We are taught not to touch fire, to look both ways before we cross the road and to never take a ride from a stranger - so why are we not taught about two words which have significantly impacted so many lives, two words which leave a hurt that can take years to heal - that is, if the person even realises there is a wound that needs healing?

I first learnt about emotional abuse, not during my marriage but in the days after I left. As I sat in my new home (a caravan on my parent’s driveway), I began to research the red flags of emotional abuse and realised I could tick off every box on the checklists. How had I been living a life as a victim of abuse and not even known? You may look at these same checklists and think “of course that is wrong!”. But the thing about emotional abuse is - it is silent, sneaking up on you, digging its claws in - so slowly that at first the pain is easy to manage, easy to brush off, easy to make excuses for until all of a sudden you begin to see that you are a shell of yourself, a person without joy, a person in so much pain that numbness has started to take over.

These blog-posts are about my story, the time in my life which completely challenged and changed me. Everyone has a story and unfortunately there are a lot of people who share a journey very similar to my own. You may resonate with some of what I say. You may have a different experience but understand some of the emotions attached to these words. You may be feeling stuck, screaming silently within a nightmare, unable to be woken up. I hope that my story not only helps bring to light a topic that is often kept in the dark, but that it gives you hope. Hope of living in freedom - the hope which saved my life.

My relationship began like so many do. I was almost 21 and had just met a guy who looked after me, bought me nice gifts, made me laugh and introduced me to his family. In those early days there were little things, that in looking back, I can see were warning signs of what was to come, but I was the girl who wanted to get married. I had dreams of a big wedding, having my own home, and kids and so those things that should have let me know I wasn’t being treated right got pushed aside. I made excuses for him. I told myself it would change, that we were just learning how to compromise and that this is what a ‘real, grown-up’ relationship was like. I really wanted us to work and so I committed to doing everything I could to make sure we didn’t fail. We dated for 3 years and then we got married and moved in together.

Ask someone what the early warning signs of their emotionally abusive relationship were and they will probably struggle to put it into words. I look back on the first few months of dating, even the first few years, and it’s blurry. There’s no specific moment or situation where it all started. What I can share with you are small moments in time. Things that stand out to me because I knew something wasn’t okay. What is important to note is that these examples, they do not stand alone. In relationships we all get things wrong. We are imperfect humans whose flaws and selfishness hurt one another. Emotional abuse for me was not a once off. It was the accumulation of manipulation and control that progressively got worse. Like the frog that’s in a pot of water on the stove - I didn’t know I was being hurt until it was too late.

Red Flags - Moments In Time:

- I remember very early on, before we were officially dating, when he asked me if I liked one of my of mates (for privacy reasons we will call him Matt). Matt was a guy I had grown up in school with - one of my best friends. He said he had noticed me laughing with Matt at one of the flat hang outs and questioned me on why I had such a good time hanging out with him. It turned into an argument and from then on I learned to watch myself - to be careful that I wasn’t talking to Matt one-on-one or having too much fun around him. And not just him - this happened with so many of my old friends, new friends, work colleagues and once even an extended family member. I constantly found I had to defend myself and in the end proving my loyalty meant giving up a lot of friendships.

- One day he showed me a picture of one of his friends - and told me I should dress more ‘girly’ like she did. I told him that it wasn’t me - that it wasn’t the style I liked to wear. But over time the comments of him telling me my op-shop clothes were weird hurt too much. I started sending him photos before I bought anything and thrift store shopping, something I loved to do, got pushed aside. I wanted him to approve, and in the end the way I looked changed to suit his preferences. No, he never told me what to wear, but he didn’t need to - the looks, the comments and the disapproving was enough.

- “Who are you trying to impress?” I got asked that quite a bit, before uni, work, or if going to an event he wasn’t going to be at. He questioned why I was wearing makeup, or certain items of clothing. I remember getting into a massive argument because he told me it wasn’t appropriate for me to buy a new bikini - that I shouldn’t be showing my body off to other men. I remember how frustrating this was, how constricted and how unheard I felt. There was never any room to reason and it always turned into an argument. In later years I just learnt to fit in with what I knew he expected to avoid the confrontation.

These few examples were all the beginning of the control he had over me. Despite normally being someone who was strong and who stood up for myself - I started to change to make sure he was happy. Looking back I do remember times when I knew something wasn’t right. I knew it wasn’t okay to be constantly fighting and always be in tears and have no one to talk to about it. I knew it wasn’t right to feel that tightening in my throat and have a heart that raced as I tried to think of the best way to make a situation right again. But I was stuck, I wasn’t able to think or see clearly. There were two times when I talked to him about breaking up but I never went through with it. I didn’t know I was being emotionally abused. I just believed relationships were hard work, I wanted to get married and I didn’t want to be the girl who failed.

It was one morning on our honeymoon when I vividly recall becoming aware of a feeling I hadn’t experienced before. We had a week left of holiday, and instead of feeling excited about days off to shop, eat out and relax, I felt a dread settle in to my stomach. I remember sitting on the side of the bed with slow tears running down my cheeks as I tried to form words to explain to him that marriage felt scary, and that for some reason, I was feeling lonely. That moment shaped the next three years of my life because instead of comforting me, instead of listening to me, trying to understand me, and make me safe, he looked at me and asked me if I didn’t love him. He asked me if I didn’t trust him. He made me feel that it was wrong to not only voice these thoughts, but to even feel them in the first place. That day I learnt to hide my true feelings. I learnt to lie. I learnt to say what I needed to say to ensure he didn’t think I was doubting our marriage. That was the first day I remember feeling completely trapped and from there it got so much worse.

So this is part one. The beginning of what became a very isolated, controlling and manipulative marriage. Writing this was difficult - because those years of dating seem like another lifetime ago. It’s hard to remember how it all started and how those three years before I got married progressed. For so much of it I was so focused on the ‘getting married’ part and I think I put a lot of my attention on that so I didn’t have to face the present. I also believe I had a naive expectation that things would change when we got married. That somehow the formality of getting married and moving in together would fix all the brokenness.

I am aware, that at this point, I haven’t spoken a lot about hope. And to be honest, I didn’t even realise that I needed hope. In life, I am the girl who runs at full speed. I am the girl who will always see the positive (in fact if you’ve done Strength Finders - ‘positivity’ is in my top five). I will give my everything and while that is a part of my character I am proud of, it can also be my weakness. Sometimes I am running without realising I have a massive weight chained to my ankle, and it’s only when I completely tire that I notice I wasn’t okay the whole time.

Soon I will be sharing ‘Part Two’ of my story. Unfortunately it does get worse before it gets better but I promise you there is hope (and if you want to see that hope in the flesh I share a lot of my life on my Instagram ‘The Mustard Jumper’).

One thing I do want to leave you with, something that I think is so incredibly important to someone who is being emotionally abused - is that I had a few people in my life who were constant. Despite not opening up to them about what was going on, and even at times pushing them away or blocking them out, I always knew they were there for me. To my family and my best friend Hanna - you saved my life. Thank you for never giving up on asking me if I was okay, even after I told you I was over and over again. Thank you for treating me like ‘old Danni’ - even when I changed. Thank you for giving me moments of laughter, moments when I could just let go and be me.

If you know you are a victim of abuse be aware of who those people are in your life. And if you know someone who is being abused - just be there for them. Often that is all you can do. In time, they will open up to you. In time they will need you.

Talk to you soon for ‘Part Two’,

Aroha nui,

Danni