04/03/2026
Today is Good Friday.
A day when we remember suffering. A day when we sit with grief that feels too heavy to carry. A day that asks us to bear witness — even when bearing witness is painful.
I can't think of a more fitting day to talk about this.
Vice Mayor Nancy Metayer Bowen was 38 years old. She was a scientist. A trailblazer. The first Black and Haitian American woman elected to the Coral Springs City Commission. She had spent her entire adult life fighting for other people — for clean water, for affordable housing, for communities that are too often forgotten. She was about to announce she was running for Congress.
She was found dead in her own home this week. Killed by her husband. The man who was supposed to love her.
Then there is Ashley Vaia — another 38 year old mother of three in Deltona — killed by her ex-husband just seven days after he was arrested for battering her. He posted a $2,000 bond and walked free. Seven days later, she was gone.
Or Mary Gingles a 34 year old, who spent over a year begging authorities to protect her. Who wrote down her fears. Who did everything she was supposed to do. Who still lost her life — along with her father and a neighbor who tried to help.
Three women. Three families shattered. Three communities that will never be the same. Young women killed in the prime of their lives
These are just the ones that have made it to the media.
Good Friday reminds us that love — real love — is sacrificial. It shows up. It protects. It does not harm the people it claims to cherish.
What happened to Nancy, Ashley, and Mary was not love. It was possession. It was control. It was violence dressed up in the language of relationship.
As a physician, I want you to know what that control can look like — before it ever becomes physical. Because abuse rarely starts with a fist. It starts quietly. And it escalates.
Red flags in a relationship:
🔴 Jealousy disguised as love — "I just love you so much I can't stand you talking to other people"
🔴 Isolating you from friends and family — slowly cutting off your support system
🔴 Controlling your money, your phone, your whereabouts
🔴 Constant criticism that chips away at your confidence and self-worth
🔴 Explosive anger over small things — especially combined with alcohol or substance use
🔴 Blaming you for their behavior — "You made me do this"
🔴 Monitoring your every move — tracking your location
🔴 Making you feel like you are walking on eggshells in your own home
🔴 Threats — to hurt you, to take your children, to hurt themselves if you leave
🔴 Pressuring or forcing you into sexual acts you are not comfortable with
If any of these feel familiar — for you or someone you love — please keep reading.
I was trained by ACOG — the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists — to ask every woman I see about intimate partner violence. At every visit. Every pregnancy. Every checkup. Because the data tells us most women will never bring it up unless someone asks. They stay quiet out of shame, out of fear, out of love, out of survival instinct. Because leaving — as counterintuitive as it sounds — is the most dangerous moment in an abusive relationship.
But ACOG also tells us something I carry with me every single day: this is preventable. Not inevitable. Not just the way things are. Preventable.
So on this Good Friday, I am asking you — not just as a doctor, but as a human being who is heartbroken and angry and refuses to look away:
Check on your people. The friend who seems a little quieter lately. The colleague whose partner always seems to speak for her. The sister who makes excuses. Ask her directly. Ask her privately. Believe her when she tells you she is afraid. Stay with her. Help her find a way out.
And if you are reading this and you are in a violent relationship. You deserve safety. You deserve peace. You deserve to be alive.
Rest in power, Nancy.
Rest in power, Ashley.
Rest in power, Mary.
💜 National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
💬 Text START to 88788
🌐 thehotline.org — free, confidential, 24/7
