The night María left, she didn’t pack a suitcase — she packed a charger.

When a man controls your paycheck, your keys, your passwords and your location, electricity is freedom.

In Santa Barbara alone, California Department of Justice data show that police responded to 389 domestic violence calls in 2023.

Advocates say the true number is much higher. National crime surveys consistently find that only about half of domestic violence incidents are ever reported to law enforcement.

Domestic violence is not just bruises. Feminist scholars call it coercive control — a system of domination that uses fear, isolation and financial capture to trap women in place.

A partner might drain bank accounts, sabotage birth control or track a victim through a child’s tablet or cell phone.

Increasingly, local advocates report cases of economic abuse, reproductive coercion and technology-facilitated stalking alongside physical assaults.

These patterns explain why many survivors appear inconsistent to outsiders — sometimes returning to their abuser, sometimes avoiding court.

In reality, they are negotiating survival inside a system designed to trap them.

From Home to Homelessness

When survivors flee, many end up on the street.

A 2024 major study by UC San Francisco researchers found that 17% of women had experienced intimate partner violence in the six months before becoming homeless.

Among those, 40% said the abuse was a reason they lost housing, and one in five called it the primary reason.

Most spent nights unsheltered, and nearly half said there was a time they wanted a domestic violence shelter but couldn’t access one.

Santa Barbara County’s most recent Point-in-Time Count identified 2,119 people living without homes in 2024, a 12% increase from the year before.

Many of them are women who lost housing because of abuse. The numbers show what local advocates see every day: the line between violence at home and violence on the street is razor thin.

First Responders You Don’t See

Santa Barbara is fortunate to have Domestic Violence Solutions, the county’s 24/7 hotline and shelter provider.

In 2023, DVS answered nearly 4,000 crisis calls, sheltered 156 adults and 145 children, and provided 6,898 safe nights of housing.

Its Housing First program moves survivors into permanent homes. Through the Domestic Violence Emergency Response Team (DVERT), law enforcement officers can call on DVS advocates any time, day or night, to meet survivors at the scene or wherever they are needed to ensure safety and support.

They gave me my life back. But it shouldn’t take losing everything to get that chance.” KEISHA

These workers are often the first steady hand survivors encounter — meeting them in hospital rooms at 3 a.m., helping with restraining orders, finding safe places to sleep when every bed is full.

They are underpaid and overextended, but their labor saves lives.

Courts and Barriers

For those who seek legal protection, the courtroom can be both lifeline and gauntlet. Restraining orders and custody decisions can mean safety — or new risks.

Some judges and police are learning to recognize coercive control, but too many still frame it as “just a family conflict.”

Feminist research makes clear that what experts call intimate terrorism is fundamentally different from occasional couple conflict, and far more dangerous.

There are protections on paper. Under the national Violence Against Women Act, tenants in federally subsidized housing cannot be evicted or denied admission because of domestic violence.

Survivors can request emergency transfers and confidentiality. But protections mean little in a county where rents are sky high and affordable apartments are scarce.

Voices and Survival

Keisha, a mother of two, spent a week living in her car after her abuser sabotaged her bank account and tracked her location.

Only after a DVS advocate intervened did she secure a shelter bed and eventually move into permanent housing.

“They gave me my life back,” she said. “But it shouldn’t take losing everything to get that chance.”

The UCSF study echoes her story: 73% of women said a small monthly rental subsidy would have kept them housed for two years; 92% said a housing voucher would have prevented their homelessness entirely.

Survivors know what works. We just fail to provide it.

Feminist Response

Domestic violence is not a private failing. It is a public crisis, a driver of homelessness and a profound violation of women’s rights.

To face it honestly, we must widen our lens: beyond bruises, beyond 9-1-1 calls, into the economic and technological structures that trap women.

And we must honor the women who survive — and the women who help them survive. They are not broken. They are battle-tested. They are our neighbors. They are us.

If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, call Domestic Violence Solutions at 805.964.5245 or the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1.800.799.7233.

Help is available, even when the house isn’t safe.

Wayne Martin Mellinger Ph.D. is a sociologist, writer and homeless outreach worker in Santa Barbara. A former college professor and lifelong advocate for social justice, he serves on boards dedicated to housing equity and human dignity. The opinions expressed are his own.