In recent weeks, several high-profile domestic violence homicides have made national headlines, cases connected to public figures and, closer to home, the devastating killing of Emma Pasterczyk in Amherst and two children in Wellesley.
These stories are shocking. They capture our attention. They raise urgent questions. But they are not the full picture. Every day, across the country, there are hundreds of domestic violence incidents, lethal and nonlethal, that never make the news. They happen quietly, behind closed doors, in community. They are no less serious. No less complex. And no less deserving of our attention.
So what can we do?
In one article from The Boston Globe, friends of Emma Pasterczyk point to concerns and warning signs that, in hindsight, feel significant. And in the wake of tragedies like this, a familiar set of questions often follows:
How did this happen?
Were there signs?
Could someone have done something?
It is a natural response and these questions are important. But they can also oversimplify a much more complicated reality.
Domestic violence is rarely obvious. It is often layered with love, fear, financial dependence, family dynamics, cultural expectations, and hope that things will change. Survivors are navigating not just safety, but relationships, children, stability, and identity. Recognizing harm and feeling ready or able to act on it is not always clear or immediate. We know that support is not one-size-fits-all. Safety planning, timing, and next steps look different for everyone. What matters is creating pathways and options, not ultimatums or pressure, and reducing isolation through meaningful support.
For friends, family members, coworkers it can be just as hard to know what you’re seeing or what to do about it. In other contexts, we often hear the phrase: “If you see something, say something.” That works when people understand what they’re seeing, how to make sense of it, and where to turn for help. But when it comes to domestic violence, many people don’t feel that confidence. They worry about being wrong. About overstepping. About making things worse.
So they stay quiet. In reality, “saying something” can be as simple as: “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I care about you and I’m here to listen.” That can reduce isolation and let someone know they are not alone.
What we do at The Second Step:
At The Second Step, we support not only survivors, but also the people around them. Anyone can reach out to talk through a situation, ask questions, and explore options without pressure, without judgment, and without needing to have all the details. Even an anonymous conversation can help you think through what to say, how to say it, and how to prioritize safety.
Our Prevention Education programs are a critical part of this work. They help individuals, workplaces, and communities better understand the dynamics of abuse, recognize patterns that may not be obvious, and respond in ways that are informed, thoughtful, and grounded in safety. Domestic violence thrives in silence and uncertainty. But awareness paired with tools, language, and support can change that.
Together we can build communities where:
- People feel more confident trusting their instincts
- Conversations about relationships and safety are normalized
- And no one has to wonder alone whether something is wrong
If something feels off to you or to someone you care about, trust your instincts and start the conversation. You don’t have to be certain. You don’t have to have proof. We are here to help.