Sheena Rogers in Oregon.
October 22, 2025
On July 9, 2025, Missouri banned child marriage, setting the minimum age at 18 with no exceptions. This historic milestone—the fourth victory against child marriage in 2025 and the 16th state ban since the movement began—was years in the making. Survivors played a central role in that fight, sharing their stories to push lawmakers to act.
Sheena Rogers is one of those survivors. Married at just 15, she was immediately subjected to constant sexual abuse and violence that she tried to escape many times. At 17, she was prosecuted as an adult and convicted of her husband’s death. At 18, she was sentenced to life without parole, a sentence overturned in 2015 after she had spent 25 years in prison.
In the excerpts below from our interview with Sheena, she reflects on the beliefs that led her into marriage as a teenager, how her perspective transformed, and why she now speaks out to protect others from the harms she endured. Her voice and advocacy were part of the effort that helped make Missouri’s recent child marriage ban a reality.
As a teenager, I believed marriage would save me.
I thought it was my way out of pain and instability. Instead, when I married at just 15, I found myself trapped in abuse and violence I couldn’t escape. That experience shaped my perspective in a permanent way.
I know firsthand how child marriage strips away choices, dreams, and safety. It’s why I speak out today—because no child should ever mistake marriage for freedom the way I did.
The pivotal moment was realizing, even while I was incarcerated, that my story wasn’t just mine. I saw patterns—other women, other girls—carrying the same kinds of trauma from abuse and forced adulthood. When I connected my past to the bigger issue of child marriage, I understood that if I didn’t speak, silence would keep the cycle alive.
Taking that first step into public advocacy was terrifying and liberating at the same time. For so long, my story carried shame and judgment. Speaking it aloud meant facing those emotions. But once I started, I realized how much power there is in truth. The challenge was letting myself be vulnerable. The gift was seeing others connect—listening and believing.
At 17, after two years of domestic violence and sexual assaults, I was arrested for the death of my husband. At 18, I was sentenced to life in prison without parole. I am living proof that marriage under 18 is not safe, not protective, and not survivable.
Child marriage stole my childhood. It took away my chance to be a girl, to grow, to dream, to learn who I was. It led me into a life of violence and trauma that ended with me losing 25 years to prison. I cannot get those years back. But I can use my voice now to prevent other children from carrying those same scars.
No exceptions for child marriage mean no loopholes, because every loophole leaves a child at risk. A child cannot escape a marriage, and they cannot truly consent. I was old enough to get married, but when I tried to leave, I wasn’t old enough to get into a shelter, hire a lawyer, or file for divorce. Yet, I was old enough to face the death penalty at 17.
I stayed motivated by remembering the 17‑year‑old girl I once was. She didn’t have a voice, but I do now. Survivors standing beside me kept me going, too. We are stronger together, and each of us carries a piece of the truth that lawmakers need to hear.
The most challenging part of advocacy was reliving my own pain while explaining why the law must change. Advocacy means opening wounds. I navigated it by reminding myself that my pain can be turned into purpose. If telling my story makes even one lawmaker see the urgency, it’s worth it.
The most meaningful support came from people who believed me—who didn’t question my story but instead stood with me. I wish, as a child, I had had someone to protect me from marriage in the first place. That kind of support, prevention, would have changed everything.
Working alongside lawmakers, AHA Foundation, and other advocates made me realize the power of collaboration. Survivors bring the lived truth, advocates bring persistence, and lawmakers bring the ability to turn our voices into law. When those forces come together, real change happens.
[Through this fight], I’ve also learned that my voice is stronger than my fear. For 25 years, I was silenced behind prison walls. Now, I know I can use my story to change laws, to protect children, and to make sure my suffering wasn’t in vain.

Sheena (second from left) joins former Senator Holly Thompson Rader, state Senator Tracy McCreery, Senator Rick Brattin, and advocates from Unchained at Last at a press conference in Missouri.
Waiting for the governor’s signature for the child marriage ban this summer was overwhelming. I felt grief for the girl I was, pride in the woman I’ve become, and hope for the children who will never have to endure what I did. It was a mix of pain and healing.
This victory, to me, means my story mattered—that my scars helped shape a better future. For others still fighting, it proves change is possible, even when it feels impossible.
What stands out most to me in this long battle we have been through is the resilience of survivors. We keep showing up, telling our truths, even when it hurts. That persistence is what moves mountains.
I hope this milestone sends a message: children deserve protection, not loopholes. Survivors’ voices are powerful. And change can come when we refuse to be silent.
To those still advocating across other states, my advice is simple: don’t give up. Your story matters. Your voice can change laws. Progress may feel slow, but every step forward is worth it. Remember: survivors like us are not broken—we are the proof that the system must change.
Sheena is an advocate at The National Life Without Parole (LWOP) Leadership Council and a founder of two non-profit organizations that advocate for others impacted by the carceral system, addiction, domestic violence, sexual assault, and homelessness. Her story is a reminder of both the devastating impact of child marriage and the extraordinary resilience of those who fight to end it. Their voices, and those of advocates, legislators, and countless others, are shaping a future where no child is forced into marriage.