Breaking Free: The Harsh Reality of Leaving an Abusive Relationship

The past six months have been the most difficult of my life. After finally stepping away from my abuser and securing a protection order, I was allocated a dedicated team of professionals to help me recover from three decades of abuse. This team included two psychologists, a social worker, a legal advisor, and translators—all working together to help me navigate the complex journey of healing and justice.

In the very first month of separation, working closely with my support team, I came to a painful and terrifying realization: I had been living in an extremely dangerous situation for years. What I had normalized as everyday life was, in fact, severe and ongoing abuse. Sometimes, it takes stepping away—and having professionals reflect reality back at you—to see just how much you have endured.

For years, abuse had become my ‘normal.’ The physical, emotional, and psychological torment had conditioned me to accept suffering as an inevitable part of my existence. It took a serious and life-altering moment for me to truly grasp the depths of what I had tolerated. That moment came when I left in the middle of the night, seeking refuge at a friend’s house. She listened, validated my fears, and said the words that finally made everything clear: “Yes, this is abuse.”

As the weeks passed, I worked closely with law enforcement and psychologists, piecing together the full picture of my reality. I had been in grave danger long before I left. The signs had been there—most notably, the strangulation—and yet, I had stayed. I had convinced myself, over and over, that things would get better, that he would change. And when I finally made the break in 2017, I should never have gone back. But I did, because of yet another promise that he would seek help.

I never wanted to leave my marriage by choice. After investing decades of my life into a relationship, I clung to hope, to the belief that things could change. But in the end, there was no choice. He will never take responsibility, he will never get help, and I am in danger if I stay.

And leaving was not the end of my suffering—it was only the beginning of a new kind of pain. On top of the psychological and emotional devastation of leaving an abusive marriage, I have endured further cruelty from those around him. His sister has sent me threatening emails regarding the divorce settlement, making it clear that their priority is not justice or fairness, but intimidation and financial control. His two children, whom I have known and loved for 32 years, have completely ignored me, offering no explanation and no closure.

Meanwhile, he plays the victim.

While I have been fighting for survival, healing from years of trauma, and working with professionals to put my life back together, he continues his manipulative games. The abuser’s greatest trick is to portray themselves as the one who has been wronged. And so, while I endure hell and back, he tells his version of the story to whoever will listen—painting himself as the victim while I am left picking up the shattered pieces of my life.

But I am still here. I am still standing. And for the first time in decades, I am free.