Enjoyed reading this. The part that really resonated was ...
"He was so consumed with his own stress and his own story that my suffering didn’t even register. In that moment, I realized how little space I occupied in his emotional world because he had to break through his feelings, emotions, theories, judgements, before he could even acknowledge that I existed."
It's exhausting. I felt like I was doing the work for two people. No one should have to do that.
I’ve played the victim before. It happens much like this where you’re so blinded by your own suffering that any slight, comment, action, or non-action feels like something against you. In that sense it feels like you’re the one walking on eggshells, except it’s your own brain that’s dropping the eggs right in front of you.
Some men aren’t even aware of this, and they spend their whole lives paranoid and consequently manipulative, but most of all: a coward.
I've come to believe that acknowledging and owning our vulnerabilities is actually a form of strength - regardless of our gender. We don’t need to bare our soul to the world - that’s not the point. But self-reflection, followed by quiet recognition and the ability to clearly delineate which thoughts and actions are truly our own - and which belong to someone else - is a gift we owe ourselves. It can save our sanity and integrity as human beings, and maybe even salvage those relationships that are worth saving.
Wow. I had this 35 years ago with my first husband. This is so classic. I feel that all these guys read a book on how to be a narcissistic abuser. They are so similar. The phrase that caught me ‘being on eggshells’. Yes your entire life is devoted to making sure this wretch of a human doesn’t get angry at you. Nothing else matters. Just let him please please not go into a rage. Anyway I got out. Had a very high conflict divorce but survived that. Got remarried to a human being a few years later. What got me out? I remember being so exhausted pretending in public that o actually had what people call marriage. I was too tired to keep faking it. I gave up and got out.
I read most of this, holding my breath. Doubt is a poison that rots at the root of our self worth—despite being out of similar dynamics, that second-guessing still gnaws at me. When I hear someone else’s story, it reminds me that we’re all in it together. Thank you for writing this. x
1) Never invest in potential, people only rarely change nor truly desire change;
2) The traumatized partner may (subconsciously) realize his/her trauma is actually a lucrative source of control and emotional nourishment/attention, like a child getting its way by throwing a tantrum. It also functions as the ever perpetual validating excuse;
3) Love and patience should not be a permission system for becoming someone's therapeutic object.
I would add that us people make ourselves too dependent on the romantic promise. Romance, when possible, is beautiful and meaningful. But we are capable so little of finding contentment within ourselves so that we hold the idea of a partner at full responsible for our own happiness, sense of well-being, sense of belonging, and as the sole (or foremost) reflection of our worth.
— This is where our vulnerability is born.
I would say we should meditate and pursue martial arts, so as to find peace and strength within ourselves. Relationships shouldn't be about building a house together — it is two houses standing next to each other. Two bastions, serried. Presently, people kind of just collapse into each other's arms, so that emotional instability and vulnerability forms the foundation of the bond. A malicious partner may easily misuse this fact.
I think a relationship should truly be a twofold emancipation — to not be overtly dependent does not mean absence of authentic love. We tend to mistake the feeling of emotional relief of being seen, appreciated, and touched for love. Without this dependency, it looks as if our bond and mood is cold.
An emancipated love would say: "I don't need you for my fundamental well-being, but our two emancipated voices create a song so unique and special that you offer an experience I could never have on my own. This song makes my soul journey places, I could not reach alone."
It's so similar for me. But there are odd differences.
I never doubted myself- I thought he was bipolar. I never fell for his gaslighting either, he claimed his memory was bad because of his past trauma. (I believed it, but told him to start making notes and journals to improve his memory, and got annoyed that he never did.)
Both of these things enraged him over the years.
I thought he was working on his mental health.
I didn't feel the honeymoon swing of the trauma bond cycle, I felt disgusted by his most recent manic act, frustrated by his "depressive" states, and his low priority on finding a doctor or medication to control his mental health. I felt aggravated by his incessant demands on me.
But I thought he was genuinely sick, and trying. I thought he loved me, and was just unwell.
I didn't want to abandon him in his hour of need. What a sad, sick, joke on me.
Yes. That’s how it works—narcissism hides in plain sight because the culture mirrors it back.
When ego is the norm, neglect feels like love, control feels like care, and abuse disguises itself as connection. You didn’t fail to see it—you were trained not to.
This, this, all of this. After walking on eggshells for so long, I still pause before I close a door. The conditioning was subtle but he “trained” me not to close doors or to have privacy or it would provoke a fight, which he would use an an opportunity to give me a firehose of “feedback” of everything I’d ever done wrong. It would only end when I apologized to his satisfaction. Just one example of thousands.
And yet, in my sleep-deprived, trauma-bonded, stress-derived-chronic-illness haze, I thought that if I could just get him to understand he was harming me, he would stop. One day he said: “I’m sorry you’re suffering but I’m comfortable and I’m not willing to make changes that would take me out of my comfort.” The honesty was refreshing at least.
It still took several years to escape because my kids were little and I couldn’t leave them on their own with him. He would forget to feed them, forget to put a coat on a baby in midwinter (after putting on his own coat!), forget to hydrate them in 110 degree summer heat. I had to wait until my youngest could advocate for herself on his weekends before I got us out (mostly).
Thank you for writing this. Those who’ve never experienced it often have trouble understanding what it’s like. The more we share the stories, hopefully the more it will be believed as a real occurrence.
I lived that story for 29 years. I kept hoping he would change, that he would see that he was hurting me and our kids and would want to do better. Then I woke up. Leaving was the best thing I ever did.
I am still healing but life is getting better. ❤️🩹
Oh, how this resonates with me! Between my legal separation from my mentally abusive ex-husband and when I finally filed for divorce, I typed two pages (single spaced!) of abusive, gaslighting, cruel, belittling and shaming things he'd said and done to me. I kept the list nearby and whenever my resolve (to stay away) weakened, I read it. Sometimes I read it out loud. Sometimes I read it to a friend. We've been divorced since 2006 and sometimes I have to pinch myself, I'm so grateful I escaped. Thank you for the work you do, Jessica.
The realisation that things aren't going to change was a powerful one for me. We cling on to hope, determined to see the good in the person who is abusing us. And it takes strength to walk away. Thank you for sharing this. I hope it reaches the right places. As for me, I regard myself as one of the lucky ones.
I left a relationship with my fiancé as well. He was so sweet in the beginning when we were just dating. But once I said I would marry him something in him shifted. Ever so slowly he started making rules for me. Started giving me jobs to do for his business. He never paid me bc it was for “our future.” Then the anger started showing itself. And it was aimed at me. Everything did was wrong bc it wasn’t his way of doing it. So he taught me ‘his way.’
I got tired of living a life that was only about him. The last straw was when he told me I couldn’t drive home one night. He wanted me to stay with him. I wanted to get away from him. I went to my car with him thinking I was going to follow. But I made a U-turn and drive home. I never wanted to see him again. I dodged a bullet too! 💕
Very similar but even the even more subtle ‘I’m the victim routine’……I did this for you so you owe me. Always the victim.
Always the victim.
Always.
I think people from the National DV Hotline should read this. They'll be more helpful that way.
Thank you for putting this out there so other Moms / women in DV or IPV situations can be supported one way or another.
It can be hard to find someone who genuinely cares and not gaslight, judge, blame & shame, guilt-trip. 🙏🏾
If there is a DV group you want to send this to, please do - I am happy to do so too.
I’m an advocate/ER doc that works with a survivor-led organization called End Violence Everywhere: https://www.endviolenceeverywhere.org
Enjoyed reading this. The part that really resonated was ...
"He was so consumed with his own stress and his own story that my suffering didn’t even register. In that moment, I realized how little space I occupied in his emotional world because he had to break through his feelings, emotions, theories, judgements, before he could even acknowledge that I existed."
It's exhausting. I felt like I was doing the work for two people. No one should have to do that.
I’ve played the victim before. It happens much like this where you’re so blinded by your own suffering that any slight, comment, action, or non-action feels like something against you. In that sense it feels like you’re the one walking on eggshells, except it’s your own brain that’s dropping the eggs right in front of you.
Some men aren’t even aware of this, and they spend their whole lives paranoid and consequently manipulative, but most of all: a coward.
I really appreciate your honesty. Thank you.
I've come to believe that acknowledging and owning our vulnerabilities is actually a form of strength - regardless of our gender. We don’t need to bare our soul to the world - that’s not the point. But self-reflection, followed by quiet recognition and the ability to clearly delineate which thoughts and actions are truly our own - and which belong to someone else - is a gift we owe ourselves. It can save our sanity and integrity as human beings, and maybe even salvage those relationships that are worth saving.
Exactly. And when kids are involved there are so many people before my existence in a relationship like that.
Wow. I had this 35 years ago with my first husband. This is so classic. I feel that all these guys read a book on how to be a narcissistic abuser. They are so similar. The phrase that caught me ‘being on eggshells’. Yes your entire life is devoted to making sure this wretch of a human doesn’t get angry at you. Nothing else matters. Just let him please please not go into a rage. Anyway I got out. Had a very high conflict divorce but survived that. Got remarried to a human being a few years later. What got me out? I remember being so exhausted pretending in public that o actually had what people call marriage. I was too tired to keep faking it. I gave up and got out.
I read most of this, holding my breath. Doubt is a poison that rots at the root of our self worth—despite being out of similar dynamics, that second-guessing still gnaws at me. When I hear someone else’s story, it reminds me that we’re all in it together. Thank you for writing this. x
After I left my ex-husband, I kept hearing in my head “you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink”.
Females are taught to sacrifice themselves, to heal others.
I learned that the only person who can heal themselves, is that person.
If someone is interested in healing, they do not need me to do it.
Truth!!!
Well written, Miss Knight.
I would surmise:
1) Never invest in potential, people only rarely change nor truly desire change;
2) The traumatized partner may (subconsciously) realize his/her trauma is actually a lucrative source of control and emotional nourishment/attention, like a child getting its way by throwing a tantrum. It also functions as the ever perpetual validating excuse;
3) Love and patience should not be a permission system for becoming someone's therapeutic object.
I would add that us people make ourselves too dependent on the romantic promise. Romance, when possible, is beautiful and meaningful. But we are capable so little of finding contentment within ourselves so that we hold the idea of a partner at full responsible for our own happiness, sense of well-being, sense of belonging, and as the sole (or foremost) reflection of our worth.
— This is where our vulnerability is born.
I would say we should meditate and pursue martial arts, so as to find peace and strength within ourselves. Relationships shouldn't be about building a house together — it is two houses standing next to each other. Two bastions, serried. Presently, people kind of just collapse into each other's arms, so that emotional instability and vulnerability forms the foundation of the bond. A malicious partner may easily misuse this fact.
I think a relationship should truly be a twofold emancipation — to not be overtly dependent does not mean absence of authentic love. We tend to mistake the feeling of emotional relief of being seen, appreciated, and touched for love. Without this dependency, it looks as if our bond and mood is cold.
An emancipated love would say: "I don't need you for my fundamental well-being, but our two emancipated voices create a song so unique and special that you offer an experience I could never have on my own. This song makes my soul journey places, I could not reach alone."
It's so similar for me. But there are odd differences.
I never doubted myself- I thought he was bipolar. I never fell for his gaslighting either, he claimed his memory was bad because of his past trauma. (I believed it, but told him to start making notes and journals to improve his memory, and got annoyed that he never did.)
Both of these things enraged him over the years.
I thought he was working on his mental health.
I didn't feel the honeymoon swing of the trauma bond cycle, I felt disgusted by his most recent manic act, frustrated by his "depressive" states, and his low priority on finding a doctor or medication to control his mental health. I felt aggravated by his incessant demands on me.
But I thought he was genuinely sick, and trying. I thought he loved me, and was just unwell.
I didn't want to abandon him in his hour of need. What a sad, sick, joke on me.
Yes. That’s how it works—narcissism hides in plain sight because the culture mirrors it back.
When ego is the norm, neglect feels like love, control feels like care, and abuse disguises itself as connection. You didn’t fail to see it—you were trained not to.
This, this, all of this. After walking on eggshells for so long, I still pause before I close a door. The conditioning was subtle but he “trained” me not to close doors or to have privacy or it would provoke a fight, which he would use an an opportunity to give me a firehose of “feedback” of everything I’d ever done wrong. It would only end when I apologized to his satisfaction. Just one example of thousands.
And yet, in my sleep-deprived, trauma-bonded, stress-derived-chronic-illness haze, I thought that if I could just get him to understand he was harming me, he would stop. One day he said: “I’m sorry you’re suffering but I’m comfortable and I’m not willing to make changes that would take me out of my comfort.” The honesty was refreshing at least.
It still took several years to escape because my kids were little and I couldn’t leave them on their own with him. He would forget to feed them, forget to put a coat on a baby in midwinter (after putting on his own coat!), forget to hydrate them in 110 degree summer heat. I had to wait until my youngest could advocate for herself on his weekends before I got us out (mostly).
Thank you for writing this. Those who’ve never experienced it often have trouble understanding what it’s like. The more we share the stories, hopefully the more it will be believed as a real occurrence.
I lived that story for 29 years. I kept hoping he would change, that he would see that he was hurting me and our kids and would want to do better. Then I woke up. Leaving was the best thing I ever did.
I am still healing but life is getting better. ❤️🩹
Great article! I hope many will read this and understand how these toxic dynamics work. And make healthy choices from now on.
Oh, how this resonates with me! Between my legal separation from my mentally abusive ex-husband and when I finally filed for divorce, I typed two pages (single spaced!) of abusive, gaslighting, cruel, belittling and shaming things he'd said and done to me. I kept the list nearby and whenever my resolve (to stay away) weakened, I read it. Sometimes I read it out loud. Sometimes I read it to a friend. We've been divorced since 2006 and sometimes I have to pinch myself, I'm so grateful I escaped. Thank you for the work you do, Jessica.
Every word of this rings true for me. That’s both affirming and very, very scary. Thank you for sharing your story.
🤍
The realisation that things aren't going to change was a powerful one for me. We cling on to hope, determined to see the good in the person who is abusing us. And it takes strength to walk away. Thank you for sharing this. I hope it reaches the right places. As for me, I regard myself as one of the lucky ones.
I left a relationship with my fiancé as well. He was so sweet in the beginning when we were just dating. But once I said I would marry him something in him shifted. Ever so slowly he started making rules for me. Started giving me jobs to do for his business. He never paid me bc it was for “our future.” Then the anger started showing itself. And it was aimed at me. Everything did was wrong bc it wasn’t his way of doing it. So he taught me ‘his way.’
Mine used to always say "I cant wait for fhe rest of our lives" and id wonder why he couldnt focus on the life we were currently living.
Some guys are just like that. 💕
I got tired of living a life that was only about him. The last straw was when he told me I couldn’t drive home one night. He wanted me to stay with him. I wanted to get away from him. I went to my car with him thinking I was going to follow. But I made a U-turn and drive home. I never wanted to see him again. I dodged a bullet too! 💕