The 'Secret' of Emotional Abuse

Just like all the horrible types of abuse that are not spoken about enough, emotional abuse is one of them. The worst thing about it is perhaps how secretive and hidden it is, to the extent I did not realize I had been a victim until two years after the relationship ended.

What is it?

“What is emotional abuse?”

“What does emotional abuse look like?”

“How do I know if I have been emotionally abused?”

These are all phrases I have Googled multiple times in my quest to find out if I was exaggerating and if my abuse was “real” abuse. Truth is, there is not a perfect dictionary definition. Well, not one that feels right to me, and I do not think we need to assess ourselves to see if our experiences fit perfectly to a definition.

So, what does it look like?

“You know that’s emotional abuse, what you have just described. You have been abused,” are words my counselor said during our first session seven months ago after I spoke about my past partner and our relationship. Those words did not feel real, I desperately did not want to believe it, even though I knew it could be true. I really did not want to face this.

The thing is, emotional abuse is sneaky, it can start subtly, cause you to miss all the red flags you would see as an outsider. For me, it started with intense, overly affectionate flattery, which sucked me in. Then, gradually, cracks start to show, lies and secrets which were kept from me unraveled. Worse still, I was constantly convinced these were not true.

I was emotionally manipulated, constantly criticized, sometimes praised, then my flaws were highlighted. However, my partner always denied everything. It was confusing, I wasn’t good enough, I had to do better. I couldn’t bring it up because every time I did, I was the one in the wrong or my partner would apologize, saying it wouldn’t happen again. Well, lucky guess, it did.

What is the effect?

After fighting to end the relationship, I was vulnerable, stuck in a messy, dark place where my mental health took a crumble. I was like a can of shaken lemonade, at first, I thought I was fine, then the explosion took the form of a dark depression. I felt stuck, powerless, I used self-harm as a form of control and had constant, daily thoughts of not wanting to live anymore.

What now?

I’m glad I faced it and I still continue to face it. I’m glad I’ve had amazing friends who have called me out, listened and made it so easy to talk to them. I’m glad I have partner who doesn’t hesitate to drive around at 12 a.m. to sit with me through the dark thoughts, who constantly tells me I’m amazing and so loved.

Question behaviors, question your responses and please tell someone, even if something does not seem quite right.