In the End, I Reacted to the Abuse; When they only remember your response—but not the years that led to it.

He said I hit him.
He didn't mention the recent yelling, the years he spent erasing me, denying my reality, manipulating the truth, or controlling every part of our life.

He didn’t tell anyone about the silence that chipped away at me.
Or the gaslighting that made me question whether my memories were even real.
Or the way he created tension in the home until my nervous system lived in a permanent state of fight or flight.

They only saw the reaction.
The moment I snapped.
The moment I broke.

But they didn’t see what broke me.

I reacted because I was pushed past my capacity. Because my body, my mind, and my heart could no longer contain the pressure. Because when someone corners you for long enough, something inside fights to survive—even if it looks like “lashing out.”

This is what silent abuse does. It pushes you to the edge, then paints you as the unstable one when you fall.

But I know the truth.
And if you’ve been there, I want you to know this too:

Your reaction to abuse doesn’t make you the abuser.
It makes you human.
Wounded, yes.
Overwhelmed, absolutely.
But never to blame for what someone else systematically inflicted.

The abuse was the cause.
The reaction was the consequence.
And healing—this messy, brave journey—is your choice.

Carlin