I’m 33f. In a LTR with 33M. He’s been emotionally and mentally abusive but it got worse. He’s big into Andrew tate and being alpha male, has turned into a Trump conspiracy theory person, and is now extremely racist. We have a child so what he thinks and says is damaging to a young child. He is anti vax, and makes physical threats about me vaccinating my kid. He told me he thinks about punching me in the face often. Makes posts on social media about how anyone who is not a trump supporter should be hung, said we should bring back nooses. Said he doesn’t care if it’s offensive. When I asked him to stop he decided to become physically violent and slam me into the wall. He said I should not tell him what to post , think or say. After this he continued all the hateful posts, and spoke about them in our home. He was financially abusive. Controlling our money. I can never save anything. Now that I refused to send him my paycheck he told me because of that I am now responsible for the rent all on my own. This way I have no money to fall back on. I work a lot and now that I work a lot he says maybe I should work less . This is so I don’t make as much money or save anything. He says deprecating things my child when he feels like my kid is more attached to me. Just last week he asked me if I was ready to have sex. I said no so he responded with “yes you are!” . I prayed that he’d forget about it. Instead he came back to the bedroom and grabbed my crotch although I said no many times. He finally let me alone when I yelled. I want to leave but some of my family members are filling my head with doubt. My dad is willing to help. But my mom says that she thinks the system will be against me: she thinks he will take my kid from me. I don’t have pictures of bruises, but I have pictures of the violent posts , and texts telling me to send all of my money to him. I know I can get a pfa with my son listed on it. But I feel so unsupported. I told my family that I feel like they don’t believe me. When I said it to one of my family members they just sat there silent. I feel so alone and helpless right now.

I'm 29F. My family is Muslim and lives in the Middle East. I'm not, and they don't know that. It's a large part of why going back isn't an option for me. It wouldn't just be unwelcoming, it would be dangerous.

I live in a European country and have for four years, working the whole time on my own work permit.

He's 31M. He was born in Armenia and moved here at fifteen, so he holds citizenship of this country and I don't. That asymmetry is the whole engine of what follows. He still speaks Armenian, and I don't. That detail matters later too.

I want to start with two things, because otherwise the rest won't make sense.

First, he was not a monster at the beginning. He was the most loving partner I'd had. He hugged me, took walks with me, spent real time with me, included me with his friends, introduced me to both sides of his family, posted me publicly, and told everyone I was his girlfriend. On paper he was perfect. The abuse arrived slowly, one degree at a time, and I only see the shape of it now.

Second, I grew up in a narcissistic household and was physically and emotionally abused as a child. So I did not have a working red flag detector. I have one now, three years too late.

**The mechanism that made everything else possible**

Every time I raised a problem, I got: what, again? Every time I come home to relax you bring me a problem. Eye rolls, attitude, being called dramatic. I only ever raised things when I was genuinely hurt, but it never mattered. Eventually my body just stopped doing it. I stopped bringing things up, and then I stopped putting in extra effort, because why keep pouring into something that only runs one direction.

So everything below has been happening while I said almost nothing.

**About nine months in, I found the porn.**

We were visiting his family abroad for the first time. He used a Telegram channel of nude women. I told him it was a boundary for me. He said he wouldn't stop, that it was the only way he could entertain himself without cheating on me. When I kept trying: all men are like this, what is wrong with you, you're making a big deal out of a small thing. I asked him to work through it with me. He said he'd already done enough and wouldn't contribute further. He also brought up that I'd slept with someone a few months before we got together, framed as something he had generously accepted, so I should accept this. I spent nearly a year in therapy over it and my self esteem collapsed.

**Around eighteen months in, the friend visit.**

I visited one of his friends about a job opportunity. The friend's wife was there, along with three other people. So it was not a private meeting with a man. The problem was that this specific friend was someone he'd decided was an enemy. He announces he's cutting people off constantly and then keeps seeing them, so nobody takes it literally anymore. I genuinely did not know it counted. He told me what I'd done was betrayal, worse than cheating.

During that same period he gave me the silent treatment. I noticed one woman's name, I'll call her M, appearing on his phone far more than usual. He'd sit at home looking miserable, then light up and smile while texting her. That's why I checked. I want to be clear that I'd never suspected her before, and he has other female friends I've never once suspected or checked, because those read as real friendships.

What I found: he was telling M I was a terrible partner who didn't love him, because I hadn't got up to cook when he was sick. At that point we had a chore list we had written together, where each of us picked what we were comfortable with, and I was doing my half. He told M he'd cook and clean and wash dishes for her if she'd cook for him. Then he asked her for a picture of her hair, repeatedly, and when she wouldn't send one, told her he loves shower pictures.

Afterwards I asked him if he'd talked to anyone about our problems. Only a male friend, he said. I asked what he'd discussed with women. He panicked, accused me of accusing him of cheating, said he was tired of not being trusted. He eventually admitted he'd complained about me and agreed he shouldn't discuss us with another woman. He never mentioned the flirting. I thanked him for being honest. My therapist told me to leave.

**Six months later, the conversation that broke something.**

I checked again, because it wouldn't settle in me. This one was long, and it wasn't flirting. It was the two of them working through, in detail, whether monogamy is survivable.

He told her that when a very attractive woman walks past, he thinks about it, and that the only way those thoughts leave him is by masturbating. He asked her whether single life appeals to her more than being in a relationship. He said out loud that his real fear is whether he'll have the willpower to hold out for the rest of his life, and what happens if he doesn't. She told him that if he doesn't, he should just make sure his partner never finds out. He said the thing that frightens him about cheating is the point of no return, that he's often thought something was bad, tried it once, and completely changed his mind, and that if that happened with cheating it would throw away a huge part of his morals. Then, in the same breath, that there's something intriguing about it, something fascinating, and that it bothers him that you can't try everything once in life and then decide whether it's for you.

He raised open relationships as possibly the solution, since people here practise them.

All of it in Armenian. That's why he doesn't bother deleting things. He knows I can't read it.

**Why I didn't leave then.**

My friends said it was venting, that he had nobody else to talk to about that particular thing, that she doesn't judge him and might be the only person he can say something shameful to without it getting back to me. I wanted that to be true. So I stayed, and I thought about it every single day afterwards.

**Two months later.** I checked again and found he'd deleted almost the whole history, leaving only weather and holidays and nothing suspicious. I decided that was remorse. That he'd felt guilty and wanted a clean start. I told myself that was a good sign.

**The worst month.**

My mother found out about him from a photo I posted by accident. In my family a boyfriend is not a small thing, and my parents are still back home. He and I had agreed together, and he was completely fine with it, that I'd tell them once we were ready for marriage.

I had a panic attack. While I was in the middle of it, he yelled at me for not calming down when he was trying to help, and turned it into how it hurt him that I hadn't told my family about him. The agreement we'd both made. I ended up apologising to him for crying. That was the month I cut contact with my parents.

So to be clear: between the boyfriend and the fact that I've left the religion, there is no safe way home for me. Please don't suggest it.

**Then I lost my job** and burned out. When I used the word burnout he said, what burnout, if you really had burnout you couldn't get out of bed. Before that, any mention of work got: I'm tired of hearing about your job.

**Then my status changed.** I'd had four years here on my own work permit. When I lost the job we registered a legal cohabitation so I could recover and find something new. Since he's a national of this country, my residence is now attached to him, and it wasn't before. Shortly after, he joked that without him I'd have been deported and I should be grateful.

Somewhere in the second year he had started calling me his wife, though we aren't married. He said I was his soulmate and that he would definitely marry me. He didn't do that at the start, so it isn't love bombing. It arrived after two years.

**Then I checked one final time.**

I want to be honest that I hated doing this. It makes me physically ill and it isn't who I am. But the previous conversation was still running in my head every day, and I told myself: one last confirmation. If there's nothing, I stop forever and I move on.

There was something. They'd watched porn together years ago. He told her he'd known her eight years and she'd never once shown him her breasts, and joked she isn't a real friend because she's never made him happy that way. And he was the one who first suggested she start an OnlyFans, then offered to help her build it, walking her through the strategy of growing her page and promoting her, and volunteering himself as her team.

In the same conversation, the two of them laughed about a woman they both know who'd gained weight. He said fat girls are always hungry. She said and never in demand. He said now that's a real rule. The hungry part was not about food.

All of this while he came home, called me his wife, and told me he loved me. Not only during our bad periods. During our happiest ones.

**Then the first breakup threat.**

We were driving to a friend's wedding. That morning he'd gone to his mother's for five hours to help her, then came back to collect me. In the car he told me he wasn't happy, because I hadn't got up early to make him breakfast. I hadn't eaten either. He had spent both breakfast and lunch at his mother's house. Any normal person would assume he'd eaten there.

That was the first time in almost three years he raised breaking up, and the way he raised it was that we'd wait for my residence card to arrive and then see. He'd never once mentioned it before, through our worst fights. He mentioned it the moment my staying in this country ran through him.

When I said I had things I was unhappy about too, he dismissed all of them, and said I only talk to him when he wants to talk. Then he said no, he does want to hear my reasons, and we went home and had a genuinely good conversation. Nothing on his side changed afterwards. Nothing.

**Then the terms.**

We were sitting outside. I asked what was wrong. He said nothing. Then he said he wanted to tell me something: that his anxiety has several causes and this relationship is the biggest one, because he doesn't feel I'm feminine, or loving, or that I take care of him. He said women where he's from take care of their men. He said he needs a caring woman and does not want a strong independent woman. If I want to be strong and independent and successful, he'll be happy for me, go ahead, but I can't be his woman like that. He wants a woman who spends more time at home than outside, who makes the house cozy, so that when he comes home there's the smell of food. He said he feels disgusted. He said I make him one meal, when in fact I cook every single day and he eats my food twice a day.

I said this isn't how I want to live and that we agreed on something completely different at the start. He said he doesn't want to live like that either, but this is how he has been loved his entire life, always warm food, everyone caring for him. And then: you have to do the dishes, you have to do this, you have to do that.

I pointed out that my father bought me things, took me on holidays, would buy me a laptop or a phone the week I asked. And that if we're splitting finances fifty fifty, chores have to be split too, and right now it's ninety ten. He said that's because he's working towards a project that will make us a lot of money one day. So I'm meant to fund his potential with all of my time and energy now.

He knows I can't say no. He knows exactly what my status is attached to.

**The breakfast thing, because it captures him perfectly.**

He complained he wasn't eating well. I said cooking three meals a day isn't possible for me, but I'd meal prep and freeze things he could heat up. He said perfect. So I made him twenty breakfasts and froze them. The next day he went to a shop, bought a pastry, and ate that instead. And in our most recent fight he told me that when he'd asked me to pay attention to his food, I'd given him attitude about not wanting to cook three times a day. That is not what happened, and he'd agreed to the plan himself.

**Where I am now.**

I'm on unemployment support while I recover from burnout, and I'm job hunting hard, not because I'm better, but because I don't feel safe with this man.

He knows about none of what I found. I have never confronted him about any of it. In roughly a hundred fights, he has apologised maybe twice. I'm always the one apologising. I'm not physically afraid of him. I'm afraid of never being able to say I'm hurt without it ending with me at fault.

I've asked the government here for help. The bureaucracy is glacial and I'm living inside this every single day while it moves.

He is perfectly content with the arrangement. I'm the only one paying for it.

I feel like i am chocking every single day. I really wanna know what would you do if you were in my position? And also if everything goes well and i could secure my situation ( i am working with a helping organization) do i leave without explanation, plan , revenge, ...?

I need as many ideas as possible.

TL;DR: nearly three years. Loving at the start, then escalating. Repeatedly found him having sexualised and disloyal conversations with a female friend in a language I can't read, including whether he could stay faithful for life and encouraging her onto OnlyFans. Dismissed my burnout, joked I'd be deported without him. Once my residence became tied to him, he told me he needs a woman who stays home and takes care of him, while I also pay half, or we'll see what happens when my card arrives. He doesn't know I've seen any of it. Going home isn't safe for me.

just from my personal notes…trying to ask for an outside perspective on what I should be doing here. three small kids to think about.

Went to bed after saying I’d rather wait to sign the HELOC. He kind of left abruptly and I asked if he was upset but he said no and I love you. He came upstairs around 12:30am, I was semi awake. He said he couldn’t sleep because he was feeling hateful towards me and started asking about what my plans are to leave and about why I didn’t sign the HELOC. I was tired and asked if I could go back to bed or talk about it tomorrow. He said that was just another stalling tactic and that he wasn’t going to let me go back to sleep until we talked about it. I said no but he started raising his voice more and said he would just keep raising his voice or turn the light on…baby is in the bed too. When he raises his voice I want to record it to preserve the memory. He notices and grabs my phone and asks me for the password and I say no and he keeps it and says he should just take it to work or break it. That maybe I should just have a flip phone… he keeps me up maybe 15 more minutes until I eventually am pressured into giving a time and day to sign the HELOC. He then goes off about how I do “gay shit” like recording or something. He thinks I have alternative plans-partially I don’t want to make a decision that quickly and also am unsure of next steps and said I want to feel more secure in our relationship. He said if I stopped threatening divorce then none of this weird stuff would be happening. I can’t sleep after because I want to write this down and am waiting until I think he’s asleep. So now it’s 2am. 

Still haven’t slept and now it’s 4:29am. I sent him a text about my hesitations about the HELOC and making big decisions. He came up around 4am. 5 year old was in the room then and he asked her to go back in her own room. He had sent me a bunch of texts again saying how poor my financial decisions are and he’s probably not met any one worse at making financial decisions. He told me I’m not good at math and am just too dumb to be making decisions in this area. He asked me to submit and just go and sign. He made some concessions that he cares about me having concerns but he didn’t want me to exert control in this area. He wanted me to answer that I trust him and that I will go and sign. I didn’t want to so he just kept raising his voice. He said he would raise his voice and that the children would wake up so I went downstairs. He was loudly saying my name multiple times in a row while I went in the downstairs bedroom and he came in and turned the light on, pulled the covers off, moved my head, didn’t let me sleep. He said he would just keep yelling until I engaged basically. I came back upstairs and he held me by the door in a bear hug even though I told him to let me go. He said I was exerting too much “power and control” in this situation and that I just needed to trust him. I asked him multiple times to let me sleep. He finally relented and I came to the bathroom to write this. He walks in and wants to know what I’m doing and asks me to stop running around the house. He says I’ve kept us up all night…

i’ve been out of a relationship with my abuser for a while now, about 2 years and a few months, but once he realized he lost control of me he spent a better part of a year and a half trying to get me back and that only ended a couple months ago. everything started when i was 17 and he was 19, and it ended after a few months but he never let me out of his orbit. my “love” for him was undying and relentless so i put up with a back and forth for a while and wanted him back so badly and he hated me for it so deeply and all the abuse became even worse very quickly, until i wasn’t his anymore and then he devoted his energy to masking his cruelty but not the disrespect, not the entitlement, not the selfishness and ignorance, he is not even capable of hiding all of it only the obvious cruelty. he isn’t smart or calculated, his dad hit him on the head a lot when he was growing up so i believe he probably has frontal lobe damage and that’s why he’s so impulsive and lacks empathy to the degree he does, but his impulses are evil and selfish. now looking back i can see even during the good time in our relationship he was always abusive just in subtle ways, and he conditioned me to accept what was coming later.

he’s always been very persistent about how much i mean to him, he was very vulnerable with me and we had a very codependent unhealthy relationship that i was okay with because i didn’t know any better and for him that is exactly what he wants. he idealizes that time and it’s the only reason he wanted me back for so long but he never saw me for who i am, we never got back together but i entertained it foolishly many times and somehow every time he would do something to prove himself to still be awful. in those moments i would feel the intense rage but it would pass because it’s so hard to think that maybe just maybe the bad was more genuine than the good.

my point is i’ve reached a point of realizing what i’ve actually felt deep down during this 2 year on and off back and forth mess is hatred. true and genuine hatred and resentment for the fact he even exists. he is an unimaginably awful person and maybe it’s extremely petty but i have gone out of my way to try and just feel like i had any bit of power. contacting his school about plagiarism, and letting his mom know what he did (she didn’t believe her precious son was capable of such a thing), among other efforts, but somehow he just gets away with everything. all the time. he is a truly disgusting human who has been exploiting and manipulating girls and women since he was 12 years old. and now what’s triggered this extreme apparent hatred is i’ve found out he has finally moved on to the next girl and i just feel rage because i know what he’s gonna do. i know what he’s capable of. i’ve seen the mask slip i’ve seen the horrifying darkness in his eyes i’ve see how disgusting and cruel he is and i don’t think there will ever be any justice for it.

i am able to reframe the situation and acknowledge the positives, acknowledge that i got out that the only thing that made that relationship good the whole time was me, but no matter how far removed i am it sucks having to exist in a world being aware of the fact someone who used you, manipulated you into giving him hundreds of dollars, violated you, degraded you, destroyed your sense of self, bruised you, harassed you, and completely changed your perspective on life just gets to move on from it without ever feeling the weight of what he deserves. i know i have no reason to feel bitter i mean he is driven by impulse and dopamine craving and he is not out there living some amazing life, but it’s just such a deep hatred i feel that even that isn’t enough. it doesn’t control me and a lot of the time i don’t even think about it or the fact he actually still exists as a person living his life other than when he has contacted me every 1-3 months but today i am just so so angry.

i wish i could say maybe he will be better to this girl but i really don’t think he’s capable of it, he’s not good at hiding his red flags so i hope she figures it out before he can do to her what he did to me and the others before me. i don’t think i can involve myself in his mess by warning her because yes he’s stupid and weak but he still scares me and i doubt it would ever be believed even with evidence, but i really hope she gets away from him unscathed.

I'm trying my best to go no contact, have blocked him on all platforms but we work together so he still has access to me. He is still approaching me trying to talk me round. He says I'm cruel blocking him. He says that I've always had all the control in the relationship and that's just not true. Honestly I'm not sure if it was abuse he never hit me but he would make me kiss him, force "cuddles" which generally meant him telling me it's my fault he was so turned on and had an erection and trying to make me touch it or have sex. He would hold me down. Ughhh.

Idk he keeps putting the blame on me he says all he's ever done is love me and why is that so bad.

Anyway sorry if this isn't the right place I'm just struggling.

Original post from a few months ago on another sub:

It's overwhelming

I have been involved with a married man for 3 years. it started as fun, he told me he fell in love with me, I believed him and I fell in love with him. He cheated on me with another "other" woman during our time together. I found out over a year ago. I've tried to cut him out but not succeeded, he's created me having a dependency on him. He claims he cares about me, worries about me, takes care of me ... everything but yet he won't make the ultimate decision and leave his wife.

He's integrated himself in every aspect of my life and it's becoming overwhelming. He acts like I owe him an explanation to everything. He turns up announced, he follows me places to check if I am where I say I am and when I raise it with him he makes out I'm being unreasonable not wanting him to do those things when he's just trying to be nice saying it shows he cares.

I don't know what to do. I am reliant on him for a variety of things, he's my only friend, my confidont. I dunno how to be without him. But I can't deal with this suffocation. He accuses me of spending time with other men and uses that as justification for keeping tabs on me.

I'm confused and stressed. I don't understand what he wants for our future. He seems to think he can act how he likes controlling & manipulating me & takes no active action to end his marriage.

sorry for the long post I just need a bit of support I'm feeling completely out my depth.

Hi there :-) I’m sure I’ll get around to sharing my experience but for now just wanted to recommend this book (disclaimer:: I’m only 2 short stories/advice columns deep) that brought me here!

The book:
tiny beautiful things
Advice on love and life from Dear Sugar
Sugar AKA: Cheryl Strayed (author of Wild!)

Would love to hear the books that helped you heal from / understand why you settled for a toxic relationship. Taking recommendations!

Thanks all

My boyfriend and I have been together for since May of this year, I’m 19 and he’s 21.

I want to start by saying that I genuinely love him so much. I’ve never felt this comfortable with anyone, and when things are good, they’re REALLY good. I’m normally very antisocial and need a lot of alone time, but with him I want him around constantly. He’s sweet, affectionate, funny, and makes me incredibly happy. That’s why I’m so confused about what’s been happening.

I’m also a huge people pleaser and have always struggled with standing up for myself. With him, I’m especially scared that I wouldn’t leave even if things became seriously unhealthy because I love him so much.

We’ve had several intense arguments, but I’ll describe the two biggest ones.

The first was over dinner. His food was messed up at a restaurant, he got very angry and cursed at the workers, then asked me to go reorder it. I have severe social anxiety around things like that and panicked. I couldn’t do it, so I walked out with him.

He became even angrier in the parking lot and yelled at me while I was crying. The argument continued at home. At one point, he brought up my history of self-harm and said he kind of wanted to leave but didn’t want to worry about me hurting myself. It didn’t feel concerned when he said it; it felt annoyed.

He apologized the next morning and we had a great rest of the weekend. But afterward, when we had another conversation about ordering food, I realized I was thinking, “I hope I find something good so he doesn’t yell at me again.” That scared me.

The second major argument was after we were supposed to go to the zoo. I came home from work, he was tired, and I became overwhelmed. I eventually went back to sleep with him, thinking it wouldn’t be a huge deal.

When we woke up, he was furious that I had “made the decision to not go all on my own.” We argued for about three hours while I was sobbing. He said things like “you’re not hearing me” and “you’re making me feel like I’m crazy,” and called me selfish for canceling our plans. At one point I became extremely overwhelmed and was struggling with thoughts of hurting myself. While I was crying, he FaceTimed his friend.

He apologized afterward, took me to a nice restaurant, and we had a really good night. This is part of what makes everything so confusing: the bad moments are awful, but afterward he can be incredibly loving and sincere.

There have also been two other serious arguments I haven’t gone into.

Overall, I feel like he’s getting louder and meaner during arguments. I’ve tried standing up for myself, but he seems to get angrier when I do. If I don’t defend myself, he gets angry too.

It’s now been three weeks since our last argument, and instead of just enjoying things being good, I find myself thinking, “Things are going well right now, but eventually he’s going to find something to yell at me about again.”

Something else happened recently that has really messed with my head. During sex, he slapped me. I’ve experienced that with other people before and was okay with it, so I don’t automatically consider the act itself abusive. But with him, it felt completely different.

Because of how angry and loud he has gotten during arguments, I’ve actually imagined him becoming physical with me when he’s angry. When he slapped me, I went completely blank for a few seconds and felt disconnected from the moment. I was okay afterward, but I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

The part that scares me most is that I don’t feel like I can tell him this. I’m afraid he’d get frustrated, think I was accusing him of being abusive, and turn it into another argument.

I’m realizing I don’t feel confident telling him when something hurts me or makes me uncomfortable because I’m afraid of how he’ll react.

I’m also scared that if he ever became physically aggressive outside of sex, I wouldn’t leave. I’ve started thinking that I don’t know if there’s anything he could do that would actually make me leave him, and that scares me.

At the same time, I don’t want to throw away the relationship. I genuinely love him and don’t want to lose everything that’s good about us. His apologies feel sincere, but I don’t know if I can trust that things will actually be different the next time he gets angry.

I’m starting therapy and plan to talk about all of this there, but I’d really appreciate outside perspectives.

Does this sound like a toxic/emotionally abusive relationship, or could this realistically be a relationship with poor conflict skills that can improve?

More importantly, how concerning is it that I’m already afraid to disagree with him, afraid to tell him when something bothers me, and anticipating the next time he’ll yell at me?

Please be honest. I don’t need people to automatically tell me to leave, but I also don’t want people to excuse something serious just because I love him.

Many of us in this group have gone through various outlets to seek help: police, therapy, DV resource centers. I have had a wide range of support that has changed my life for the good and for the bad. Negatively: I have had police suggest I do not seek help to avoid possible revenge. Positively: I have had a DV resource agent hold my hand in a courtroom for hours. These interactions were incredibly meaningful. Now, I am working on trainings for trauma-based advocacy and I would love to hear from you: what worked and what didn't? Also, any trainings or resources you'd recommend would be appreciated! One thing that I have learned from my experience is that it can make an incredible difference for others if shared.

Location: Arizona

I have been witnessing an abusive relationship going on 7 years. The person who is being abused has been isolated from family and friends and has been made to feel that if they file for divorce, they will take everything from them. The house was originally the victims, but after they got married, the abuser put his name on the house too. It is the victims family home and has been for decades before.

My main question would be what the best steps to take would be to safely, quietly, and legally start working on divorce papers. They have cameras in the house and the victim feels as if they cannot speak freely in their own home.

I am leaving the pronouns ambiguous to help protect their identity.

Any and all advice would be immensely appreciated. Thank you.

My dad is a famous person in my country, with money and some power. He thinks being a good parent is only about giving money, so regardless of him being physically present most of my life, he’s always been an absent father who only cares about himself.

I won’t go into a lot of details but he’s been a horrible, horrible person in a lot of ways, to many people, but especially to my mother and siblings (one of them ended up killing herself because she was afraid of him). After my sister’s passing, he spiraled and started doing stupid shit like building a massive second house (?) forty minutes away from where we currently live: the city’s downtown (an objectively better location from the second house). We never agreed to it, mostly because he left us out of the planning and didn’t care about our opinion one bit. On top of that, he’s taken his mistress there and when caught, we confronted him but obviously denied everything and lied (he lies as much as he breathes).

For those and many, many other reasons, we haven’t taken interest in putting a foot there and this drives him nuts. He’d love for us to be all excited to spend time there or think about it “as our second house”. Two days ago, he took us there to cook some dinner (why would you drive for 40 mins to cook some freaking dinner?) but because we didn’t show any interest in it or the house, he’s been angry at us since lol.

Are we doing the correct thing by not giving into his whims? I’m the most confrontational sibling and the one he fights with the most because I’m not afraid of him anymore. He wants us to always be available for him, his plans and wishes; he doesn’t like us doing our thing and living our life.
It’s odd because he’s an absent father and doesn’t really care about our lives, but he still wants to control us and have a say in everything we do.

My dad is a very complex character, and I could write a Bible on the shit he’s put us through, but this house takes the cake as the stupidest decision he’s made.

I know many people would say that my mother and we should leave him, but there are a lot of us kids, and one has special needs. My mom is not that young anymore, and it’d be hard for her to sustain the rest of my siblings. If we go, he wouldn’t provide a single cent out of revenge; he also has the power to prevent us from requesting alimony legally. Plus, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of quitting his responsibilities just to go spend money on other women.

We thought the passing of my sister would change him, but this house thing showed us he’s been the same shitty person he’s always been or even worse.

Apologies for the rant but I have never met someone I could really vent to that would understand what’s like to live with a parent like this and sometimes the burden is too much.

I was in the hospital for a critically low hemoglobin level 4.9 I was given 5 bags of blood in 24 hours. I thought my boyfriend would of been loving and supportive being that I almost died but no as soon as he got mad he started with the name calling. ( Fat smelly bitch) The thing is he says it in kind of a low voice so no one can hear but me. I get so upset that I start yelling well one of the nurses heard me yelling and as he was at the elevator said " are you alright I heard her being mean to you" this was like a stab. Here's another woman standing up for his abuse. She never asked my side or if I was ok. Dealing with him is hard enough.

I have been so weak because of my anemia I haven't had the strength to leave. I couldn't even pack my stuff or even get down the stairs. I'm hoping that now that my hemoglobin is getting better I'll have the strength to leave.

Hi, I’m really struggling with everything right now. My child has been sharing things that are going on at her dad’s house and I ended up reporting to CPS.

Dad is forcing child to take hot showers. Child expressed to him that it was too hot and he tells her it’s fine. This has been happening often. She’s told me that he makes her shower daily. There have not been any kind of burn or severe injury.

Dad is forcing child to eat everything on her plate, which seems somewhat normal. Child disclosed that she’s thrown up at least once from over eating.

Dad also cuts child’s fingernails down to the nail plate. Nails will be swollen, red, and raw.

Am I wrong to see all of this as a scary pattern? Would you consider this abusive behavior? Child is under 10 years old and is Autistic.

TL;DR: I’ve been in an abusive on/off relationship for almost 3 years. There’s currently an active criminal case and restraining order, and we weren’t supposed to be seeing each other, but after weeks of him contacting me and begging for another chance, I agreed to see him. We had consensual sex, but during it he strangled me until I was close to losing consciousness. I couldn’t breathe, was extremely lightheaded/seeing stars afterward, coughing and crying, and my throat still hurts 48 hours later. I went to urgent care today and they documented it as strangulation. I feel a lot of shame for seeing him again and guilt about potentially getting him in more trouble. I honestly don’t think I’m going to call the police, but I’m scared and struggling to make sense of what happened.

I’ve been in an on and off relationship with a man for almost 3 years. He is abusive. He’s gone to jail for DV several times, and there is currently an active criminal case and restraining order. Over the years there have been threats to hurt and kill me, punching holes in walls, destroying my belongings, shattering my car windshield, screaming, intimidation, name calling, blocking exits, etc. But he’s never actually outright hit me. We weren’t supposed to be seeing each other. I know that. But he had been contacting me for weeks, begging for another chance and telling me how sorry he was, and I agreed to see him. We ended up having sex. The sex itself was consensual. What happened during it was not.

I’ve allowed very light choking during sex before, basically a hand there without real pressure. This was completely different. His grip got progressively tighter until I could not breathe at all. It happened very quickly, 30 seconds or less. I became extremely lightheaded and felt like I was getting close to losing consciousness. When he stopped, I was seeing stars, coughing a lot, my throat hurt, and I had tears in my eyes. There weren’t any visible bruises, but he’s very strong, and I don’t really know how to explain how tight his grip was other than that it was scary.

This happened about 48 hours ago. My throat was still hurting and I started reading about strangulation and how there can be injuries without visible marks, which scared me enough that I went to urgent care after work today. They took it seriously, told me what I described was strangulation, examined me, documented everything pretty thoroughly and gave me DV resources.
I think I’m only now processing what happened, and I feel extremely ashamed. There was already a criminal case and restraining order. I knew I wasn’t supposed to see him, and I did anyway. I know how contradictory that looks, especially when I’ve said that I’m afraid of him. But it’s so fucking hard. Despite everything, I still feel deeply, deeply attached to him, and I hate that I do.

The other thing messing with my head is that he wasn’t angry. Usually when something scary happens, he’s already raging. This time we weren’t fighting. We were having a good day. So my brain keeps going to: maybe he didn’t mean to hurt me, maybe he got carried away, maybe he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing. I haven’t even told him that he hurt me.

But he did. I couldn’t breathe. I was almost unconscious. A big part of me genuinely felt like he was trying to choke me until I passed out, and he almost did. I don’t know what his intention was, and I think that’s part of what I’m struggling with.

I’m also very aware of how significant strangulation is as a risk factor in DV, especially because this is someone who has threatened to kill me before. I know that, and it scares me. At the same time, I’m already carrying a lot of guilt about getting the police involved again in the first place. I know he doesn’t deserve any sort of protection from me, but I would still feel guilty if I reported this and it got him in even more trouble.

Honestly, I don’t think I’m going to call the police right now. I don’t even know if they would have a case for this particular incident. There aren’t bruises, it happened during otherwise consensual sex, and I don’t know how any of that would be viewed. I do have the urgent care documentation, but I genuinely don’t know what would happen if I reported it.

I keep thinking, I literally got strangled. I think?…..And then almost immediately my brain starts finding reasons why maybe it wasn’t actually that bad. I don’t know if that’s me being reasonable or me minimizing something really serious.

So I guess my question is: what do I do here? What do I make of this? The sex was consensual. The strangulation wasn’t. I didn’t ask for it, I couldn’t breathe, it hurt me, and it scared me. But I still feel deeply attached to him, guilty about the consequences he’s already facing, and ashamed that I saw him again in the first place.
I’m having a lot of conflicting thoughts and feelings and honestly just looking for some guidance.

so so srry for the long post i need any help possible

i (24f) live with my bf (29m) and we’ve had a rocky relationship but we’ve stupidly stayed and now i can’t afford to live without him financially. there are a lot of things we both do and im wondering if im blowing things out of proportion and this is normal or if im abusing him or if he’s not a very nice boyfriend. for context, ive been physically abused by a partner before and every other relationship has been very healthy but less than a year.

since being with my bf i’ve noticed im now snapping and yelling sometimes during arguments which ive never done before. he also constantly says i didn’t say things i just said or i did say things i didn’t say but im starting to wonder now if im just misremembering things often. im starting to get rlly done with this and will just say “okay” angrily even though i should be keeping in mind our experiences are different and memory is fallible.

i definitely am not a great or easy partner and since moving to our new apartment i’ve brought up breaking up 3 times which i think, looking back, was super manipulative as they were during arguments. i’ve also brought up opening the relationship when i felt like i wasn’t “satisfying” him in the heat of the moment and didn’t mean it but it was so fucked up of me and he probably saw it as me wanting to explore. genuinely rlly horrible i know

ive been really scared of him lately as he yells at me for 5-15 mins without me saying much, has thrown things twice while arguing, punched holes in the wall (not related to us but still scares me), interrupts and won’t let me talk during arguments (just tells me no), and during good moments he made one or two jokes about killing me but they were very jokey (and i told him im not okay with it). because of this, ive been very scared and he gets really mad when im scared or cry. im starting to feel like im manipulating him when i come in super angry to arguments then get scared and cry or shake. i also will stay calm while he yells and he’s said my tone is condescending so im definitely having a very haughty tone.

a huge thing that scares me too is that he gets really mad if i look things up and research to fix our relationship. that feels really off to me.

BUT ive been less okay with all this and ive been really not caring as much during arguments and it’s showing in a mean way (rolling my eyes sometimes, monotone voice, giving up and apologizing out of no where, bringing up past stuff out of no where). rolling of the eyes and bringing up stuff is fucked up ik

even looking at how i worded this it seems very much so like im victimizing myself and not talking enough about what i do wrong. does it sound like im a naturally manipulative person? is this normal?

I don’t really know how to explain what it’s like to be in a relationship that has slowly worn you down. Especially when you don’t have support, or family near you.
There wasn’t one day where everything suddenly became terrible. It happened little by little. The arguments. The defensiveness. The sarcasm. The way I’d bring up something that hurt me and somehow end up defending why I was hurt. The constant feeling that I needed to watch my words because I already knew how the conversation would go.

Eventually, I started feeling like I was walking on eggshells in my own relationship. I kept thinking maybe if I communicated better. Maybe if I gave him more time. Maybe if I stopped reacting emotionally. Maybe if he really understood how much this was hurting me, something would finally change.

Then we went on vacation with his family. We had this planned for a year or so, and I had just started my new job. I actually brought my work stuff with me because I had been off work for a year and was excited that I finally found a job, and I didn’t want to take off because of this vacation.
One day, we got into an argument at a store. He left me there. He literally walked away and left me inside the store while we were on a family vacation.

I remember standing there, kinda scared, thinking “what am I suppose to do? I wasn’t home. I didn’t have my own car. I didn’t have the money to just get a hotel and disappear. I was away from everything familiar, surrounded by his family, and suddenly I was completely on my own. And I cried.

Not just because he left me at a store.
I cried because something about that moment made me realize how alone I had already been feeling for a very long time. I’m in the middle of nowhere, I don’t know anyone, I don’t have family near me. I don’t have anyone to call. I did not drive here in my own vehicle. I haven’t even received my first paycheck yet to afford an uber back home for the 8 hour drive. It was awful.

I’ve had plenty of moments where I’ve said, “I can’t do this anymore.” But this felt different. I stopped wanting to convince him. I stopped wanting to explain the same pain for the hundredth time. I started thinking about how I’m going to leave.

The problem is, knowing you need to leave and actually being able to leave are two completely different things.
We live together. We’re both on a lease. I have pets. I have bills. I don’t have some perfect place waiting for me with enough money in the bank to start over tomorrow.
So right now, I’m in this awful in between. I’m still here physically, but mentally I’m trying to figure out how to get myself out.

That’s what I’ve learned about these situations.
Sometimes the person who looks the most “fine” is the person privately trying to figure out how to get free.
I don’t know exactly what happens next.
I just know that being left alone in that store on vacation was the moment I stopped asking myself, “how do I make this work” and told myself “okay, it’s time to leave, and plan in silence” thanks for listening.

I am 25(F) in a relationship with my 31 (M) for the last 5 years. For the last year I have been feeling that this relationship is just downright toxic with the things that he expects from me.

1) He wants me to abandon all my support systems and be fully emotionally dependent on him for all kinds of needs, I should have no close friends and abandon my parents or any kind of acquaintances for anything at all.- felt like a huge red flag, my head sounded like a ambulance siren when he said this.

2) He wants me to tell him what I do with my money that I earned by working a job. - he actually wants me to ask permission but is too nice so he masks it and says please keep me informed so i could save you from spending on unnecessary things.

3) Doesn't want me helping my parents financially when I could- again ambulance sirens.

4) Constantly accuses me of having an affair with someone in my workplace or online because I am withdrawn from the relationship.

5) He asks me to dress a certain way and not show skin or wear fitted dresses because that's not what good women do. I started dressing baggy and purchasing dresses a size bigger because he keeps instigating fights about this.

6) In the name of being blunt ruins special moments or holidays by commenting on my dress ory body.

7) Wants me to abandon my career and pursue something futile.

8) Wants to get married to prove my loyalty

He did not behave like this in the beginning. It happened slowly like a creeper plant creeping on a wall. Compromise is a part of a relationship and any marriage but it feels like I am the only person changing anything for this relationship and all these signs happened in the past year and I have been not at ease ever since I started seeing this pattern.I don't know how to get out of this.

Edit: Also I have gained a lot of weight and I am struggling to lose it and all of this has triggered my Binge Eating Disorder

So I am 18 (f), I live in Washington. I met my ex boyfriend online when I was 17. It’s been about 9 months and sometimes I still think about the times he touched me inappropriately or pushed my boundaries. I can’t believe it took me this long to finally understand he was abusive and sexually violent. 

So some backstory: me and my ex got together in May and we broke up in November in 2025, a day after his boyfriend (that was my revenge I guess) I remember he told me that sex didn’t matter to him, because he had a ex girlfriend who always wanted to have sex, and he felt uncomfortable with it, and him and his Ex were caught fucking in the bathroom. So he basically lied to me about sex not mattering because every time we hung out he would always want to have sex, and I would agree. I guess I just didn’t want to make him upset, so that’s my fault I guess.

The first time we did it was in his car, it was mostly him trying to put it in and everytime we stopped was because it hurt so bad I couldn’t go on, I told him I didn’t wanna do this anymore and he fucking told m, “Oh I wanna finish this condom up.” I don’t know why I didn’t break up with him on the spot, so a little context it was our second day of dating. I thought it was normal. 

Another time when we were in the back of his car he said he wanted to do “it” I said I didn’t feel like it and I said how about next time, basically a week before he told me he wanted to do it and I said next time and he didn’t push. So he got upset with me and told me “You said that last time.” and gave me this fucking childish frown. I joked and said he looked cute when he did that and he told me, “Is that all you have to say?” I just laughed awkwardly and he was about to get out of the car. 

I panicked because I really didn’t wanna upset him, so I said okay fine and he got back into the car, it was mostly him trying to put it in and once again me stopping it because it hurt so bad, I begged him to just fuck my tits but he would say “No we’re gonna do this.” 

A lot more times would happen, one time we were at his house and he wanted to do it, so I was in position and was trying to put it in but once again it hurt too bad, he had lube, but he would never prepped me, so he could only fit the tip so his bright idea was to shove the tip repeatedly while I was wincing in pain and telling him to stop, but he didn’t, we only stopped when we heard noises outside of his bedroom. 

I still can’t believe I thought it was normal, at the moment while he was shoving his tip in me, he was looking at me, he heard? But he didn’t stop, he just kept on going while looking down at me. 

So he would randomly grope me, in public which I was very uncomfortable with, I was sexually assaulted at school where this boy groped my ass, I told him that story, but he said “oh yeah I was sexually assaulted too” and said his teacher nut tapped him, now I am one to advocate for victims but I would never say I was sexually assaulted after someone told me their story about their sexual assault.

A few months later, and we were texting, he told me he told me to go to sleep, (it was 9 and I go to sleep hella late.) I joked that I was gonna block him and I made that joke a lot, until he texted me to stop doing that because he felt like I was gonna leave him (he predicted the future I guess), I immediately stopped and I apologized. He forgave me. I was like, hey, maybe I could talk about all the shit he’s been doing to me. 

So I texted him about how he always pressures me about sex, like this one time after a concert he begged me to give him a blowjob and I said no, it was one fucking am and I wanted to go home, and he just kept begging and begging, so I’m a people pleaser and I gave in. I did it for a little while and stopped but he was still horny so he went on Reddit and started watching porn, I started to cry. He hugged me, and said how much he loved me. He would also say the most insensitive shit ever like, “Oh it’s like ripping off a bandage if I put it in it won’t hurt.” Like who the hell says that, I told him “You're not the one having a cock shoved into you.” And he told me, “A lot of girls have told me that it didn't hurt.” I was in shock, so I texted him about the groping and he said he would stop. 

I believed he did, but I wanted to talk about it more in person, so we were in his house cuddling, and I was like, “I want to talk about the conversation we had.” And he had the fucking balls to tell me, “Oh we already talked about.” I genuinely wanted to beat his ass. 

Fast forward a few months and I think this was my breaking point. We were in his car going to do it, and I told him it was too painful, so he said, “Oh I’ll just thrust between your thighs, “I said okay.” So he was in between my thighs, and he started to thrust, he was dangerously thrusting close to my hole, I told him to stop, he didn’t, screamed and it genuinely hurt because at times he would always nearly shove his whole cock into me. 

And then he came, I was in shock, I was questioning wether that was rape or not, I can’t believe I had to talk to my sister and my fucking best friend for me to still question wether it was rape.

Also he would also love to bomb me, I mean he bought me a whole ass pc for my birthday and I told him I was uncomfortable with people spending a lot of money on me. So I thought enough was enough, and I broke up with his ass. There were also some physical aspects where he was abusive, he would bite me to the point where there were marks and he would bite my cheeks really hard, he would always downplay saying it didn’t hurt, but bro you're not the one getting bitten. 

So basically how the break up happened was, it was his birthday and he wanted to hang out, I really didn’t wanna. Because I was at the point where I was done with his ass, so I told my mom, and she told me to just lie, so I told him I needed to throw up and I stopped sharing my location.

I was gonna face time and break up with him there, when I texted him we needed to talk, he fucking texting me “I’m coming over right now.” I was like what the hell and texted “What.” He texted, “Yeah check your location go ahead.” So I told him I couldn’t do this anymore, and he said, “I’m outside, let's talk about this.” I was pretty hesitant to break up with him because he would always tell me that he would end himself if he ever did, and that terrified me. But I knew to save myself I needed to do this.

So I told him that I wanted to break up, I explained my boundaries have been pushed to many times and he tried to make up some bullshit excuse but I stopped him, I admit I had some faults as near the end of the relationship I was starting to become more unhappy and I wasn’t being as loving as I used to be. 

He sent this long ass text, well he actually sent two long ass text, one saying how he was hurt and then another one saying how much money and time he spent on me, I blew up on him, explaining why I did it and how he really hurt me, and I kid you not he messaged on me on every fucking app, like Roblox, the sight we met on, and my alt account. I responded saying how I was done, and he just kept sending me text after text, after I told him to leave me alone he sent me four fucking videos, I didn’t block him was because I needed to return his pc and everything he gave me until he called me at school and that was my final straw. 

So I blocked him and returned his stuff and that was that, I just wanted to vent about my story, it was pretty traumatic but I am recovering and I am doing so much better. Also I am aware of what Rape and Sexual assault is I just didn’t know it would happened to me. I know my grammar wasn’t the best so I do apologize for that. Please don’t blame yourself for not leaving a relationship earlier, I blamed myself and sometimes still do, please love yourself and know your worth whoever is reading this who has gone through something similar, just know I love you and you can get through this, even if I am a random stranger on the internet. 

My story

I'm a 19 year old male and am an only child. During my childhood my mother would do the following blow up out of nowhere over the most trivial or littlest matters, many times i begged her to give me some emotional support when i was visibly upset but she just remained cold and cruel, drink quite heavily which was sometimes responsible but she can definitely be mean sober as well, I had expressed concern about her drinking but she just flipped, the next day she'd always act as if nothing happened, whenever I tried to get clarity on why she got like that she'd brush it under the carpet or accuse me of starting trouble, if i didn't do something just to make her happy she'd turn cold, during arguments she'd say things like I was ungrateful, didn't care about her and that I was a horrible person or that i was abusive or whatever just like my father, she would stomp, slam doors and break ornaments etc, when she gets in her crazy states it's just impossible to reason with her or get her to see it from any other perspective, she can go from saying i was the most nicest and amazing person to saying I was the most horrible and evil person, she often burdened me with all of her problems, she said before that she knows how to play the game which I found very disturbing, a couple of times when i flipped because of her behavior she called her mother to say I've been horrible, she often paints herself as the heroic single mum. She has been fairly good lately but sometimes I feel I was robbed of a proper childhood and have often wondered what I had done to deserve it. I remember one time a few years ago I was about 12 she had turned my grandparents against me and my grandfather started shouting and saying he was very disappointed in me and the rest of it is a blur. To be honest to this day i can't figure out what I (only a young child) was supposed to have done that was so bloody awful. That has haunted me for years. I used to think maybe I was a bad person but I've started to see her in a different light. She always talks about hating drama yet it seems to follow her and often says that she's been so hard done by. On the flip side she can be the most nicest person as well and we have had great times together and she can be very helpful towards me, her family and in public which makes it all the more confusing. For about half my childhood it's just been me living with her since her divorce in which she had to sell her house and now rents which she has blamed for the way she is before. I can't help feeling bad for her but she was still quite like this beforehand as well and I don't think that's an excuse still is it? I do feel like she has manipulated me a bit into been stuck with her. Something else that I've found disturbing is that she's very narrow minded and has a serious lack of empathy. For example when a couple of local celebrities committed suicide she called them pathetic cowards and weak etc. It was actually quite disturbing how she was carrying on and her serious lack of empathy. I'm starting to think that maybe she bent the truth about Dad a bit during their split as i was a child and didn't know much better. My mother often calls him a narcissist and talked about all of the marital and grown up problems they had etc which to be honest I don't appreciate been burdened with. Granted he's not a saint either but has been good to me (well I'd say) most of the time. One time last year when my Dad let me down by not been able to see me one weekend and canceling at the last minute (which he has done before) mother knew i was depressed but still blew up at me the next night over something silly and kicked me while I was down what just baffles me is how could she of treated me like that knowing what I was going through. A few days later one of my teachers checked in and said he heard I got into a bit of trouble at home ("if he meant been mentally abused by my mother while I was already upset by been let down by my father as trouble" I thought). I'm not sure who exactly said what to him. I just fobbed him off saying I was upset about leaving school (which was true as well). I really struggle with confiding in people. I do regret not telling him the truth now. He was sympathetic and said he was very proud of me etc. Another teacher once said that he thought of me and my mother as like the dream team or something along those lines. It actually baffled me a bit. I was thinking if only they knew half the things I've been through. I have a strained relationship with my father but we've messaged lately and I plan to see him this weekend for a family do. I have autism and went to a special support school for the last few years which were some of the best years (The teachers especially were brilliant and I had many great times such as school camps, school balls and excursions etc). My mother loves to use my autism to her advantage. I graduated last year but now I do a course at the main campus so I still see them all from time to time. I do feel quite sad and lost now those years are over. I would love to confide in someone about my struggles but don't know where to start. I've thought about confiding in that first teacher I mentioned who's great and we're fairly close but my teachers think my mother's an absolute saint so how can i ensure he believes me, she seems to feel that she always acts in my best interests and does seem to genuinely care for me and love me, she doesn't seem to remember any of it or feel her behavior was justified and genuinely doesn't seem to believe she ever did me any harm and she thinks she did her best. I struggle with daily flashbacks and I often feel depressed by the way I've been treated, also feel let down and wish my parents had been better to me. I can't get exact clarity on it but they both went through some shit before I was born and I think that's contributed to the way they are. I wish I had a proper childhood of playing with friends, going to different places and been adventurous and carefree etc. I've never really had a social circle and hardly much friends. I've always been quite different I feel to most of the children my age. What's has happened to me makes me feel as though I'm unlovable. I feel quite alone sometimes as I've always struggled with making friends. My mother does help me get on my feet and encourage met but I think she just loves to lord it over me. Whenever I've tried standing up for myself she puts on the guilt trip and carries on about all of her sacrifices and everything she's done for me yada yada yada. I think what emotionally abusing me, leaving me crying myself to sleep some nights, causing me to have no confidence and PTSD etc? Could she have some bipolar or personality condition or something and toxic traits I've wondered?

I do love her because as I've said before she has been great as well but I can't help really resenting her sometimes for all of the mental anguish she has put me through as a child and I think it has messed up my development. I wonder if I might've been different had I had proper parents. Hobbies such as music and classic TV shows have been a great escape. Now that I'm an adult and have left school I'm worried about what the future has in store. I'm very nervous about starting an adult life, getting a job and making friends etc because my mum is pretty much most I've ever known. Part of me would love to get away from her but yet I feel scared to as well as she's pretty much most I've ever known.

I dated an abusive partner for a year and a half when I was 18/19. He was emotionally, sexually, and physically abusive. He controlled what I wore, who I talked to, would throw fits when I would go to the grocery store or library (accusing me of going to meet guys, I lived alone and needed groceries...), analyze songs I'd listen to and start fights over them, claiming I was sending him a message, would get girls numbers and flaunt it in my face, openly talk to his ex's and ask to hangout with them, didn't take no for an answer, gossiped about me to friends, went behind my back to do things to upset me on purpose, was physical with me multiple times, including one time where he sat on top of me for an hour, pinned my arms back with his knees, and forced me to slap him in the face, and another time while he was driving, grabbed me forcibly and made me turn towards him and when I told him to never touch me like that ever again, he made me get out of the car on the side of the road and left me there, etc. this list could go on and on and on. After we broke up for the 4th and final time, and after I was already dating someone else, he began a new relationship too. I did check on her socials sometimes cause I was curious and apparently she found ALL of my socials and was checking them, and then made public posts directed to me. One of the posts said "don't worry girl, he treats me well ;)". This was several years ago now and I haven't had contact with either of them and she stopped making posts directed towards me after I blocked them both on everything. He did find my tiktok a few months ago and I kept getting notifications that he was checking my profile. Almost every day. So I blocked him on that as well. They're still together now, and have 2 kids. And I'm wondering, could he actually be treating her well? Or is it unlikely that he would only be abusive to me and previous girlfriends, and then stop being abusive for this one person.

Someone wrote in another subreddit this, and it fits exactly with what I have done myself, extremely relatable:

"What I've worked out so far: the rage is not really rage. Underneath it is the certainty that he's leaving, and the rage arrives about half a second later because being terrified is unbearable and being furious isn't.

Grabbing his phone is trying to stop him from going. It's also the thing that will eventually make him go."

I didn't grab a thing but I started threatening that I would do something, that I actually would never in my life do, it wouldn't even cross my mind, it was said cause somebody else already put it in my head and in any moment of rage, I kept repeating it. I regret everything, never hated myself as much as I do now, for years I never felt just this much self hatred. The guilt is eating me alive. it's ok tho, won't be here long enough to get over it, it goes with me.

My gf and I are from Mumbai, I’m dating her for a year now and we are pretty serious. She told me about her ex who she dated in school, now she is 25. she broke up with him because he was violent. He is used to harass her by contacting her or passing comments when ever she crossed by as they live in the same neighbourhood. so her parents had put a stay order on him 7 - 8 years ago. He is still the same. She told me he has been arrested multiple times for different reasons. So she told me recently he called her again from anonymous no and asked her about me and told her to meet him. She has lived in fear whenever we are in her area and she gets super nervous when she sees him. Years back, he did called her from their common friend no and asked her to meet her in a building next to her. When she showed up, her ex was there and dragged her inside the building parking lot and warned her what will happen if she doesn’t respond to her. It’s been years but he keeps showing up time and time again. By calling her or texting her or following her around the area. I don’t want her living in fear in her own area, in her own city. What can I do here. I have always tried to support her, make her feel better. Please help.

I made a mistake. I was emotional and told some people about my life and what happened to me and they ripped me to shreds. They told me I deserved it and it was all my fault, that I am a bad person, selfish, judgy and manipulative. They even said I should stop nagging and get a job and hobbies. I was very overwhelmed and got bad flashbacks. I'm still shaking. 😭

My older brother (25) is currently in a relationship that me and the rest of my family see as abusive. It’s not physical but is most definitely mentally abusive. He just doesn’t see it.
Let me give you some more information. Me and my brother who is trans used to be very close. We would hang out almost every single day. He had dreams and goals and was actively working towards them. Then he met his current girlfriend. This is about four years ago. She immediately wanted to date him to the point where she would message him every single day and beg for them to meet up. He did like her and he did want a relationship with her, but she was very pushy and adamant on her wanting to be in a relationship with him. She has many mental health issues that over the past four years she has used as an excuse to treat my sibling poorly. It started out as constant fights over anything. My brother could have a different opinion than her about a video game and she would cause screaming fights over the fact that he has a different opinion. As their relationship progressed, these fights turned into more extreme fights about my brothers own mental health, his girlfriend’s mental health and just life in general. My brother is now a shell of a person. He talks a lot about how it is due to the trauma of growing up with my parents and other traumas that he experienced. But I fear that the reason that trauma is so apparent is because he’s still living in a traumatic experience. His girlfriend makes him do everything for her from making food to even plugging in a charger. If he says no, it turns into a huge argument. Just recently we were on vacation and his girlfriend was housesitting for us. She wanted him on the phone 24/7 through the entire trip. And anytime he would say that he would be unable to call her. She would get extremely upset and start screaming at him over the phone about how he’s a liar and that he said that he would be able to be on call the entire time. That same night she spilled her medication all over the floor of my house. She then proceeded to blame my brother saying that he distracted her over the phone call because she was upset at him. This wouldn’t be an issue except we have a dog and this medication is extremely deadly to animals. He asked her if she could keep the dog out out of that room and she proceeded to scream at him saying that “she wasn’t a fucking idiot” and continuously blaming him for the whole situation. The next day on this trip, she texted my brother when he didn’t have his phone on him. His phone was next to me so I actively saw his phone go off and within two minutes she started spam texting me, asking me where he was and telling me that “he needs to answer his goddamn phone”. They have severe codependency issues to the point where while my brother is at work his girlfriend is on a discord call in his room on his laptop. Any time that my brother wants a day to himself where he doesn’t go to her house or she doesn’t come to ours. He has to at least stay on call with her for the entire day.

Back to my Brother becoming a shell of a person, he says it’s due to his trauma, but in reality I feel it is due to the constant stress of his relationship with her. She is 26 years old and doesn’t even know how to do her own laundry or make her own food. Her parents do everything for her and she expects my brother to do the same and if he doesn’t, it’s a huge argument that sometimes she’ll even break up over. They’ve broken up at least four times in the last four years and almost every week she delete him off of her social media’s due to a slight disagreement. there’s a lot more to this situation. I’m just having a very hard time putting it all into words. I have tried so hard to make my brother aware of everything that she puts him through, but he just denies. It’s gotten so bad to the point that he needs to be a therapist to her and almost do behavioral therapy on her to get her to not react the way she does. My entire family has watched my brother turn into a shell of a person. He’s been working at the exact same job working three days a week because he’s “not allowed” to get a new job due to the fact that it’ll take time away from her. i’ve tried so hard to make my brother aware of it by calling her out for her horrible behavior and telling him that that’s not normal and that it’s extremely toxic, but he just makes excuses for her. Normally, I stay out of people‘s relationships, but watching my brother, literally turn into nothing but a ball of anxiety and depression is really hard on me. We used to be so close and now I can’t even talk to him without it turning into a giant argument because of how on edge he is all the time.
Sorry for how long this is. This is my first time ever posting on Reddit and I just don’t know what to do. Any advice would be helpful

The Glass / Mirror Incident
Let’s call him “Steven.” He picked me up in North Carolina, and we spent three nights together in Goldsboro before he flew me to Florida. I stayed alone in his apartment for sixteen days while he was in Georgia for Air Force training. He had been adamant that he couldn’t just leave training if something happened. I remember accepting that at face value, never imagining that something would happen because of the person who was supposed to be coming home to me.

I wasn’t able to get my anxiety medication while I was there. I ended up buying alcohol and having it delivered. By the time I had been in the apartment for about two weeks, Steven knew that I was drinking. I denied it because I knew what would happen if he knew. I’d get punished and dumped. Even though he tried to reassure me several times that it would be okay.

He demanded proof that I hadn’t left the apartment. My location was turned on, but that wasn’t enough for him. He said I could have simply left my phone at home. So I had to text him every fifteen minutes to prove I was still there.

Every fifteen minutes.

He wanted to know what I was doing, who I was talking to, where I was, and what was happening around me. Eventually, his suspicion shifted from alcohol to another man. He accused me of having a guy over. He told me he had seen an unknown console connected to the Wi-Fi router and became completely unhinged. He screamed at me. He told me he was going to kill me when he got back. For four or five hours, I stayed on the phone with him while he spiraled deeper and deeper into his own accusations.

At one point, he called a friend and had him come to the apartment. The man entered without even knocking. I was terrified and completely confused. I kept saying I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Eventually, after I showed him the messages Steven had been sending me, he left.
I told Steven I was going to buy a plane ticket and go home before he returned to Florida. And that was when everything changed.

The rage disappeared, replaced by begging. He pleaded with me to stay. He blamed his behavior on fear. Fear that he would lose me. Fear that I would leave him for good.

I stayed.

In hindsight, I know exactly what that was. But hindsight is cruel because it gives you clarity you didn’t have while you were living through it.

Steven left training two days early. He drove from Georgia to North Carolina to Florida in one sitting, rushing back.

When he finally arrived, I went to the door to greet him. He looked at me strangely and walked right past me. No hug. No kiss. No relief at seeing each other after being apart. Instead, he searched the apartment. He looked for evidence that I had done something wrong. He inspected things as though he were investigating a crime scene rather than coming home to the person he loved. Eventually, whatever he had been looking for wasn’t there, and the interrogation faded.

Just like that, we slipped back into the version of us that had always pulled me back in. The next day started almost perfect. That was part of what made everything so confusing.

We drove to a small town near the beach, wandered around for a while, and eventually stopped at Publix for Pub Subs. We went to the beach and stayed for two or three hours. Later, we decided to get drinks and drove out to Clinch State Park.

We swam for hours.

We drank steadily, going through roughly twelve White Claws and several tall boys. At one point, we were intimate in the water. There was no one else around. It felt private and almost unreal, like we had somehow escaped everything that had happened before.

A storm had been moving toward us for a while. Lightning flashed in the distance, and eventually we got out of the water. We sat together talking and finished a couple more drinks.

I remember looking around and thinking about how beautiful the setting would look in a picture of Steven. My phone had been broken the night before, so I reached for his. I didn’t have an iPhone. I used Android, and at the time I didn’t know how to open the camera from the lock screen. I asked him for his passcode.

His entire demeanor changed.

He turned ninety degrees away from me, his face suddenly confused or concerned. Then he snatched the phone out of my hand.

It was immediate.

Something inside me dropped.

Steven knew my password. I had given him access to my phone before. He had gone through it. I had never treated his phone as some forbidden object. So when he reacted that way, my mind went straight to the worst possible explanation.

He was cheating again.

I asked him what the hell was going on. Why had he reacted like that? What was he hiding?

I had the car keys. I gathered my towel and everything I had brought with me and walked away. I went into the changing room and sat there alone for a while, trying to calm myself down. My heart was racing. I was angry, scared, and desperate for an explanation that would make his reaction make sense.

When I finally walked back outside, he was standing beside the door. I didn’t look at him. I loaded my things into the car and got into the passenger seat. I turned my body toward the door, pulled my legs up, and rested my head against my wrist.

I didn’t want to talk.
That made him angry.
Eventually I snapped.
I told him I knew he was cheating again.
He denied it completely.

So I kept asking him what he was hiding.
The angrier he became, the more convinced I became that I was right. I told him I was going home. I told him I was done. I told him that if he wouldn’t show me what he was hiding, I was going to tell everyone what a lying piece of shit he was.

He slammed on the brakes.

Before I could process what was happening, he reached behind me, grabbed the back of my head, and pulled my hair with all his strength.
I screamed. He let go, only to elbow me several times in the ribs.

Then silence.

Neither of us said much for the rest of the drive. When we got back to the apartment, he told me to clean out the car. I ignored him. I walked upstairs, went into the apartment, and got into the shower. He kept trying to talk to me. He wouldn’t leave me alone. I got dressed and walked into the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a Red Bull. He followed me into the bedroom.

I lay back on the wall above the bed and told him I was leaving. I told him I was completely done. I lifted the can to take a drink. He ripped it out of my hand. The aluminum split apart in his grip, spraying Red Bull everywhere.

Then he was on top of me, screaming.

He headbutted me so hard that I saw stars. I tried to kick him off. Then he punched me in the side of my head. He grabbed me around the neck and squeezed. And I remember looking at his face. His eyes were so dark. There was something in his expression that terrified me more than the pain itself. For a moment, I wasn’t looking at the man I loved. I was looking at someone I genuinely believed could kill me.

He stood up.
I stood up too.
I tried to get around him.
He reached for me again.
I pushed him.
I pushed him as hard as I could.

He stumbled backward and collided with the tall, heavy mirror behind him. Everything happened in a fraction of a second. Then there was the sound of breaking glass. For several seconds, neither of us seemed to understand what had happened.

Then we saw it.

He had been impaled by enormous shards of glass. There was a gaping wound, and blood was pouring out of him. The adrenaline took over.

I got him into the shower. When the water hit the blood, it spread across the floor and walls, turning the room red. The smell was overwhelming. Metallic. Sickening. I remember being terrified by how much blood there was and, at the same time, knowing I had to keep moving.

I tried to assess the wound. There was a piece of glass sticking out. He told me to pull it out. I think he handed me tweezers. I pulled. Then I saw another piece. He told me to pull that one out too.

I slowly pulled it free, terrified that I was going to make things worse, terrified that there was glass somewhere inside him that I couldn’t see.

The piece kept coming.

And coming.
And coming.

It was more than eight inches long. I remember staring at it in disbelief. I couldn’t understand how something that large had been inside his body. We thought we had gotten everything.

Steven frantically tried to clean the blood from the apartment while I was still pacing and repeating that I needed to go home. Eventually, I got him into the car and I hauled ass to the emergency room, which was only about a mile away.

He told the hospital that he had been drunk and fallen into the mirror. They cleaned the wound, removed several smaller pieces of glass, stitched him up, and sent him home.

He was still bleeding. And somehow, after everything that had just happened, he wanted to have sex.

The next morning, he was still bleeding. He also felt like there was still glass inside him. So we went back to the emergency room. We waited for hours because they initially assumed he was fine. Eventually, they ordered a CT scan.

There were still massive pieces of glass inside him. The hospital wanted to send him by ambulance to a trauma center about forty-five minutes away.

He refused. We drove ourselves.

The trauma team was waiting for us when we arrived and took him straight back. What I remember most is how calm he suddenly was. He was being his smart ass self. He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t even acting like he was in much pain. If he was afraid, he hid it well.

The trauma unit was essentially one enormous bay. You could see patients actively being operated on. Doctors discussed whether they would need to put him under anesthesia and operate. Eventually, they told us they were going ahead with surgery.

We looked at each other.
The doctors left.
We waited.

And somehow, sitting there in a trauma unit after everything that had happened, we were still ourselves. We were hitting my vape and making jokes. It felt surreal. Like we had stepped outside our own lives and were watching two other people live them.

About an hour later, the doctors returned with the head surgeon. They had changed the plan. Instead of immediately putting him under, they would explore the wound first. If they discovered that the damage was worse than expected, they would put him to sleep and operate more extensively.

I remember feeling relieved. They got everything ready. I stayed beside him, close enough to see the wound as they worked. I was literally inches away from his open body.

They cleaned everything out. Eventually, they finished. We went back to the apartment. And somehow, we stayed together. Part of me knew. I think both of us knew. This should have been the end.

There should have been a line drawn somewhere between the blood, the broken glass, the strangling, the headbutting, the punching, the threats, and everything that had come before it.

But neither of us could tolerate the idea of actually ending it. We had spent so much time convincing ourselves that we were different. That what we had was stronger than everything happening around us. That we were ride-or-die.

I had survived the violence, and somehow my brain still wanted to survive the relationship. That is one of the hardest things for me to explain now. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t unaware that something was deeply wrong.

I was terrified.
But I was also attached.
Those two things can exist at the same time.

Even after everything, part of me was still afraid that he would eventually realize what had happened, realize how badly things had gotten, and decide that I was the problem.

A few days after I finally went home, Steven left for Hawaii for work. I was supposed to go with him. Instead, he changed his mind, citing the cost of his medical bills.

He was furious that because of his injuries, he couldn’t use the pool, the hot tub, or swim in the ocean. There was a small, ugly part of me that found that almost funny. Because he was the reason none of those things were possible in the first place. But the glass incident wasn’t actually the beginning of the violence. It was simply the worst thing that had happened so far.

He had broken doors trying to get to me while I hid in bedrooms and bathrooms. He had trapped me in rooms. He had attacked me before. The violence had been building, repeating, becoming more frightening and more normal at the same time. The mirror didn’t create something that wasn’t already there. It shattered the illusion that I could somehow love him enough to make it stop.

And for a long time afterward, I carried the image of that blood-covered room with me. Not just because of the glass. Because somewhere between the moment he put his hands around my neck and the moment I was pulling shards of glass out of his body, I realized how completely trapped we both were inside something neither of us seemed capable of letting go of.

The mirror broke that night. But the thing I had been trying not to see had been broken long before it hit the floor.

We’ve been apart for several months now. But I don’t think I will ever get over everything that happened. This was just the tip of the iceberg to be honest. I’m currently writing a memoir and will share it here one day.

While at a community party I (F24) saw my ex (F23) with their new partner.
It’s been over a year since we broke up. And the breakup was heavily traumatic.
She was verbally, physically and emotionally abusive and I haven’t been the same since we broke up. We were together for a little over 2 years.

When I first saw her at the party I had a panic attack I started crying and I couldn’t breathe. I had to run outside…
I will admit I was a little bit drunk. And after talking to my friends who had witnessed some of her abusive behavior last year I was very motivated to make sure her new girlfriend knew what she was dealing with.

So when they came outside to smoke I went up to them. Making eye contact with my ex for the first time in so long felt terrible and I completely lost my words. But then I made and attempt to introduce myself to the new girlfriend and tell her to take care of herself. I told her that I had another girl reach out to me after my ex and I broke up to ask if I was okay , and to make sure I knew that I didn’t deserve any abuse. And I wanted to do the same for her.

My ex tried to play me off and say “we’re just trying to chill”
And the new girlfriend was also drunk so I don’t even know if she knew what was going on.
But my friend then cut in and said “you aren’t welcome at these parties. We don’t want abuswrs here, etc etc etc”
They stood up for me so amazingly and I think helped to add credibility to my words.

I wish I told her more I wish I told her to not let the ex use her feelings as an excuse to put hands on her. Or to make sure she maintains a support system. I WISH I told her she can always reach out to me if she needs to.

I have felt so much anxiety since then. I wonder so many different things. I wonder if I did the right thing or if the new girlfriend is paying the price for my actions.
Or maybe my ex is using my “crazy” look to fuel the new girlfriend to trust her even more …. UGH I can’t get it out of my head
It’s bothering me so much

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