This story contains sensitive content, including references to domestic abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

JOINT BASE LANGLEY-EUSTIS, Va. – Pulse pounding, Karen Coreas threw her car into park. She stepped outside and hurried towards the building. As she gripped the door handle, she knew this was it—her last chance at freedom. Taking a steady breath, she stepped into the U.S. Air Force recruiter’s office, instantly locking eyes with the sergeant behind the desk.

“Sir, I want to make a deal with you,” she said firmly. “If you can get me away from my abusive relationship so my kids and I can have a good life, I’ll join.”

The sergeant blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then he nodded. “That’s an odd request, but I’ll help you.”

This moment marked the beginning of Coreas’s escape—from seven years of abuse and homelessness to finding a home in the United States Air Force.

Coreas was a single mother when she met the man who would become her nightmare. After two weeks of dating, she tried to leave. He refused. Threats turned into control and control became years of fear.

“I tried everything to escape,” said Coreas. “I moved around, sought legal advice, had four protective orders, but he always found a way to avoid all of them.”

As a young woman in her twenties, Coreas said she felt hopeless. Anytime she sought refuge with her family, he threatened to harm those closest to her. She was isolated and struggled to form a community. In a night of desperation, she confided in her younger brother, and together they devised a plan for Coreas to join the police force.

“If I couldn’t escape this situation, maybe becoming the law would protect me,” she reasoned.

Daring to hope, she took the entrance exam for the academy. When she returned home, her moment of light vanished when her abuser found a packed bag in her bedroom and attacked her in rage.

“I was hospitalized for five days from the abuse,” she said and her motivation to join the police force was destroyed.

Seeing her in a hospital bed, her brother knew something had to be done. “Join the military,” he urged. “They can protect you.”

“Oh, I can’t! That’s not for me,” Coreas responded, but the idea took root.

When she was discharged from the hospital and returned home, relief flooded her at the sight of an empty house. She retrieved her three children from her mother’s home and experienced an unexpected moment that cemented her decision.

Her oldest son looked up at her with sad eyes. “Mom, you never smile,” he said innocently. “I wish you would smile. I want to see you happy again.”

Coreas’ heart broke. Not long after, she found herself sitting in the Air Force’s recruiting office.

With the help of her recruiter and careful planning, she managed to keep her plan to enlist a secret for over a year. Securing the necessary waivers and finding a family-friendly job within the military demanded careful planning and patience. Her recruiter provided unwavering support and guidance throughout the process. To maintain secrecy, Coreas used her regular volunteer shifts at the local food bank as cover for any military-related appointments or meetings. It was a delicate balancing act, but her determination never wavered.

Little did Coreas know, keeping her enlistment a secret wasn’t going to be the biggest obstacle she had to overcome to enlist. To keep custody of all three of her children, Coreas faced an unthinkable choice: either remain single and risk losing them or marry her abuser so they would be considered her dependents.

“I chose to marry my greatest enemy,” Coreas said.

The day she left, her husband unknowingly drove her to the Military Entrance Processing Station. She turned to him, smiling for the first time in years.

“I joined the military,” she said. “I’ll be back soon.”

It was a lie. That was her goodbye.

Every night during basic military training, Coreas cried herself to sleep from how much she missed her children.

“While I was in basic, my husband found my kids at my home,” she said. “My mom lived with me at the time and was taking care of them, but he kicked her out and left her homeless.”

Coreas explained how she had to pretend over phone calls and letters that she would come back. He would threaten, ‘I can do anything’ on several phone calls.

This scared Coreas, but she remained strong. Anytime she wanted to quit, she clung to a promise she had made to her children: we wouldn’t live like this forever.

That promise to save her kids carried her through to basic military training graduation.

During technical school, she finally filed for divorce. Enraged, her ex-husband destroyed their home and left the children unattended for a week. Thankfully, a close friend of Coreas’ discovered what was going on and called child protective services. CPS was able to intervene, and he was charged with neglect. Coreas’ military training leaders at technical school helped her make arrangements to fly home right away.

“When I arrived, everything was broken,” she said. “My youngest nearly died. He was later diagnosed with type 1 diabetes from the neglect.”

Despite the hardship, Coreas graduated as a communications specialist and was stationed at Joint Base Langley-Eustis. With her newfound freedom came the weight of rebuilding her life.

The first six months in Virginia proved to be a difficult transition for Coreas. Prior debts created a financial burden, and she found herself couch surfing with her three kids. She found solace volunteering at the United Service Organizations and the base’s Airman’s Attic. After work, she spent countless hours there, giving back to others.

Securing a new home in military housing marked a turning point for her and her family. The first night, she opened the door to their new, empty space filled by only two plastic totes holding all their belongings. Then, the doorbell rang.

A woman appeared at her door and explained how she was moved by Coreas’ story and had reached out to other volunteers to surprise Coreas with help. Over the next three days, Coreas watched in shock as USO and Airman’s Attic volunteers appeared at her door to gift furniture and children’s clothes. By the end of it, her house was fully furnished.

That third night, she cooked dinner for her children. A full spread of food was laid out on her family’s dinner table. Coreas looked happily at the three smiling faces, laughter echoing in their new space. Peace, for the first time in what felt like forever, settled over them.

Overcome with emotion, Coreas broke down in tears.

“Mom, why are you crying?” they asked.

“They’re happy tears,” she responded, smiling.

One by one, her children joined her, crying happy tears of their own as they embraced their mother.

“I was so used to being ignored and facing everything alone,” Coreas said. “That moment, I knew—I had kept my promise. My kids were safe. They were happy.”

Her life now stabilized, Coreas pours herself into community service, dedicating over 1,000 hours to date to volunteer work in the Hampton Roads region. Coreas states, she takes pride in being the best she can be and every day she tries to be a better version of herself. It’s her service as an Airman and work as a volunteer that has created a new community for her family.

“Karen’s impact (as a volunteer) was felt immediately as she connected with other junior enlisted customers in need of support,” stated Brian Saunders, Airman’s Attack lead manager. “Communication and organizational skills are just a few of Karen’s standout qualities. This year, she volunteered for 89 hours, helping us provide services to 3,990 junior enlisted members.”

Her hard work and selfless service contributed to her being awarded Airman of the Quarter and Volunteer of the Quarter. For Senior Airman Coreas, it’s never been about awards, but about uplifting those around her and being a positive example for her kids.

“The military was originally my escape plan, but now, I want to serve for 20 years,” she said. “The Air Force has become a place for me to thrive, and I’m thankful I can wear this uniform with pride.”