As told to Ann DeGrey.

Not in my worst nightmares did I ever imagine my marriage would fall apart so quickly.

We said our vows on a beautiful summery day, with my entire family ecstatic for us. My new husband, *Abe, looked at me like I was the only person in the world.

Everyone told me how lucky I was, that I found someone so charming and reliable.

My parents adored him from the first time he showed up at our house with flowers and a big smile.

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My brothers told me they knew Abe would fit in just perfectly, like he'd always been part of the family.

So, for the first three months, I was literally floating through our little apartment, thinking this was it; this was forever.

Then, almost overnight, the love vanished.

He started pointing out every little thing I did wrong. My coffee was too weak, my hair was always messy. He criticised the way I folded his clothes, saying they made him look sloppy at work.

At first, I laughed it off, thinking it was just newlywed stress. But his words became increasingly nasty.

After a night out with his friends, he told me I was embarrassing him, that I talked too much, that I was lucky he put up with someone as "needy" as me.

The bullying crept into everything. He'd scroll through my phone when I was in the shower, then question why I still texted my old workmates.

He'd cancel plans with my family at the last minute and tell me it was because I needed to learn to prioritise him.

Then I stopped arguing back. I stopped laughing the way I used to. I became quieter, like a shell of the woman I used to be.

I'd check myself in the mirror and barely recognise the woman staring back. My eyes looked so tired.

I could barely smile anymore and didn't care about how I dressed or how my makeup looked.

There was no way I could stay in this toxic relationship.

I told Abe I was leaving, and he didn't kick up a fuss. He really didn't give a shit at all.

Meanwhile, my family were devastated. Not for me, but for Abe.

"How could you leave him?" my brother said. "He's the best guy!" But my family never saw what I saw. To them, he was still the golden boy.

My mother kept saying he was just stressed from the wedding and that all couples fight.

Even my sister told me I was overreacting.

When the divorce was finalised, my brother invited Abe to my nephew's first birthday anyway.

"He's like family," he said.

I stayed home that day, crying my eyes out in my new apartment, wondering how the man who'd devastated me could still be a part of my family.

I've moved on in every way, I'm smiling again and doing what I like, without being criticised.

But every few weeks, I'm forced to see Abe because my family keeps including him in every family event.

He's there on family birthdays, christenings, weddings and even housewarmings.

He shows up with the same lovely smile that once fooled me, carrying the wine my mother likes. Or holding a big bunch of flowers for her.

My family treat him like nothing ever happened.

I've tried to explain. I told my parents and siblings how cruel Abe had been to me.

But they just don't believe me.

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Abe's treatment of me still impacts me.

I still sometimes flinch when someone raises their voice, even in fun moments. So seeing him laugh with my family feels like a fresh bruise.

My mum listened to me explain this and only said, "sweetheart, it's been two years!"

My sister told me that holding grudges only hurt me. No one seemed to hear the part about the emotional abuse, the constant belittling that left me feeling worthless.

To them, he was still the charming son-in-law who remembered everyone's birthdays or helped wash the dishes without being asked.

Last month, it was my niece's graduation party. I walked into the backyard and there he was, flipping snags on the barbeque.

I wanted to leave right away. Instead, I told myself to rise above it, smile at him and then ignore him for the rest of the day.

I sat on the edge of the group, feeling invisible in my own family.

Later, when I mentioned how uncomfortable it made me, my mum said, "we can't just cut him out. He's been through a lot too."

Like what? His only "pain" was me leaving him because he was abusive.

Some nights I lie awake replaying those early months of marriage, wishing I could warn that happy bride what was ahead of her.

But I'm stronger now, thanks to therapy, and now I have a new man in my life.

One thing is for sure, the next family event, I'll be bringing my new boyfriend along and hopefully that will make Abe feel awkward and leave my family behind him for good.

Feature image: Getty.