Founders Story

Welcome to the Emberline Initiative,

In this first post, I will share a bit about my story. Every blog post following will be another SURVIVOR’S story, wherever you are in your healing journey, your voice matters! The more we break our silence, the more we demonstrate that Emberline isn’t just a name- it’s a movement forged in fire and defined by endurance.

With that said, my name is Allie Young, and this is my story:

The Emberline Initiative – Founder’s Story

The Emberline Initiative was born out of survival. Not theory, not research — but lived experience. An experience that nothing could have prepared me for the reality of surviving a high-conflict divorce marked by domestic violence.

For twelve years, I built a career in the medical device and pharmaceutical industries, working with companies dedicated to solving unmet needs in healthcare. I poured everything into it — my energy, my intellect, my heart. I was proud of what I built and the independence it gave me. But when I married, that independence slowly became a target.

My husband encouraged me to step away from the career I had built to join him in the roofing industry. At first, it felt like a new challenge — I moved into sales and marketing, eager to learn. But after a devastating tornado hit Idabel, Oklahoma, I found myself on the ground, working directly with families to rebuild. I learned every facet of insurance claims and construction — I worked hard, I helped people, and I thought we were building something meaningful together.

But my divorce revealed a darker truth. Everything — my business, my savings, my identity — had been positioned for one outcome: control.

After a nine-month DHS case, established when my husband tried to strangle me in front of my 1 and 2-year-old sons, I finally left. That incident was just one event of many I had experienced during my 6.5-year marriage. I was raped, kicked in the stomach, fingers broken, black eyes, concussions, many attempts at strangulation, while he said “you’re done, you’re done, you’re done.”, bloodied and bruised knees, and much more. The most devastating abuse came through emotional, physical, and mental neglect. My husband made sure I knew that my looks and the money I brought in were all he cared about. Otherwise, he was indifferent to whether I was dead or alive.

So when I finally made that call to 911, I thought the system would protect me and my children. They didn’t. They manipulated me, told me I wasn’t being a protective parent, and threatened to take my children away for posting his bail while I was between jobs. I remained separated from him, but their involvement forced me to return home. “They wanted to see that we could parent together.” That trauma bonded us just long enough for my husband and his attorney to convince me to fall on the sword. I had just learned of my husband’s 4 years of infidelity involving 38 women. "Nothing is a better defense than a scorned & jealous wife.” My husband became this attentive and loving man just long enough for me to agree that I didn’t want charges pressed.

Our 9-month DHS case concluded because I agreed to separate from my husband physically. It took 5 days before my husband broke our safety plan. I fled the home with only my sons and my truck, stripped of my savings, assets, and access to two companies I helped build. I was left with crushing personal and business debt. It felt like identity theft — not just of my finances, but of my life.

Despite all of that, I went back to Idabel. I got my roofing license and finished the work my husband abandoned, helping families rebuild their homes and their hope. It was my way of reclaiming something that was stolen from me.

My divorce was anything but fair. At a temporary order hearing, my attorney failed to represent me, and in a single ruling, my husband was granted 50/50 custody, despite DHS’s dismissal of his custody, full control of the marital estate, and I was denied child support or alimony. Even worse, the court ruled that everything before that day was now “inadmissible.” My entire life was erased in a 20-minute hearing & every bit of abuse that I and my children endured was rendered irrelevant to my own divorce. I was given the challenge of providing only new evidence of abuse if I wanted it considered in his rulings. Two and a half years later, I am still standing at the same place legally — but I am no longer silent.

I have begged for help from law enforcement as my husband continues to harm and manipulate other women. He has found a cruel enjoyment in using the court as his shiny new torture tool. And though my voice has not yet been heard in court, I have found another way to use it.

The Emberline Initiative is that voice. It is the fire born from injustice — a movement to forge new pathways for women who have been re-victimized by the very systems meant to protect them. It exists for those who have lost everything — their homes, their children, their sense of safety — and still refuse to give up.

Through Emberline, I advocate for trauma-informed practices in family law, challenge train professionals to recognize patterns of coercive control, and empower survivors to protect their voice and their peace. My goal is to bring light into some of the darkest corners of this process — to help people rebuild not just their lives, but their sense of self.

I will not stop. I will not be quiet. I will fight for reform, for accountability, and for every survivor who deserves a different reality. What I can control now is how I use the fire inside me — and I choose to turn it into light.

The name Emberline reflects that belief. It’s what remains when everything else has burned away: the ember of truth, courage, and resilience that can, with care, reignite into something stronger. I created Emberline to honor that ember — in myself, and in every survivor who’s still standing in the ashes, ready to begin again.

So, together we will rise. We will be heard. We will rebuild.