'I stayed in an abusive relationship, until my young child was abusive towards me.'

This post deals with domestic violence and might be triggering for some readers.

The feature image used is a stock image.

It's been over a year since I realised that I needed to escape.

That staying with a controlling, and psychologically abusive person was harming my kids more in the long run, than the effects of leaving and starting a whole new life.

That maybe, just maybe, if I had the strength to endure this treatment for so many years, that I could find the strength to leave.

And so I left... or started the grueling process of leaving.

Over a year later the most common question I’ve been asked is: “Why did you stay?”

For those of you who have never been in a relationship like this one, that sadly so many of us have been, I thought I would try to answer that burning question.

Many assume it is simply the idea of breaking up a family that keeps us in the cycle of abuse. But I am here to say, no. That is not what made me stay.

We stay because we have been controlled and manipulated to believe that we have no other viable options. There are often elements of financial control among a lot of other seemingly simple reasons that keep us in 'it'. But they are not simple… not simple at all.

Watch: The signs of an abuser, told through his victim's phone. Post continues after video.

Poor self-worth. Fear. The belief deep down, from years of damage, that we are not worthy of anything better. That we are not strong enough, on our own, to provide for ourselves or our kids. Our identity has been slowly taken away, piece by piece until we no longer know who we are, what we want, and most importantly, what we are capable of.

It began for me as small bits of mind control that left me dependent and uncertain.

It got so deeply ingrained into my subconscious mind that I was not good enough or strong enough. These small acts that I endured on a daily basis reaffirmed, in my damaged and vulnerable mind, exactly what my abuser wanted me to feel. Doubtful, scared, and unworthy.

But because each of these small bits of exposure are just that - small - it became the norm for me. I forgot how to challenge my own thoughts. Forgot how my own beautiful intuition worked. The supposed “red flags” people warned me about. I was made to feel those were endearing ways that my abuser used to show his love. 

Each incident, each cycle, often ending with a “honeymoon” phase of attention, affection, and a brief break from the actual abuse, told me I must be crazy to feel this was wrong. 

This is all part of the game of control.

Listen: Nicole Lee tells her story of domestic violence. Post continues after audio.

Abuse became my love language.

In a strange twist of events, the weight of what was happening finally occurred to me one day when my young child was verbally abusive and disrespectful.

I thought to myself, “how dare you treat another human, especially your mum, this way? Where do you get off thinking this is okay?”

How on earth could I have been so stupid to not see what had been happening all these years until this very moment? And what could I do about it now that I have children, absolutely no financial control, and no self-esteem or self-worth?

I am the lucky one. The one who was surrounded by caring and loving friends and family. The one who finally found the strength to realise that the “how” and “when” didn’t matter anymore. 

Some of us are not so lucky.

Some of us may never have a moment that jerks us into action. The programming that is done day after day, year after year, is so damn hard to breakthrough. 

To this day I am struggling with uncovering more and more ways my abuser scarred me. I am easily triggered, it is hard for me to know what real and healthy love and relationships feel like. It has been so hard to remember the fierce, confident, self-assured, smart, in control of her own thoughts, independent, and brave woman who used to live in this body.

I will tell you that it takes more courage and strength to leave and to find that woman again than it did to endure that abuse year after year. I will also tell you that if any tiny part of this feels like your life, you are worth it. If I can do it, you can too.

If this post brings up any issues for you, or if you just feel like you need to speak to someone, please call 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) – the national sexual assault, domestic and family violence counselling service. It doesn’t matter where you live, they will take your call and, if need be, refer you to a service closer to home.

This article originally appeared on Divorced Moms and has been republished with full permission. 

Feature image: Getty.