Consider the movement. While it began with a hashtag, it exploded because millions of women shared their specific, local, personal stories of harassment. There was no central spokesperson giving a press conference about sexual misconduct statistics. Instead, there was a woman in New York sharing a story about an executive; a waitress in Ohio sharing a story about a customer; a teacher in Texas sharing a story about a boss.

Start by listening to one survivor today. It is the most radical act of awareness you can perform. If you or someone you know is a survivor in need of support, please contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or visit their website.

But a story—a true story, told by a survivor who has looked into the abyss and walked away—pierces that filter. It demands attention. It changes minds.

However, when an awareness campaign shifts its focus from the abstract to the intimate—from the statistic to the story—something chemical happens inside the audience. Empathy replaces pity. Action replaces apathy.

The modern era has ushered in a paradigm shift, moving from "victim" narratives to "survivor" and "thriver" narratives.

Politicians respond to the mail in their inbox and the stories on the evening news. Without survivors willing to tell their stories, these issues remain theoretical debates. It would be irresponsible to write an article about survivor stories without addressing the cost to the survivor. Telling your story over and over for a campaign can be a form of exposure therapy for some, but for others, it is a prison.

As you build your next awareness campaign, resist the urge to lead with the graph or the pie chart. Lead with the human. Find the survivor who is ready to speak, protect them with fierce vigilance, and then amplify their voice to the rooftops.

This is the holy grail of an awareness campaign. A statistic tells you that domestic violence is bad. A survivor story makes you realize it could be your sister, your colleague, or yourself. Historically, awareness campaigns (particularly regarding cancer, HIV/AIDS, and abuse) relied on fear and pity. They used images of suffering victims to elicit donations. While occasionally effective, this model had a toxic side effect: it reinforced the idea that survivors were broken, passive objects of charity.