Is It Really Abuse If He Doesn’t Yell?

This question haunted me for years.
“Is it really abuse if he’s not hitting me?”
“If he’s not yelling or threatening me, is it still abuse?”
“Am I overreacting?”

He was calm. Quiet. Controlled.
He didn’t lash out in obvious ways.
He didn’t forbid me from seeing people or lock me in a room.
Instead, he ignored. He lied. He gaslit.

He’d deny things he said—then make me feel crazy for remembering them.
He’d twist my words and wear down my confidence, little by little.
He’d call me “dramatic,” “emotional,” “too much,” whenever I tried to talk about what was wrong.

And somehow, I was the one constantly apologizing.

If this sounds familiar, I want you to know something:

Yes, it’s abuse.
Emotional abuse doesn’t always come in screaming fits.
Sometimes it’s served in silence, smirks, and dismissals.
Sometimes it’s in the things they don’t say, the support they don’t give, the way they withhold affection, approval, or basic respect—until you’re begging for breadcrumbs.

That kind of manipulation is hard to see, and even harder to prove.
But you feel it.
In your chest. In your gut. In your bones.

If you’ve started questioning your worth…
If you’re constantly explaining or justifying your feelings…
If you’ve lost yourself trying to keep the peace…

That is not love.
That is control.
And it’s not your fault.

You don’t need permission to leave what’s hurting you.
You don’t need bruises to prove it was real.

You just need one thing: your truth.

And when you start standing in that truth, everything begins to shift.

You’re not imagining it.
You’re not too sensitive.
You’re not broken.

You’re waking up.

With hope and honesty,
Carlin