Olga’s story of survival: "Three minutes and thirty seconds made the difference between being hit or left alone"

If this story had been written three years ago, it would have been published anonymously. The abuse was too intense, and the fear too overwhelming for her to speak up. Today, however, this story has a subject and a predicate. It has a name, and her name is Olga Goncear—a woman who found the strength and courage within herself to break free from abuse, piece herself back together and become a source of support for other women who, like her not so long ago, suffer in silence.

"I want to embrace all the women in the world who, at this moment, are living in fear of their partners and give them courage and confidence in themselves,” Olga says. “They need so much to be seen, heard and encouraged to escape."

Today, Olga is well. She lives peacefully and happily with her children, far from the man who made her life unbearable for ten years. But her life wasn’t always this way.

Her story began like a dream. She met her future husband one evening at a restaurant in Chișinău. It was a spontaneous meeting. She remembers his intense gaze, which seemed filled with emotion—something she hadn’t encountered before. "He was attentive and kind and made me feel important,” she says.

At first, he seemed to be everything she had ever wanted—a decisive man who offered her support and affection.

"He never let me out of his sight. He created a space where I could only focus on him. He gave me so much attention, so much care, that at some point, I was sure this man couldn’t live without me,” she explains. “Flowers, walks, restaurants—and oh, how beautifully he spoke! In those first months, I could never have imagined that things would take such a terrible turn."

The first signs that something was wrong appeared quickly, but she chose to ignore them, interpreting them as acts of care. "One day in the park, he got into an argument with a stranger just because the man looked at me for a moment too long,” she says. “I thought he cared about me, that he wanted to protect me."

As the relationship progressed, Olga’s husband’s control over her intensified.

"After I got pregnant, he changed radically. Instead of joy, I was met with constant criticism: ‘You’re fat, you’re no longer attractive.’ Slowly, the insults began, then the shoving. Everything became a reason for reproach—food, clothes, the bathroom,” she explains. “He called me a ‘pig,’ ‘cursed,’ ‘disgusting’—words that killed me inside, words that made me feel guilty for my transformation. I came to hate myself. I avoided looking in the mirror because I didn’t want to see what I had become—a rag, just as he called me."

Bit by bit, Olga felt the abuse eroding her confidence and sense of self-worth.

"I doubted myself every day. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I became a shadow, a person afraid to express her thoughts for fear of upsetting him. I did everything he wanted,” she says. “He monitored my every move. When I went to buy bread, he would stand on the balcony and time me—he told me I had to be back in three and a half minutes. I could see him from the shop door, standing on the balcony, watching me, and I knew that if I were late, he would hit me. With each compromise, I felt farther from who I was. I became just a shadow, doing everything he demanded, sinking deeper into a bottomless pit, unable to find my way back to myself."

Despite years of silence and suffering, Olga recalls how difficult it was to talk about the abuse she endured.

"I told everyone that everything was fine, that he spoiled me. But at night, I cried into my pillow and asked myself: Why, God, don’t you give me the courage to tell the truth?” she"I started looking for help online, searching for centers that support mothers and children,” she explains. I read stories of other women and understood that there were places where I could receive help." says. “And I withdrew into myself, thinking it was my fault. I chose this man; I must carry this cross."

When she visited her family, they began noticing changes.

"My sister, who is a psychologist, tried to talk to me. She asked questions, but I refused to answer,” Olga says. “I said everything was fine. I was scared. I felt that if I started talking, I wouldn’t be able to stop crying out for help. I felt guilty for disappointing them."

Everything changed one day after a violent episode that left a deep mark on her memory.

"He beat me so badly, he disfigured me,” she says. “I felt like a punching bag. In a moment of clarity, I crawled into the children’s room, pulled them close and locked the door. He tried to break the door down, shouting that he was going to kill me. I told him that if he came in, I would call the police. That stopped him."

That was the moment she realized she had to escape the nightmare. She found support at a center for domestic violence victims, marking the beginning of a new life.

That was the moment she realized she had to escape the nightmare. She found support at a center for domestic violence victims, marking the beginning of a new life.

Ultimately, her motherSupport from her community and organizations has given her the strength to move forward. and sisters gave her the confidence to make the final decision.

"Without my sisters, I wouldn’t have had the strength to leave. For the first time, I felt that someone saw me, someone understood what I was going through,” she says. “For the first time, I felt I had a chance to live without fear, to find my peace and dignity."

Now, Olga is working to rebuild her life and rediscover the identity she lost during the years of abuse.

"Slowly, I’m regaining my confidence,” she says. “It’s a tough journey, but each step brings me closer to who I truly am."

, marking the beginning of a new life.

 

Ultimately, her mother

This year, thanks to a programme supported by UN Women Moldova and funded by the Government of Sweden, Olga participated in a Hâncești-based personal development and economic empowerment course, which also provided vouchers to support her professional path. With the help of the Women’s Law Center and inspired by a long-held passion for traditional crafts, Olga began sewing traditional blouses and embroidery. She obtained a sewing machine, allowing her to earn extra income while working from home. Additionally, she works at a local folk arts center, where her talent is appreciated. For women with children like her, engaging in practical, time-efficient activities is essential for gaining financial independence.

Now, she shares her experience with other beneficiaries of the center, offering them hope and helping them transition from a life marked by abuse to one of independence and freedom.

"I’ve learned that I deserve respect and that I’m stronger than I ever imagined,” she says. “If you see yourself in my story, know you are not alone. There are people who want to help you, who understand your pain and who want to offer the support you need. You don’t have to fight alone. Every woman deserves a life of dignity, free from fear."

Olga’s story is a call for solidarity, urging society to open its eyes and hearts to the women living in silence and suffering. Her message to the world is clear: "Do you see me? Ask for help for me."

If you know someone who is suffering, encourage them to seek help. In situations of severe risk, report it to the authorities by calling 112 or call the Trustline for Women and Girls at 0 8008 8008.

This article was created for the campaign "Do you see me? Believe me. Stand by me," an initiative raising awareness about violence against women. It is part of the annual 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence campaign, implemented by UN Women Moldova in partnership with the Government of the Republic of Moldova and the National Agency for Preventing and Combating Violence Against Women and Domestic Violence, with financial support from the European Union and the Governments of Sweden and Denmark.