Truth.
Honesty.
Self-respect.
These are not just values I picked up one day — they were instilled in me from a very young age.
By my mother. By my conscience. By the deep knowing in me that even when the world shakes, I don’t.

I’ve never stolen. I’ve tried never to lie.
And even when life hurled insults at me — when someone I loved threw shame, blame, and emotional weapons my way — I held on to that small, sacred flame of dignity.

🔥 But living with someone abusive?
It tests everything.

The shouting.
The public humiliation.
The constant put-downs.
The isolation from people who loved me enough to see through the fog.
It chips away at you — until you barely recognise yourself in the mirror.

🧠 Neuroscience tells us that prolonged emotional abuse actually rewires the brain.
You begin to question your own perception of reality.
Gaslighting shrinks the hippocampus — the part of the brain responsible for memory and clarity — and enlarges the amygdala, where fear lives.
This isn’t weakness. It’s biology.
Your nervous system goes into survival mode: fawn, freeze, silence.

He told me they were jealous.
That they didn’t really like me.
That they were “no good for me.”

But my friends noticed.
They saw me slowly disappear.
They watched the light dim from my eyes.
They took me aside — gently, lovingly — and said:
“This isn’t you.”
“This isn’t right.”
“You don’t deserve this.”

They saw that I never had money for myself.
That my car wasn’t mine anymore.
That I couldn’t speak freely at a dinner table without being rudely shut down.
That I was publicly corrected, interrupted, dismissed.
That I was policed over every drink I had at a party.
That my joy made him uncomfortable.

🧠 Abuse thrives on isolation because connection is what heals us.
People who love you will reflect back the truth you’re too scared to face.
And when you start waking up — when you see just how far you were pulled into the vortex — it’s overwhelming.
But it’s also the beginning of coming home to yourself.

I lost some of those friends.
Some are gone now, and I never got to say thank you.
To tell them:
“You were right. I was in denial. I was drowning, and you were reaching for me.”

💔 And to those reading this who’ve been there — or are still there — please know:
It’s not your fault.
You weren’t weak.
You were traumatised, manipulated, and silenced.

But if you’re reading this now, you’re waking up.
And that’s the beginning of freedom.

💛 Here’s to the mothers who raised us with values that abuse could never fully erase.
To the friends who whispered truths we weren’t ready to hear.
To the part of us that always knew — even when we were exhausted, scared, and unsure — that this wasn’t love.

This summer, this life, this chapter…
It’s about honouring truth over tolerance.
Real connection over performance.
And authenticity over appeasement.

Because if your light threatens someone, it’s not your job to dim it.
It’s your job to shine brighter — and surround yourself with people who bask in your glow instead of trying to snuff it out.

#EmotionalAbuseAwareness #NeuroscienceOfTrauma #AuthenticLiving #HealingFromAbuse #GaslightingRecovery #TraumaInformedTruth #CPTSDHealing #YouAreNotCrazy #HealingInCommunity #WomensVoicesMatter #BoundariesAreBeautiful