Dear Neighbour, Our Once-Loved Friend,

A little girl came to see you, yesterday. It was her birthday.
She wanted so much to share a piece of that day with you, like she used to, you valued her. She’s never received that kind of safety, gentleness, or consistent love from a male figure, just you and why she loves your company.

But she felt she couldn’t.
That’s not fair—

The day everything changed was not her fault.
We are the ones left in the wreckage.
In this event,... we have been victims of a family thrown into chaos by one person’s choices.

One person—her father—who began an affair in 2023, in the very place you’d never imagine.
It started with his supposed passion, where he decided to betray us quietly, methodically—covertly.
And if that wasn’t enough, he blamed me for everything that followed.

I didn’t know there was another person in our life. But I did know something had happened to amplify the abuse I was receiving.
The man you knew twisted reality so completely that it nearly destroyed me.
It almost took my life and sometimes, I believe that’s why he stayed—to watch it all unfold.
To stand by silently as I unraveled, as the damage took root, as he stole my light.

That is the cruelty of covert abuse—
It hides behind a mask of concern, of charm, of the appearance of normalcy.
But underneath, it feeds on power, on control, on the slow erosion of another human being’s sense of reality. At times, I could barely speak to you.
The anxiety in my body was so intense, I genuinely thought I was having heart failure.
That’s what prolonged abuse does. 

Please understand: this wasn’t a simple falling out.
This was a deep, deliberate deception that shattered more than a relationship—it stole our stability, our trust, and nearly our hope.

The facade lives on and so does the silence.

This facade is carefully maintained—so that the truth remains buried. And we stay silent, not because we want to, but because I fear what will happen if we speak.

I’ve been judged for how I responded. But I would do it all again if it meant protecting our daughter. I reacted, to stop the yelling—the terror—the emotional chaos that poured through our home. I reacted to the abuse I was subjected to for years. Late October, she reacted to the terror she endured and ran to your home, and I left the basement that day in silence and said to myself, we will never to go through that again.

That one day came—the day everything changed—and freed us.
And though it came with trauma we’re still trying to untangle, I am grateful for it. Because it stopped something I couldn’t endure any longer, and no child should ever have to.

He lied.
He created a version of events that erased his actions and painted me as unstable.
But I know the truth.
I just wanted the yelling and the craziness to stop.
I wanted peace.
He would not stop.

And so… the abuse continues. Not always in volume, but in silence, in theft, in blame, in the way he still hides behind his performance of being the “nice guy.” 

That, may be what you see, but it’s not the real purpose behind it. Carlin

Sharing; By Anonymous, Ontario, Canada.