Behind closed doors

Of course it doesn’t happen all at once.

I am a strong, independent, college educated woman. Why in the world would I tolerate being treated that way?

Because it doesn’t start out like that. You fall in love with a man on his best behavior, a man trying to impress you.

When communication falls short, disagreements morph into arguments. Anger turns to harsh words, then to intimidation, violating your boundaries and personal space.

You feel helpless. You walk away, him on your heels, words like knives in your back. You can only take so much before you fight back, defend yourself. How can you just let someone treat you like that without standing up for yourself?

That only makes things worse. Things get louder, closer. You can feel his breath on your face. His pointed finger like a dagger. So close you could barely slide a piece of paper between the two of you.

Now there are two people spewing hate. You feel justified because the alternative feels weak, defeated, and you are neither.

Before you know it, the door you close to your bedroom has a hole in it. Locking yourself inside, away from the chaos and hate has caused more rage. You throw your favorite shirt in the garbage because its collar has been torn by angry fingers. Tears stream down your face as you collect pillows that have been rifled at you like missiles from across the bedroom.

Silence takes the place of anger. Days go by. Sometimes apologies, sometimes not. Never resolution.

You live in between the fights- morning routines, dinners on the porch, while the walls inside you grow bigger and bigger. The person you love, replaced by a person you no longer trust or feel safe with.

Were these things ever discussed or shared when I was going through it?

Never.

I wouldn’t dare.

The backlash and threats would have been unrelenting.

I am on the other side now, though.

It has taken a long time to gain the courage to share these experiences with others. There were so many things tied to the reason I stayed. The feelings of helplessness.

There are more stories, and more reasons. I will share them in pieces because it’s still hard for me.

I feel shame for tolerating it for so long. I feel shame for being stuck, not having the resources to get out.

I am here to tell you- You can do it.

I did it.

It was never what I wanted.

I wanted it to work, but you can’t spend your life afraid of the next time, tiptoeing around your partner, afraid of what you might do or say to set them off.

I’m sharing my experience to help others, to let them know they’re not the only one. It’s scary and horrible to feel like you have nowhere to turn.