I had an experience with Alexandra House about 6 months ago. I just noticed all their negative reviews and since I had a good experience I thought I'd share. The advocate I had was incredibly kind and helpful. She helped me through the process of getting an OFP as well as helping me get a free laywer service for the court date. I have a friend who was also helped a lot by them and I would recommend the service. I honestly would have had no clue how to navigate the legal system without them.

It's not safe here. I do not recommend coming here. I wish I never needed to come here. There is physical abuse. As well as broke ADA repeatedly. I am afraid for anyone who comes here including the children.

I rarely leave negative reviews, but my experience with the Alexander House was deeply harmful and important for other survivors to know. I reached out for help filing an HRO and was met with dismissiveness, a lack of presence, and what felt like zero trauma-informed training. When staff couldn’t locate a previous court order from 2011—a situation I’ve sadly experienced before—I became understandably triggered. Instead of acknowledging the emotional impact of that, they told me to “calm down” and implied they couldn’t work with me if I “acted that way.” My response wasn’t an “act.” It was the result of over 20 years of trauma, complex PTSD, and surviving systems that have repeatedly failed to hear or protect people like me. Rather than offering support, they tried to silence my trauma because it made them uncomfortable. Another major issue was their refusal to communicate by phone, even after I clearly stated multiple times that I have complex trauma and prefrontal cortex injury, which makes email communication extremely difficult. I asked at least four or five times for phone calls because emails overwhelm and dysregulate me. Despite that, they continued sending confusing, contradictory emails that left me spinning. The final email was so unclear that even an advocate friend with 25+ years in the field couldn’t understand why they were directing me the way they did. Trauma-informed care requires presence, compassion, accessibility, and understanding—not shame, dismissal, or forcing a communication style that harms the survivor. The most troubling part is that experiences like this aren’t rare. Too many people working in trauma-related fields lack the education, training, and emotional literacy needed to safely support survivors. When someone reaches out for help—especially during a crisis—the last thing they should encounter is confusion, judgment, or silencing. We need gatekeepers and accountability in this world—people and systems that ensure survivors are met with competence, compassion, and true trauma-informed care. Survivors deserve better.