turn kilometres into impact. Together, we’ve raised vital funds that will directly help survivors access support, safety, and healing.

Completing this walk isn’t just a personal milestone. It’s a reminder that collective action matters. When we show up for one another, even in small ways, real change happens.

Here’s to strength, community, and continuing the fight for a safer future. 💛

Fundraiser walk completed — and we did it together.

Keeping it real

6km Down… Even With the Flu! 

The last three days have been rough — fighting off the flu, exhausted, and absolutely not feeling my best. But this cause means too much to stop. So, step by step, I pushed through and clocked 6km despite feeling unwell.

Every kilometre is a reminder of why I’m doing this: to support DV survivors, raise awareness, and show that even when things get tough, we keep going — together.

Your support has kept me moving, even on the hardest days. Please keep your donations coming. Every dollar makes a real difference, and together we can smash this goal and create change that matters.

Let’s nail this — for every survivor, for every story, and for a safer future. 💜

Donate today and walk this journey with me.

Finding My Voice After Domestic Violence

For years, I lived in a home overshadowed by my ex-husband’s heavy drinking, the violence that came with it, and the quiet, constant erosion of my confidence. Coercive control can start so subtly that you don’t realise you’re shrinking until you barely recognise yourself. The power imbalance became my normal, and eventually even the smallest things felt like they required an apology.

I remember saying “sorry” at work over the tiniest mistakes—almost instinctively. It took time to understand that this habit came from home, where nothing I did was ever good enough, where every day felt like walking on shattered glass. The shame was crushing. I was a sergeant in the Army, responsible for others, trained to lead, and yet I couldn’t stop what was happening behind closed doors.

But rank doesn’t shield you from harm, and strength doesn’t mean silence. Charging my ex-husband with assault was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made—and one of the bravest. It was the first step toward reclaiming my life, my voice, and my sense of worth.

Today, I share my lived experience not for sympathy, but to shed light on the realities of domestic and intimate partner violence. If my story reaches even one person who feels trapped, ashamed, or unsure of their next step, then speaking up is worth it. 

Healing is not linear, but it is possible—and no one should ever feel like they have to apologise for seeking safety, dignity, and peace.