My Journey to Understanding Emotional Abuse
There was a time in my life when I didn’t fully understand what emotional abuse or trauma bonding meant. I thought love was supposed to be hard-that if I just tried harder things would get better. It took living through it, and finding the strength to leave, to finally see the truth. This is my story of how I came to understand emotional abuse, trauma bonding, and ultimately, myself.
For over three years , I was married to a man who was emotionally and mentally abusive.
We met when I began working for him. He was a dentist, and I was one of his hygienists. I admired and respected him. He had a reputation for being very difficult but also and excellent dentist. He wasn’t motivated by money and always gave his patients his best.
At work, he was professional, and over the course of about a year we developed a relationship outside the office. He pursued me relentlessly-sending cards, flowers, and telling me more than once that I would make a good “breeder.” At the time, I took that as a compliment.
Although he seemed unhappy when we met, he often talked about wanting a daughter and building a future together.
I was 39, and he was 55. The first time we tried, I got pregnant. I was elated to be having a child with a man I loved.
But from that moment on the abuse began, That was also when I realized he was having an affair with his 24-year-old assistant.
there was a time when I didn’t think I could go through with the relationship. He pleaded with me to stay, and I gave it yet another chance. We got engaged and soon after married.
The abuse became intolerable.
I recall when I was younger, thinking, “If things are so bad for a woman, why doesn’t she just leave?”
Now, I know why.
FEAR.
A few days after I delivered my child and as I was enjoying every moment with her, four women from the office came to tell me they had caught him with his assistant in the parking lot the night my baby was born.
I fell into a deep depression. He told our friends and family I was suffering from postpartum depression.
Many sad days and weeks passed. My belongings stayed packed in a vacant room. He would come home after drinking and demand a different vegetarian meal every night.
Still, I continued to make dinners, organize the house, decorate, and try to please him. I thought that if I could just be better, things would improve. I made excuses for his behavior.
When things got really bad, he would suddenly be kind again-and the cycle would start all over.
Eventually, I went to marriage counseling. He attended once or twice , then stopped showing up. One day, I was alone with the counselor (psychologist). I told him I wanted to make it work and have the family I longed for.
He told me the best thing he could do was to encourage me to get a divorce. That it would never change. It was best to divorce while my daughter was very young.
I filed for divorce. I was threatened and left with no alimony, a small amount of child support and a small downpayment for a little house that needed a lot of work. I went back to work full time.
I know how hard it is to leave. I also know how necessary it is for your child and for your mental and physical health.
The abuse continued long after the divorce but I stood by him for my child. I tried as best I could to give her both parents.
Leaving that relationship was hard. It took years for me to understand what I experienced wasn’t love-it was trauma bonding. I was attached to the very person who caused me pain. Every small moment of kindness, every apology, every “I’ll change” kept me hooked, hoping for the man I thought he was.
Trauma bonding creates a cycle that confuses love with survival. You begin to mistake the highs and lows for passion. You hold onto the moments of calm as proof that things are getting better, you stop recognizing yourself.
It took time, therapy, and a lot of self-reflection to realize love should never feel like fear, anxiety, or walking on eggshells. Healing meant learning that I didn’t have to earn love by suffering. for. it.
Today, I share my story not from a place of anger, but from understanding. I want other women to know that leaving doesn’t make you weak-it’s an act of courage. You may lose the relationship and the dream but you’ll gain yourself back. And that is where true healing begins.
My saving grace was my child and the need to give her the best childhood I could under the circumstances.