The Bruises You Can’t See

The betrayal was loud. But the abuse was quiet.

Now, I didn't want to start this blog with a heavy topic, but it is important. We don't talk about the abuse we don't physically see because it is the easiest to hide; at least for me, it was. You would have never guessed that I was a domestic abuse victim, not with how I carried myself. Maybe it was my tumultuous childhood that taught me what survival mode was. I've done it since I was a kid. What is 16 years more?

Now, I don't believe it was the cheating that broke me.

Not the first time. Not even the second.

I had already been unravelling quietly for years, questioning myself, downplaying my needs, and making excuses for his coldness and blame. I was surviving in silence, shrinking bit by bit, until I barely recognised the version of me that stayed.

But when he cheated again, after everything I had poured into the marriage, something inside me snapped awake.
Not in rage. Not even heartbreak. Just… clarity. 

I saw the pattern. I saw the manipulation.
And for the first time, I saw that it didn’t matter how good I was, how patient or how loving.
He was never going to love me in the way I deserved because he needed me to be small to feel big.

After the first time, I blamed myself. Maybe it was I who spoiled him; maybe I didn't give him something he needed. My therapist snapped me back into reality so fast that it changed the way I started looking at things. She said that a fully grown adult would reciprocate, not take advantage. That was when I started working on myself. Slowly but surely, I was going to try to reclaim myself.

The second betrayal was loud and undeniable, and it became my point of no return. Because even though I had survived the gaslighting, the emotional coldness, the walking-on-eggshells…
This was the moment I stopped surviving and started fully reclaiming.

Not just my relationship status. Myself.

People don’t always understand emotional abuse. They ask, “Why did you stay so long?”
But they never see how much work it takes to convince yourself you’re not the problem and how much it took for me to actually believe it wasn't me; it was him.

Sometimes, it feels easier to stay and keep peace for the kids, even if you’re at war with yourself.

But I couldn't after the cheating. I have been hurting long before that. I had already started grieving the version of me that disappeared in his presence. I was not willing to lose anymore because not only was I doing a disservice to myself, but I was also depriving my kids of the best version of me as their mom.

I am still struggling with this, as we are doing an in-home separation. Why? He hasn't found a job yet, and I am still working on my courage, not to be alone but to fight the fight that will come when I serve him the divorce papers.

My two boys are my world, and I am doing everything I can to keep them both physically, mentally and emotionally safe.

This blog, Unravelled & Reclaimed, is where I name it.
It’s where I say: Yes, it was abuse.
No, you don’t need bruises to be believed.
And yes, you are allowed to leave when you’re ready. Even if it takes years. Even if others don’t understand.

I am sharing my story so you know you are not alone in this and that I see you and what you are going through. I am right there with you.

We may unravel, but we will reclaim.
And I’m still doing both, one truth at a time.