Mom Enables Abuse

About This Website

This website serves as a formal record documenting my personal experiences and interactions with Deonne Gray. My goal is to share my story with transparency and authenticity, contributing to a broader conversation about accountability and the impact of enabling abuse.

Who This Website is For

This website is for anyone who has experienced, witnessed, or wants to understand the impact of enabling in abusive family systems. Whether you are a survivor seeking validation, a friend or family member trying to help, or an advocate looking for insight, my goal is to offer clarity, support, and connection.

What is Enabling

Enabling is not the same as helping. While healthy support empowers someone to grow and take responsibility, enabling shields them from consequences, excuses their harmful actions, and perpetuates cycles of abuse or dysfunction. In narcissistic families, enablers may act out of fear, a desire for approval, or a wish to avoid conflict, often leaving victims isolated and unsupported.

The Role of Enabling

Deonne Gray is not just Cameron Gray’s mother-she is someone who, when confronted with the harm done to me, chose to protect her son’s image and her own comfort rather than acknowledge the truth and support accountability. Instead of fostering honest dialogue or showing compassion, Deonne responded with silence, denial, and manipulation. She deflected, minimized, and cast doubt on my experiences. Every time I tried to approach the situation with empathy and care, I was met with judgment and retaliation.

The First Red Flag

Cam and I took our first weekend away together with my family one weekend. In the middle of a baseball game we were at, Cam got a call from his mom. She told him she had cancer. Not in person, not after he came home, but right then, when there was nothing he could do. I remember thinking: Who does that? Who drops news like that when it could have waited just one more day for him to be home and not out with his new girlfriend’s family?

Looking back, that was the moment I knew. Her need to be at the center of everything would shape our lives in ways I couldn’t yet imagine.

The Empty Chair: Compassion in the Face of Exclusion

Two weeks after her son physically assaulted me, Cameron was hospitalized for an emergency liver transplant. During this time, Deonne refused to share any information with me directly. She would only communicate through my mother, even as she gave updates to my coworkers and spoke badly about me to those who visited Cameron in the hospital. She refused to face me in person, sending her daughters to meet with me once, and having Cameron’s aunt meet me the time I brought birthday gifts. I was shut out, denied both information and the chance to visit him. Yes, our relationship had been toxic and yes, he had hurt me, but at the time, I still loved him, and he was dying.

Despite my own trauma, my body black and blue, my shoulder still injured, I brought him a birthday present during his hospital stay. It was an act of compassion, a gesture meant to show that even in the darkest circumstances, kindness could still exist. But instead of gratitude or understanding, I was met with hostility and more judgment. Deonne demanded that I never speak to her son again, even as he lay on his deathbed. She banned me from visiting him in the hospital and refused to communicate with me directly; all messages had to go through my mother. My attempts at goodwill became yet another reason for her to attack my character and mental health.

After I gave Cam the birthday present, Deonne kept telling my mom over text messages that I “needed to learn boundaries.” The irony wasn’t lost on me, she was the one inserting herself into every part of our lives, yet she accused me of overstepping. It was her way of controlling the narrative, making me question my own kindness, and keeping me off-balance. Looking back, I see it clearly: it wasn’t about boundaries at all. It was about power.

Before visiting, we made sure to get Deonne’s permission. My mom even reached out to ask if their family could send photos for Cam’s hospital room, so it would feel more like home. No one sent anything. So I brought what I had-photos of us, tokens of our time together. I wanted him to feel loved and remembered.

Somehow, that triggered Cam. Maybe it was seeing only our memories on display, maybe it was the weight of all that was unsaid between him and his family. But looking back, I realize: I did everything I could to include them. Their silence was a choice. The boundaries they accused me of crossing were the ones they built themselves.

It didn’t take long to see the pattern. The way Deonne texted-her accusations, her sudden bursts of anger, her need to control the story was exactly how Cam responded when things didn’t go his way. They even used the same words, the same logic, the same relentless need to be right.

At first, I thought I was dealing with two separate people. But really, I was up against a family system-a script passed down from mother to son, designed to shut down anyone who challenged them. Once I saw it for what it was, I stopped blaming myself for their reactions. Their rage wasn’t about me. It was about protecting their story.

That empty chair at Cameron’s bedside became a symbol for me: a place where compassion was offered, but refused; a space where my presence was erased, but my intention remained. The gift I left behind was not just a present-it was a testament to my willingness to care, even for those who hurt me. The words Deonne used to discredit me still echo, but I refuse to let them define my story. You can bar me from the room, but not from my truth. My compassion was never a weakness.

Deonne’s actions left me feeling isolated and invalidated, as if my pain was invisible and my voice didn’t matter. The judgment and exclusion I experienced deepened my wounds and made healing even harder. I have never had an adult treat me so horribly-especially in the aftermath of something so violent done to me by their own child.

Instead of compassion or accountability, I was met with hostility, exclusion, and judgment at every turn. Rather than acknowledging my pain or the seriousness of what happened, Deonne chose to erase my presence and attack my character. That kind of cruelty and denial from an adult, in a moment when I most needed support, is something I will never forget.

Escalation and Invasion

Even more disturbing, Deonne and her family later hired a private investigator to look into me. I only discovered this when, in deep distress after being raped, I called to find out if Cameron had truly been involved in my assault. Instead of answering me directly, Deonne made Cameron call me back-but she recorded the entire conversation without my consent and now refuses to give me a copy of the recording.

It was also Deonne who insisted Cameron file a police report against me. This is supported by the police documentation, which shows that the report was initiated at her direction. Her actions were not about seeking truth or safety, but about building a case against me and further undermining my credibility.

Without my knowledge or consent, Deonne gathered deeply personal information and used it to discredit me behind the scenes. She shared this information with her son and used it to frame me as unstable, especially when I was most vulnerable and seeking answers. She even blamed Tareen Dermatology for having and sharing this information about me-a claim that was later formally denied by the company with legal documentation.

The Broader Pattern: Enabling and Narcissistic Family Systems What happened to me is not unique. Enabling behavior-especially by parents-often occurs in families where narcissistic personality traits dominate. In these systems, the enabler (often a parent) protects the abuser, minimizes harm, and isolates the victim, all to maintain the family’s image or avoid conflict. Other Examples: • Brian and Roberta Laundrie: In the aftermath of Gabby Petito’s murder, Brian Laundrie’s mother was criticized for her silence and alleged efforts to shield her son from accountability-actions that, like Deonne Gray’s, prioritized family image over justice. • Addiction in Families: Some parents enable adult children’s substance abuse by making excuses, paying debts, or shielding them from consequences, which allows destructive behavior to continue. • Narcissistic Family Systems: One parent may enable the narcissist’s abuse by minimizing, ignoring, or even participating in the mistreatment, leaving children or partners unsupported and isolated.

Note on Attempts at Clarification Several times, I have reached out to Deonne Gray and her family seeking clarification about their involvement and knowledge regarding my rape. Despite these efforts, I have received no response or willingness to engage in honest conversation. Their continued silence has only deepened the uncertainty and pain surrounding what happened.

Why This Matters

Mothers like Deonne are how abusers stay protected. They build the shield, write the excuses, and help bury the truth-socially, emotionally, and sometimes legally. These patterns are not just personal-they are systemic, and they demand recognition and accountability.

For Survivors and Allies If you have been erased, silenced, or judged for telling your truth-know that you are not alone. Enabling and protecting abusers is never neutral; it is an act of complicity. Your pain is real. Your story matters. There is strength in speaking out, even when others try to drown out your voice.

Share Your Story If you see your experience reflected here, I invite you to share your story-anonymously if you wish. Together, we can break the silence and challenge the systems and people who enable harm.

The Broader Pattern of Enabling While my experience with Deonne Gray is deeply personal, it is not unique. The pattern of parental enabling in the face of abuse is seen in other cases as well, such as the widely publicized situation involving Brian Laundrie and his mother, Roberta Laundrie. In 2021, after the disappearance and murder of Gabby Petito, Roberta Laundrie was criticized for her lack of cooperation with law enforcement and the Petito family. Allegations that she wrote a letter offering to help Brian “bury a body” underscored the extent to which some parents will go to shield their children from accountability.

Both Roberta Laundrie and Deonne Gray responded to their sons’ actions not with compassion for the victim, but with denial, manipulation, and a focus on protecting their own family. In both cases, the mothers’ choices compounded the trauma for those harmed and obstructed the path to healing and justice.

These parallels reveal that enabling is not a neutral act; it is a form of complicity. By recognizing these patterns, we can better understand the systemic nature of this behavior and the urgent need to challenge it-both in our personal lives and as a society.

The Impact on Healing These experiences didn’t just hurt in the moment-they changed how I trust, how I seek help, and how I view myself. Being silenced and erased by someone in a position of power made me question my worth and my reality. It made reaching out for support feel dangerous and left me with wounds that went far beyond the physical.

Reclaiming My Voice Despite everything, I am still here. I am still speaking. Sharing my story is an act of reclaiming my voice and my truth. I am learning that my compassion is not a weakness, and that my pain deserves to be acknowledged. I refuse to let the actions of others define my worth or silence my experience.

To Others Who Relate If you have been erased, silenced, or judged for telling your truth-know that you are not alone. Enabling and protecting abusers is never neutral; it is an act of complicity. Your pain is real. Your story matters. There is strength in speaking out, even when others try to drown out your voice.

If you want to share your story, seek support, or simply know you are heard, I invite you to reach out. Together, we can break the silence and challenge the systems and people who enable harm.

Resources for Survivors If you are struggling with the aftermath of abuse, isolation, or being silenced, please consider reaching out to these resources: • National Domestic Violence Hotline • RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) • Crisis Text Line (Text HOME to 741741) • National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) • Local counseling and support groups-search for organizations in your area

International Human Rights and the Power of Sharing Your Story

Your Story Is a Human Right Around the world, the right to be free from abuse, to seek justice, and to speak your truth is protected under international human rights law. Documents such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) affirm that every person has the right to safety, dignity, and a voice.

Key principles include: • Article 3 (UDHR): Everyone has the right to life, liberty, and security of person. • Article 5 (UDHR): No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment. • Article 19 (UDHR): Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this includes the right to share their experiences without fear of retaliation.

The Global Problem of Silencing and Enabling Abuse Sadly, abuse and the silencing of survivors is not limited by borders. In many cultures and families, abusers are shielded by systems of denial, shame, or outright protection from those in positions of power. Enabling-whether by individuals, families, or institutions-violates the spirit of international human rights by denying victims the right to be heard, to seek justice, and to heal.

Examples from around the world: • In some countries, survivors of domestic violence face legal and social barriers to reporting abuse, with family members or community leaders discouraging them from speaking out. • In high-profile abuse scandals (such as those involving religious institutions, schools, or sports organizations), victims’ stories have often been suppressed to protect reputations, mirroring the dynamics seen in individual families.

Why Sharing Your Story Matters Telling your story is not just an act of personal courage-it is a human right and a form of resistance against the systems and people who would silence you. When you speak your truth, you: • Affirm your dignity and agency. • Help break the cycle of silence and complicity. • Empower others to come forward, creating a ripple effect of solidarity and change. • Contribute to a global movement for justice, accountability, and healing.

You Are Not Alone If you have been silenced, erased, or had your experience minimized or denied, know that you are part of a worldwide community of survivors. International human rights law is on your side, even when those closest to you are not.

How to Share Your Story If you feel safe and ready, you are invited to share your story on this website-anonymously if you wish. Your voice matters, and together, we can challenge the culture of silence and enabling that allows abuse to continue. Resources for International Support: • United Nations Human Rights Office: ohchr.org • Amnesty International: amnesty.org • Equality Now: equalitynow.org • Women’s Aid (UK): womensaid.org.uk • International Directory of Domestic Violence Agencies: hotpeachpages.net Remember:

Sharing your story is an act of reclaiming your rights and your power. No one-not a parent, partner, or institution-has the right to silence you. Let me know if you’d like this tailored to a specific country or region, or if you want to add a form or instructions for submitting stories!

Know Your Rights: Anti-SLAPP Laws and Speaking Out

What Are SLAPPs? SLAPP stands for Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation. These lawsuits are often filed not because someone expects to win, but to intimidate, silence, or punish people for speaking out about issues of public concern or for sharing their experiences. Defamation claims are a common SLAPP tactic used against survivors, advocates, journalists, and online critics.

How Anti-SLAPP Laws Protect You Anti-SLAPP laws are designed to protect your right to free speech, especially when you speak out about matters that affect the public or share your own story. These laws allow courts to quickly dismiss lawsuits that are intended to chill speech, and in many cases, require the person who filed the lawsuit to pay your legal fees if you win.

Illinois has an anti-SLAPP law called the Citizen Participation Act. It protects people who are sued for exercising their rights to speak, petition, or participate in government. If you are sued for sharing your story or speaking on a matter of public concern, you may be able to use this law to have the case dismissed quickly and recover your legal costs. However, the law is strongest when your speech relates to public issues or official proceedings, and may not always apply to purely private disputes.

Minnesota’s New Anti-SLAPP Law (2024) As of May 25, 2024, Minnesota has a strong new anti-SLAPP law called the Uniform Public Expression Protection Act (UPEPA). This law gives Minnesotans powerful tools to fight back against lawsuits meant to silence or intimidate them for exercising their free speech rights. Key features of Minnesota’s anti-SLAPP law: • Broad Protection: The law covers all speech on matters of public concern, not just statements to government officials or in official proceedings. • Quick Dismissal: If you are sued for speaking out, you can file a special motion to dismiss the case early. The lawsuit is put on hold until the court rules on your motion. • Burden on Plaintiff: The person suing you must show early on that they have a legitimate case to proceed. • Appeals: If your anti-SLAPP motion is denied, you can immediately appeal, avoiding a lengthy and expensive trial. • Attorney’s Fees: If you win, the court will order the other side to pay your legal costs and attorney’s fees. • Exclusions: The law does not cover certain claims, such as those related to bodily injury, wrongful death, some insurance and consumer protection claims, and a few others.

Disclaimer

This website reflects my personal account of events involving Deonne Gray. All statements are based on my direct lived experience and documented communications. This site is protected under the First Amendment as an expression of opinion and truth-telling regarding matters of public concern.

This site exists because the truth deserves to be public-not just for me, but for every survivor who has been manipulated, harmed, abandoned, or silenced.

If your name is on this site, it’s not to shame you. It’s to hold up a mirror. If that reflection is uncomfortable, ask yourself why.

This is not personal revenge. It’s public record. These aren’t attacks-they’re consequences. If your actions were acceptable in private, they should withstand public truth. If you’re proud of what you did, stand by it. If you’re not, that discomfort belongs to you-not me.

Survivors are done being more ashamed to speak than abusers are to harm. I’m not here to protect your image. I’m here to protect others-and myself. Every statement here is made in good faith, based on my lived experience and available evidence.

Corrections will be made if errors are identified. Speaking the truth about abuse is a human right, recognized by international law. Silencing survivors is a violation of that right.

I’m also here to lead the way for other survivors to do the same. To show that it’s not only possible to speak-but powerful. Your name can be a part of that movement, not because I said so, but because of what you did.

If you are a survivor, you are not alone. If you are an ally, stand with us for truth, justice, and reform.