The US is Dangerous for Women: Can We Live Safely as Mothers, Wives, and Business Professionals in a Man's World?

by Joanne Morin Correia

The USA is Dangerous for Women by Joanne Morin Correia explores the many dangers women face in America, from domestic violence and sexual assault to workplace harassment and a culture of fear. Drawing on her experience in self-defense and safety training, Correia combines personal stories with thorough research to reveal the systemic issues behind women's vulnerability.

Filled with real-life examples and practical advice, the book provides tools for psychological and physical self-defense, emphasizing situational awareness and proactive, personal safety strategies. Correia also examines how the media, laws, and social norms perpetuate violence against women, advocating for systemic change and justice.



More than a personal safety guide, this book is a call to action for anyone concerned with changing the escalating, deep-rooted issues endangering the lives of every woman living in the US.

183 pages, Kindle Edition

Published July 11, 2025

Reviews

[Jane Butler · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve spent over thirty years patching up women who came into the ER bruised, terrified, and apologizing for “causing trouble.”
Reading Joanne’s book felt like finally hearing someone put words to what I’ve witnessed my whole career.
Her story about being raped after trusting a “friend” hit me hardest, because I’ve seen that exact look in women’s eyes when they whisper, “I thought I was safe.”
I appreciated how she connected her personal pain to the broken systems behind it from underfunded shelters to the politics that keep women’s bodies up for debate.
What I took away was more than sorrow; it was solidarity. Joanne reminds us that healing starts with truth, and safety must be fought for, not begged for.
I kept nodding through tears, because this book tells the truth every nurse already knows: women deserve better care, in every sense of the word.

[Christine Halvorson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ll be honest, I picked up this book expecting politics. What I found was humanity.
In my twenty-five years on the force, I saw countless cases of domestic violence that never made it past the report stage. Joanne explains why fear, isolation, shame, systems too slow to protect.
The part about rural women hit home. I worked small towns; she’s right they’re often the most dangerous places because everyone knows everyone, and no one wants to “cause trouble.”
Reading her personal story, and her daughter’s tore at me. It reminded me of victims whose faces I still remember but whose voices were drowned out.
Joanne doesn’t attack; she educates.
Her blend of statistics and lived truth made me reflect on what policing missed, and what men like me can still do to fix it.
If more officers read this, fewer women would die waiting for help.

[Eugene Davis · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve spent my life telling young women to dream big, to believe they can be anything, but this book reminded me how much harder we make it for them to simply be safe.
Joanne’s honesty took me right back to my own college days, the “don’t drink too much,” “don’t walk alone,” “don’t make him angry” warnings we still hand down like family heirlooms.
The chapter on the media made me furious: I could see exactly how TV, movies, and even news programs have taught generations of girls to accept fear as normal.
When Joanne wrote about her daughter being drugged on a cruise, I had to close the book and hug mine.
I finished it shaken but grateful because she’s not just telling horror stories; she’s giving us tools.
If you’re a mother, this book will break your heart and then give you the courage to start talking to your daughters differently.

[Leonard Douglas · Rating 5 out of 5]

I came to this book as a skeptic. Twenty-five years on the force makes you think you’ve seen it all. Turns out, I hadn’t seen nearly enough. Joanne lays out, in plain language, how the system I once served fails women the endless paperwork, the disbelief, the “domestic disputes” we brushed off because we were trained to see them as private. Her statistics line up with my memories, but her stories gave them faces. The one about her daughter being drugged on a cruise? That shook me. I imagined my own girls. I admired her balance, she doesn’t paint all men as villains; she asks them to show up differently. To protect, listen, and believe. This book made me uncomfortable, then ashamed, then determined. I can’t change the cases I mishandled, but I can speak to younger officers and tell them: read this. Understand what’s really at stake when you decide whether to believe a woman.

[Brigitte Kirsch · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve spent over thirty years in emergency rooms watching women whisper apologies for being hurt.
Reading Joanne Morin Correia’s book felt like hearing one of us finally shout the truth I’ve only seen in bruises. When she wrote about being drugged and still having to walk herself back to safety, I saw every patient who’s ever said, “I thought I was safe.” What stunned me most was how she ties those private horrors to public failures funding cuts, Title IX rollbacks, and politics that treat women’s bodies like debate topics. I closed the last page both furious and grateful. Furious that so little has changed. Grateful that someone with her courage and experience is still teaching self-defense, still fighting for awareness. I bought five more copies for the younger nurses on my shift. They need to know the history of what we’re still battling.

[Alaric Whitmore · Rating 5 out of 5]

Joanne’s opening chapter wrecked me. Her friend Stephen, her silence, her own assault, I had to stop reading and breathe. I was that quiet girl who thought if I didn’t talk about what happened, it would disappear. Decades later, I teach girls who think the same. The sections on rural isolation and cultural silence hit like a mirror. Small towns can be beautiful and brutal. Everyone knows, and no one speaks.
Joanne writes without self-pity. She writes to save. Her stories of teaching radKIDS and using martial arts to rebuild strength reminded me that healing doesn’t come from fear; it comes from movement.
I finished the book sitting at my classroom desk after hours, whispering, “Thank you for saying what we were never allowed to.” Every survivor I know should read this not to relive pain, but to see proof that survival can turn into purpose.

[Jane Brind · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve seen the world from 30,000 feet and from lonely hotel corridors at 2 a.m.
Joanne’s stories about travel danger made my stomach knot.
I’ve had taxi drivers lock the doors, strangers follow me to my gate and every time, I’ve wondered if I was overreacting. This book told me: I wasn’t.
Her words validated what so many of us live, that freedom for women often comes with a quiet fear tax. What I love is that she offers action. Her self-defense mindset, her checklists, her emphasis on intuition, they all translate perfectly for women on the move. Since reading it, I’ve changed how I teach my own daughters to travel aware, but not afraid.
Joanne’s honesty gave me back a little of the courage the world tried to take.

[Alex Norgard · Rating 5 out of 5]

I built a career in boardrooms full of men, learning early that safety in a “professional” space is an illusion. Joanne’s section on business travel felt ripped from my own diaries the hotel doors I double-locked, the cab drivers I didn’t trust, the colleagues who turned into predators after a conference dinner. She puts words to that silent calculation every working woman makes: “How do I stay safe and still seem confident?” What I love about this book is its balance rage tempered with reason, trauma paired with strategy. Her chapters on self-defense and predator psychology should be required reading for every corporate wellness program.
I saw myself on nearly every page not as a victim, but as proof that we’ve all been navigating a battlefield disguised as everyday life.

[Nylan Horton · Rating 5 out of 5]

I live in rural Iowa, where everybody knows everybody, and where calling the police can mean seeing your abuser at church on Sunday. The section about rural isolation could have been written about my life. The miles between houses, the gossip that keeps women silent, Joanne nailed it.
When she said, “It is a crisis,” I whispered, “Yes, it is.” Her stories gave me permission to stop feeling ashamed. The chapter about how economic dependence traps women hit especially hard, I stayed too long because I couldn’t afford to leave. This book gave me language for my survival and a sense that what I went through matters in a bigger picture.
I wish I’d had it twenty years ago.
It’s not just a book, it’s a light for anyone still finding the courage to step out of the dark.

[Cressida Harlow · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve spent half my life in uniform, traveling, training, and navigating male-dominated spaces where danger wasn’t something you feared, it was something you expected. But reading Joanne’s stories made me realize: the biggest threat women face isn’t warzones. It’s home. It’s coworkers. It’s the people we trust. Her honesty about being drugged and assaulted cut deep, because I’ve seen female soldiers come back from deployments only to be hurt in their own barracks. This book is raw, real, and necessary. Every woman in service should read it. Every commander should be forced to.

[Renji Kato · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve held the hands of women battling cancer, yet some of their deepest pain wasn’t from illness, it was from abusive partners, assaults they never told anyone, or trauma their bodies never forgot.
Joanne tells those stories. Her chapter about trauma resurfacing in adulthood mirrored what I see daily: the body remembers. The fear never fully disappears. This book is more than awareness, it’s solidarity. I felt understood in a way my job never lets me be.

[Maya · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m the quiet type, PTA mom, bake-sale organizer, the one who “has it all together.” But I read Joanne’s chapter about childhood abuse and had to put the book down because suddenly I was 8 again. She writes with a bravery I’ve never been able to find in myself. Her words didn’t just tell my story, they gave me permission to stop hiding from it. This book changed me. Not with fear, but with truth.

[Torin Blackwood · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book in the back office between shifts, and I cried twice. The section on controlling partners and the lies women tell to survive brought me back to my first marriage. Joanne doesn’t romanticize survival; she tells it as the gritty, exhausting fight it is. I’ve seen too many waitresses hide bruises under makeup. This book made me want to start conversations we’ve all avoided.

[Imogen Vale · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have taught gender studies for 20 years, but this book taught me. Joanne threads personal trauma with structural critique in a way that hits harder than any academic text I assign. The parts on Title IX rollback, media grooming, and normalized misogyny? I wish every student on my campus would read them. This book is education through lived truth.

[Svea Brandt · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve carried women out of burning houses. I’ve seen what flames can do. But the kind of danger Joanne writes about? It doesn’t leave ashes, it leaves silence. Shame. Fear. Her story about being raped on a trip reminded me of a coworker who resigned after something similar. We don’t talk about it in my field. We should.

[Frank · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve slept in thousands of hotels, walked down dark hallways with my heart in my throat, and smiled through interactions that felt wrong. Joanne gets it. The way she writes about travel dangers felt like reading pages from my own logbook. I never felt so seen, or so angry that we call these things “normal

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

I live 22 miles from the nearest town. Out here, a scream disappears before it reaches anyone.
Joanne’s discussion of rural danger? Spot on. We don’t call the police. We don’t “make noise.” We endure. I stayed with a violent husband for 12 years because leaving felt more dangerous than staying.
I cried reading this book, finally someone said the quiet part out loud.

[Patricia · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book forced me to reckon with things I ignored for too long. Joanne explains exactly why so many women never file, and why so many reports get lost between shift changes. Her chapters on predator mentality should be required training at every academy. I wish I had read this 30 years ago. Maybe I would’ve listened differently.

[Sharon · Rating 5 out of 5]

I built my business from nothing, but the hardest battles weren’t financial, they were the men who thought mentorship meant entitlement. When Joanne described being drugged during a business trip, I felt my stomach twist. I’ve been in that hotel room. That meeting. That moment. I’m grateful this book exists. Not because it’s comforting, but because it’s honest.

[Diane · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book because my daughter asked me to. I ended it feeling ashamed of how blind I’d been.
Joanne walks through decades of laws, culture, and media that trained men like me to look away. Her writing isn’t accusatory, it’s illuminating. I wish books like this had existed when I was 20. I’m glad it exists now, so I can teach my daughter’s generation to be better.