My Personal Experience in a DV Relationship

Like I mentioned, what majorly propelled me to make this website is because, like I mentioned before, I wanted to help women who were in my situation. I come from an abusive marriage where there was pretty much every single kind of abuse that you could endure—some physical, although it wasn’t mostly physical. The physical abuse happened here and there, but the majority of the abuse was emotional, mental, financial, and even sexual. A lot of people don’t consider the fact that sexual abuse isn’t always physical. I had to endure coercive sexual abuse frequently in the relationship. The relationship brought my self-esteem down so badly that at one point, I was literally just seconds away from committing suicide.

I often get asked why I stayed in this marriage for 10 years, or even how I got into it in the first place. As someone who was once seen as independent and strong, I myself wondered how I ended up in this situation. I felt so much shame looking back—how did I get stuck here? How was I so "stupid" to have stayed so long? But I think that is something many domestic violence survivors struggle with: shame, blame, and the challenge of forgiving ourselves. It’s a huge part of the healing process.

At the beginning, the relationship didn’t seem bad. He seemed sweet, caring, and stable. As time went on, red flags began to show, but because of my history with an abusive father, these behaviors didn’t stand out to me as much as they should have. There were always apologies, promises of change, and the typical cycle of abuse that kept me tied to hope that things would improve. I got pregnant, and while I did leave briefly, I returned—feeling vulnerable, alone, and pregnant with nowhere to go.

As the years went by, the abuse grew worse. Like many abusers, he surrounded himself with what people called “flying monkeys”—people close to him who justified and supported his actions. I became isolated bit by bit. It wasn’t outright, but whenever I tried to spend time with people he didn’t approve of, there were consequences: verbal attacks, smear campaigns, and constant negativity. Eventually, I just stopped making the effort to see people because it wasn’t worth the pain when I came home. I became isolated, he would not let me get a job and unable to pursue school or independence. Later on, as I grew stronger, I did manage to go to school, and that’s what I credit with giving me the strength and tools to finally leave. Education and self-improvement were my lifelines.

The abuse itself was often subtle at first: small comments, passive jokes, then gaslighting. If I called out the behavior, I was told I was too serious, that I was imagining things, or that I remembered events wrong. Eventually, I doubted my own memory and emotions. My feelings were constantly invalidated—I was told I was too emotional, hormonal, or that my depression and anxiety made me unreliable. The marriage worsened my mental health to the point where basic functioning became incredibly difficult.

This post is only a summary of some of the abuse I endured. I will be making more blog posts going into detail about the specific types of abuse, how I recognized them, how they manifested, and most importantly, how I began to heal. My goal in sharing this is not just to tell my story but to create a space of understanding and support for women who have lived through similar pain. No one deserves to feel alone, ashamed, or silenced. If my story can help even one person find clarity or courage, then this website has already fulfill