The Quiet Ways We Heal
People think healing after domestic violence looks dramatic.
They imagine a powerful exit.
A bold declaration.
A clean break.
A before and after story.
But that’s not how it happens.
At least not for me.
For me, healing was quiet.
It didn’t begin with strength.
It began with confusion.
I didn’t leave because I hated him.
I left because I could no longer tolerate how I felt around him.
That distinction matters.
The hardest part wasn’t admitting he hurt me.
It was admitting that I had learned to shrink.
To soften my reactions.
To explain away things that didn’t feel right.
To adjust my nervous system around his moods.
#Healing started the day I realized:
I was anxious more than I was safe.
