Life goes by

 There’s a kind of quiet that only comes after chaos. Not the kind that feels empty—but the kind that feels like finally setting something heavy down. That’s where I am right now. We’re back to not talking. And this time, it isn’t confusion or waiting or hoping—it’s a choice. I chose peace. While I’m stepping away, he’s stepping louder—another dramatic reveal, another version of the story where he’s the victim and I’m painted as something I’m not. It used to shake me. It used to make me question myself. Now it just… confirms everything I needed to see. Because the truth is, things were already falling apart again. For a little while, it felt like maybe things had changed. Like maybe he had healed. But looking back now, I can see it for what it was—a honeymoon phase, not growth. One good month followed by another that felt all too familiar. Tension. Arguments. That slow, creeping feeling of losing myself again. And I stayed longer than I should have. Two extra months I gave back to ...

  When someone survives an abusive relationship, people around them often step in with strong opinions about what should happen next. Sometimes those opinions come from love. Sometimes they come from fear. Sometimes they come from anger toward the person who caused the harm. All of those emotions are understandable. But there is a line that often gets crossed — the line between supporting a survivor and trying to control their choices. Support sounds like this: “I’m worried about you.” “I’ll be here if you need help.” “I trust you to make decisions, but please stay safe.” “Tell me what kind of support you need.” Support leaves space for the survivor to still have ownership over their life. Control sounds different. Control demands proof. Control demands compliance. Control insists there is only one acceptable outcome. It can sound like: “You’re making a mistake.” “You’ll understand eventually.” “Prove they’ve changed.” “If you don’t do what I think you ...

  There’s a conversation people love to have about survivors, but rarely with them. It usually sounds something like this: “If you go back, you’re trauma bonded.” “You just haven’t realized how dangerous they still are.” “You’ll see eventually.” The strange thing about those statements is that they are usually spoken by people who aren’t living inside the situation. They’re standing outside it, trying to explain someone else’s reality back to them. I understand where some of that concern comes from. Abuse is real. Trauma bonds are real. People absolutely should be cautious when someone reconnects with a partner who has hurt them in the past. But the truth that almost never gets acknowledged is this: Survivors are still the ones living their own lives. For me personally, the outside voices have been loud lately. Especially from family. My mom has been screaming left and right that I’m just trauma bonded. That I need to get away from him. That someday I’ll see it her w...

  Anxiety doesn’t always show up when things are falling apart. Sometimes it shows up when things are finally starting to come together. Lately, my life has been sitting in that strange in-between space. I’ve reconnected with my husband. Things aren’t perfect, but they’re… better. We’ve had a couple arguments here and there, mostly because anxiety and stress still get the best of both of us sometimes. But the difference now is that we come back from it. Every time we talk it out, we seem to end up a little stronger than we were before. And that alone feels new. We’ve started talking about the future again. Real plans. The kind that make your heart race a little. Our anniversary is coming up in about two months, and we’ve been talking about me going to visit him. I told him I want to stay for at least four days. Whether I drive or take a bus, I just want to go and actually spend time together again. Not through a phone. Not through messages. Real life. And that’s where t...