I was in abusive relationship, for several years. But, I didn't even know it. How is that possible, you ask? Well, I'm here to tell you that abuse can come in many forms, and it's not always physical.
The effects of domestic violence are traumatic, and mental abuse can be just as damaging as physical. To keep personal details right, I will just say it was with a boyfriend who I was pretty serious with, as serious as it could be given the strain on the relationship. My ex always had to be in control of my friends, my time, my body and my mind. I wasn't allowed to take vacation even with my other friends just because he was distrusting and was convinced I was doing something wrong. Our fights would escalate to him degrading and belittling me, and I would get frustrated because it would just make me more desperate the angrier he got. He had complete control of how I would feel throughout any given day.
As time goes by, it progressed to him telling me how to spend my time and guilting me into giving up what I wanted to do in order to help him. I found myself spending less time with friends and family, and more time doing him favors. He often would use fighting words during our arguments in relation to my body or how I looked. At that point in time, and throughout the rest of our relationship, I was insecure, weak and completely dependent on his approval. He never punched me, never gave me a black eye and never did any real physical damage to my body. But I know today that if I had stayed, it would have progressed to that. A lot of the damage done to me was mental, like leaving me alone in the middle of street after midnight when he decided he was too mad to drive me home. But eventually, he got more aggressive. It started slowly. He would grab my arms or hands just tightly enough to where it was uncomfortable, and my pale skin bruised just slightly.
This is what I look back on that gets me the most frustrated. Most people I know who either experienced me going through this or whom I've told this story to asked why I didn't just break up with him. But, it's not that easy. When someone has a sort of dominant force over you, it's like being brainwashed. You know in your mind it's wrong, but you are so blinded by love, hope or fear that leaving is not an immediate option. You cling to that last string of hope you have that says, "He'll be different". Then tomorrow comes, and it happens again. And you repeat the same thing over again until one day, it's different. But it's because you chose for it to be that way, and that is the day you finally get out.
I would physically abuse my own body by excessively starving myself or self-harming, like scratching my own arm with cutter. I get sick at the thought of how I treated myself over another person, and that he felt it was OK to allow me to feel that way because of him. I spent so much time anxious over what I looked like or how I acted. I fell into a deep depression that consumed my life. Even the joyful moments weren't enjoyable because I was just waiting for them to end. This sign is hard to spot if the person is good at hiding it. I wasn't always good at it, and that's where my friends intervened. I am so lucky they did, but unfortunately, them telling me it had gone too far didn't resonate with me. I was fearful almost every day of him snapping, cheating, and leaving me. I didn't know what was right and what was wrong. And if I did know, I didn't want to. I was scared that if he left, I wouldn't be good enough for anyone else.
Now I see that it only affects me negatively when I let it. I took a lot of time to find who I am on my own and to be happy, healthy and comfortable in my own skin. Everybody's journey through violence and abuse is different. Some have it much worse than I did, and some were lucky to get out before it began. But, that doesn't make your story any less important. At the time, I was convinced there was no way I was a victim of domestic abuse. But I've grown a lot since then, and after the relationship ended, I took myself on a journey to seek self-love and rebuild what was left of myself. I still flinch at a raised hand, and I still cringe at the sound of his name. But, my body and my mind are just that: mine. And that is something I wake up thankful for every day now.
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