Why I stayed in an Abusive Relationship so long......

This One Was Hard to Share

• Disclaimer: I’m not sugarcoating this. No filter. No surface-level gloss and I’m not walking on eggshells to protect the feelings of the wrong people. I want you to connect with the truth.

Why I Stayed in an Abusive Relationship So Long

It’s easy to ask this question—or to judge—when you’re not the one living it. There are so many reasons someone stays in an abusive relationship, and today I want to share my experience and what I took away from it.

Growing up, I watched my mom get abused by my stepfather. He was a narcissist—there are many kinds  but he was the broke, dumb kind. That’s kind of how I have always described  it. The kind of man who feels like a failure but is a mixture of in denial and to proud to ask for help, so instead he justifies everything, puts himself on a pedestal, and finds someone he can tear down enough to make them dependent on him. And this control feeds his fake sense of self-worth.

I saw this all play out as a kid. I was young, but I saw it very clear. He was all of the abusives… verbally, mentally,  emotionally —and physical. And the disrespect they showed each other was gross and always fueled by drugs and alcohol. Almost every single night was a fight. I heard him scream these 4 words at her  over and over and I will never forget—“bitch, c#nt, slut, whore”—in that exact order, like a script he knew would break her. Not to make her hate him, but to make her doubt herself.

She stayed. Because she had no self-worth. Because she depended on him for her lifestyle—drugs, survival—and she had no financial independence. No stable job, just food stamps and welfare. That was my example of womanhood. That was what “relationship” looked like to me. She stayed until the abuse quite literally killed her.

I was 23 when I got the call. A single-car crash late one Friday night. Probably caused from being under the influence.  She was ejected from the vehicle and died instantly. He suffered inside the car before he passed too. I have feelings about that I won’t say out loud.  Because You just  might judge me.

Watching her life taught me something: I would never allow that level of disrespect in my own relationships. And I would never let myself become financially dependent on someone.

Now I would not allow someone to disrespect me like that I was very disrespected and I became financially dependent.  In a completely different way.

The abuse I experienced was different.I’ve done a lot of reflecting on my past: when it was good, when it turned bad, what role I played in it, and when I abandoned myself.

In the beginning, there was a lot of love bombing. I was 23. Given the childhood I had, I thought I was doing pretty well. I was independent, building a career that I loved, standing on my own two feet. But….. I wasn’t perfect.

At the time I was married to my high school sweetheart. We’d been together almost 7 years, and married just a couple. Honestly, we never should’ve gotten married. It wasn’t for the right reasons—it was about his car insurance being cheaper. (Seriously, he loved muscle cars and marriage lowered the rates.)

For me I thought marriage meant I’d automatically become his top priority. But he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. Truth is, neither was I. I was craving something… more. I didn’t know what, I just knew I was lost and looking for something.

And here’s the part I will own: 

I cheated. 

I was a coward. 

I was young and it felt awful. 

The person I cheated with? He became the person I spent the next 20 years with.

Side note, My highschool sweetheart husband forgave me and we ended the marriage amicably and still respecting each other's life and relationships I believe we still care for one another as people that spent a growth period of our lives together and now we are happy for one another. 

I swore after that I would never cheat again.

The past 20 years? Honestly, they’re a big question mark for me now. It’s hard to explain because I’m still processing it all. I still get triggered. Little things pop up—memories, moments—and I find myself replaying events, questioning what was real and what was just part of the manipulation. I will say that I’m not hard on myself for not seeing the obvious or feel stupid that I let it go on for so long.  

I do want to walk you through the stages of abuse and narcissism—because if I explain where and how someone starts to lose their sense of self, their judgment, their intuition… maybe you’ll understand how a person could stay in an abusive relationship for so long and not see the things everyone else sees. 

Let’s start with: Love Bombing

This is how it begins. The abuser floods you with affection, compliments, and constant attention—texting, calling, planning—all to hook you emotionally and make you believe you’ve finally found “your person.” And when you’ve never really felt prioritized or seen before, it feels magical and  Addictive, 

At that point in my life, I was used to being an afterthought—In my childhood, bhind drugs, alcohol, new love interests and in my relationship behind friends, cars, motorcycles, and video games. Getting all of the attentionI thought, Finally, someone who thinks about me all day. All the sweet words I’d always craved? Text messages, phone calls,  I miss you-s

This was just the hook,

 Next came what’s called Future Faking.

For me, future faking sounded like a dream. It felt like something out of a life I didn’t even know I was allowed to want. Someone finally saw more in me than just being a convenience. Someone wanted to build something with me. A life. A partnership. And after a failed marriage that started with cheaper car insurance being the main motivator this felt like the real thing. I believed everything he told me because it sounded so good and I was locked in.  I thought I hit the jackpot. 

But once I was in, the script flipped.

He had me…Now it was time for status.  

We did build a life together—on the outside. We had nice homes, fancy cars, ... things I never even dreamed were possible. I didn’t really care about the material things. I wanted connection. Presence. Thoughtfulness. Time.  

 I lived in beautiful houses with no financial worries, yet I felt lonely and completely isolated.

His priority was no longer me or us. Now  It was  more. Bigger. Better. He was gone 10–14 hours a day, grinding for status: – Status in his industry – Status in what other people thought of him – Status in life

His ego inflated. And the more it grew, the smaller I became. I noticed the shift, but I justified it. I was living on the hope that the Love bombing would come back and That’s what manipulation does and you usually don’t even know it’s happening until you’re out of it. 

You can’t feel the web you’re in until you are able to step back and realize: damn, I wasn’t just caught in it—I was wrapped up, silenced, and spun into it.

Narcissistic abuse is a masterclass in illusions. They play the villain while still coming off as the hero. It’s straight-up puppet mastery.

Funny thing…. I used to call him that.  Puppet Master. We joked about it.  I even customized a yeti for him.  I watched him do it to employees, to clients, to business associates. I saw how he pulled strings and controlled outcomes. And had so much confidence in that. 

But I convinced myself… he’d never do it to me. 

Have you heard the term Gaslighting?

Gaslighting is when they lie, deny, twist facts, or call you “too sensitive” to make you question your memory, your feelings, your reality. And over time… you stop trusting your gut. You stop trusting you.

Honestly, up until the last year of our marriage, I had never even heard the word. Someone said it to me in a conversation, and I went home and looked it up. The second I read the definition, I felt it in my gut. This is what has been happening to me for years. I just didn’t have the language for it.

He actually had a book called the gaslight effect. Kept it on his desk along with his puppet master cup. 

Looking back now, I can see exactly when I started to lose myself. It started not long after he had me hooked.

For me, it looked like finding secrete phones, inappropriate pictures on his phone—pictures of my own friends. I confronted him, and he swore it wasn’t what I thought. He would say....

“It’s not even her,” 

“A buddy sent it to me as a joke.”  like it was nothing  

The lies were lazy, honestly, but I wanted to believe him. And I started to think that I was crazy because I obviously knew what my friends looked like. Then he would erase or hide them and because I couldn’t see the image then I started to question if I saw it wrong. 

 I saw flirty messages, emails, DM’s  between him and other women. He was not careful.  

Did I dig deeper? No. Because I knew what I’d find. And if I found it, I’d have to face the fact that I was not the priority I thought I was. I was replaceable. I was being rejected, and I couldn't handle that truth. So I created my own excuses and justifications and  shoved it down. 

But on the rare occasions I did work up the courage to speak up—It was Usually after a drink or two gave me a backbone—

And That’s when his rage came out.

And yes, it got physical..... 

And yes, the next day he apologized And he would manipulate it to where I actually felt bad for him.  Like I made him do it.  Something he regretted. An apology followed with a side of blame.

“This wouldn’t have gone that far if you could handle your alcohol.”

Let’s leave out the part where I had something real to speak up about.

Now I know to keep my head down and my mouth shut. 

That’s what leads me into the next tactic narcissists use to break you down and control you:

Blame shifting

This one’s subtle but deadly. It’s when they flip the script so you’re always the problem… even when you’re the one being hurt.

Remember earlier when I said cheating felt awful and I never did it again? That was real. I meant it. 

I had years of alone time. Years of slowly becoming less and less of a priority—always coming second to his job, his ego, his status. And despite that, I still felt the need to protect him at all costs. He was never wrong. He was never to blame. And He "never LIED!"  And God forbid anyone disrespect him—he wouldn't stand for it.

But he could disrespect not just me, Everybody? That was normal. And apparently… acceptable.

I remember getting messages from men on social media. And every single time, I shut it down. Blocked. Deleted. Gone. Because even though I couldn’t control what other people sent, I could absolutely control how I responded to it. I never crossed that line again—not emotionally, not physically.

I think he wanted a trophy. A long-haired, tight-dress-wearing, big-chested, Louis Vuitton-carrying “Yes, babe” kind of woman. The kind that when people saw me, they’d think, Wow—he must be somebody.

Deep down that felt gross to me. I tried to fit into that image at times, because I wanted to make him happy but deep down, I didn’t want to be validated by my "Good Parts". That kind of attention never filled me up.

And I didn’t fully see it back then, but now? After looking back at all the things he liked and followed on Instagram… it felt gross.

My friends’ photos. Thirst traps. Validation-seeking images and  he gave them exactly what they were asking for. Meanwhile, my realness? My integrity? My voice? My kindness? My intelegence? I was funny but that wasn’t what he wanted.  

If I had posted something like that, and a friend’s husband liked or commented on it? I would’ve lost all respect for him. To me, that’s inappropriate. And disrespectful to your partner. Your making a fool out of them so how stupid does that make you look?

So when I brought this up to my then husband? When I told him how uncomfortable it made me?

He made me feel like the bad guy.

“It’s just Instagram.” “it's not a big deal”  “Fine, I’ll delete my profile you’re so insecure.”

Suddenly I was responsible for taking away his social media. I was controlling. I was too sensitive. Not once did he acknowledge the disrespect. I got  more guilt. More blame.

If any of this sounds familiar in your relationship... don’t ignore it.

Unless you want to keep living in denial and waste more time shrinking yourself. Unless you want to lose more of your integrity and wake up years from now, kicking yourself for staying through the inevitable.

Because trust me— The inevitable will happen. And when it does, you’ll wish you had left the first time your gut whispered,

“This isn’t right.”

Now let’s talk about Projection.

Projection is when they accuse you of doing the very things they’re doing—cheating, lying, manipulating. It’s a distraction tactic, plain and simple. They throw the blame at you so they don’t have to take accountability for anything. You end up defending yourself and even apologizing instead of questioning them. It’s psychological sleight of hand. 

I’ll never forget when it hit me square in the face.

It was a Friday night around 9:00 p.m. I was in bed scrolling on my phone, and he was out on the couch. My iPad was nearby, and a Facebook message popped up from an old friend from highschool that knew my maiden name (it’s Polish and not many people know it. Or can pronounce it. The message was  Nothing inappropriate, nothing flirty.

The message just said:

“Hey, Pollock?”

Before I could even open it, someone else responded from my account. I was completely confused—like, is my account being hacked?

I watched for a second in disbelief, trying to figure out what the hell was happening…

I walked into the living room and told him I thought my account had been hacked. But nope—there he was, holding my iPad, nose-deep in my messages, fishing for something to throw in my face.

He was furious. Dramatic, Screaming and punching walls.  

because I had apparently “opened myself up to communication for what… being on a social media platform ? 

Like that was the real crime. Not his snooping. Not his rage. Not the fact that at this point, I had already received messages and screenshots from other women’s husbands about things he had been doing. Videos. Photos. Proof. DMs. And I still stayed.

Come on. If I could go back and talk to that version of me… I’d say, “Girl, what the actual hell is wrong with you? You are smarter than this.”

But I didn’t have the backbone yet to say what I was really thinking. I had lost my voice And even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, I let myself be accused. And apologised  to calm his rage for his dramatic performance from Hey Pollock!

Here’s what’s wild: At the time, his anger seemed so real. So convincing. He was so pissed that I started to think… Maybe he wasn’t doing anything shady. Because why would someone get that mad about cheating if they were the one actually doing it?

But now? I see it so clearly. That was projection. That was control. That was pure manipulation.

Are the light bulbs going off for you too?

Next up: Financial Control

Financial control is when they restrict your access to money, sabotage your career, or guilt you into being financially dependent. It keeps you stuck and afraid to leave

This came early in our relationship. At the time, I was grinding as a hairstylist—working hard and doing well—but he was really good at his job. He was in Sales. Go figure, great at “Full of shit” He was a master of convincing people they needed something they only wanted. Like they couldn’t live without it. 

 You know that saying, “He could sell an Eskimo an ice cube?” 

Well, I used to joke that he could sell a Black man a tanning bed. (because he did once.) 

Told the guy it could help with his skin issue. And the man bought it.

I was impressed—at first.

Let me remind you I grew up in poverty. I had a scarcity mindset when it came to money.  I wasn’t reckless with it —I just didn’t know how to manage it. No one taught me. I saw money as something out of reach. Every month, I’d pay my bills and see the number drop in my account and panic… like it was going to run out and never come back. That scarcity mindset ran deep in me. Without even a conversation we combined our income. He’s good with money. I let him handle it thinking he was taking care of me. 

I gave him full control. I didn’t know what we paid, when we paid it, or who we paid it to. And truthfully… I didn’t want to know.

Over time, we got into a solid financial position. I didn’t need to look at price tags. I didn’t need to stress over bills. I wasn’t a big spender anyway—I didn’t care about designer things. But I did enjoy not having to want for anything or care about price tags.

That’s when the trap got tighter.

I never looked at credit cards, never saw the bank statements.  As his career grew, so did the houses, the cars, the image. And naturally, I started working less so I could take care of the bigger life we’d created. My income became insignificant compared to his.

But I was still contributing. I was running our life behind the scenes—supporting him, supporting us— But my money? My name? My credit? He controlled all of it.

I had no idea. Not a clue. And yeah, it feels stupid now. But I’m not here to beat myself up over it– I’m saying it out loud because some of you are doing this right now.

Ladies—if you’re giving up all financial control, you’re setting yourself up to be stuck.

This kind of control can get ugly, real quick.

If you’re doing sexual things you’re uncomfortable with just because he pays the bills and gives you nice things? You feel like it’s expected.. That’s not love. That’s a transaction. That’s objectification. And it reduces all the amazing, valuable things about you into nothing. Not to mention you’re not stupid, you know exactly whats going on. 

And if you aren’t doing those things but hes expressing to you that it may be a requirement..  You slowly become his mother. His maid. His servant. You are taking care of those needs  Meanwhile, he’s out using his money to get his sexual needs met elsewhere—whether it’s porn, stippers,  other women, OnlyFans, escorts, you name it. And remember if you’re married that’s your money too.  

Financial control is dangerous. And I learned that the hard way.

Always, always have a backup plan. I know it can be annoying but thats what multi-level marketing is for. 

Listen You might think you’re safe. I thought I was.

Then everything came crashing down without a warning. 

 Triangulation

Another classic narcissistic tactic is triangulation. 

Triangulation is when they bring in outside people—exes, friends, coworkers, or even strangers—to create jealousy, insecurity, or competition. They want to keep you on edge, keep you chasing their attention, and remind you that they always have “options.”

This one finally broke me. But it also became the best thing that ever happened to me.

Throughout our relationship, there were always women in his orbit. Women he worked with, networked with,—some across the country—that he’d come home and talk about in ways that never felt appropriate for professional conversation. It always left a knot in my gut, but I buried it. I didn’t want to seem insecure or controlling. I would sometimes ask about them… So how’s jasmine today?

There was one woman who had confided in him that she had cheated on her husband, she was on a dating app. He came home judging her hard—saying how messed up she was, how disappointed he felt in her. 

Guess what I later found out?

He had flown across the country to spend the weekend with her—on a “work trip.”

And remember how I mentioned the physical abuse that would happen when I got a little liquid courage? Yeah. Almost every single time it happened, it came after I dared to speak up about how those women, those conversations, those situations made me feel.

He could entertain women. He could flirt. He could live in that ego-fueled world. But me getting a Facebook message that started with “Hey, Pollock?” That was somehow crossing the line

And then came the final blow.

In the last few years of our marriage, I had a friend who became a regular in our life. Her family was far away, she was fun to be around—when she wasn’t neck-deep in drama. She had terrible morals and a selfish streak but came across like she just needed some guidance

 And of course, I thought I could help her. (Spoiler alert: the fixer in me got played.)

She was attractive, carried this fake confidence, and from the beginning… she reminded me of him. (Yeah—him. The narcissist I didn’t know I was married to yet.)

Things between us became complicated. Because that’s when he started his puppet mastery. He had an agenda.

And no, I’m not fully ready to dive into that part yet. I’ll save it for the book…  if I give away all the context now, you won’t buy it.

Let’s just say this: I don’t fight with friends. I hate conflict. But with her, it was inevitable. And every time there was tension, every time I tried to walk away, every time I wanted to trust my gut—he would get in the middle. And somehow, I always ended up the bad guy.

I felt like the middle child. The third wheel in my own marriage.She would refer to him as her big brother.  Their manipulation—together—broke me down in ways I can’t fully explain.

I was convinced I was a bad friend. That I wasn’t communicating right. That she was the life long friend that I had been missing. That we'd grow old together.

But I had gut feelings. And I let him gaslight every one of them right out of me.

He never supported my feelings. And even when he said he did, my body knew better. But my brain wasn’t ready to listen.

I suffered so much anxiety and stress because I knew he did not have my back. At one point the feeling was so bad I would pour a day drink and if It didn’t help I would take ½ xanax during a work day. That was concerning to me because It wasn’t like me and with my families history I needed to be careful and when I expressed that to him he showed his rage like something was wrong with me.

If you’re reading this and it sounds like your story—please don’t look away.

Turns out? And I didn’t know this until a few years later.  

While I was breaking down, she was trading my husband sex —for money.

While I was breaking down She was the shoulder I cried on, but also the reason I was crying.

While I was breaking down She was the one calling him a piece of shit—because she knew firsthand.

She was the double agent. Feeding him ammo to use against me. Over and over and over.

The emotional and mental abuse from both of them? It was paralyzing.

They were toxic. It was toxic. And I lived in it for almost two years.

At the time I thought it but I didn’t want to believe it was true. I didn’t want proof. I didn’t want to believe that someone was capable of doing that to me.  So I stayed in denial and defended their friendship and looked like a fool—because I couldn’t handle the truth.

Want to know what made it worse?

We had a business And everyone in our company knew about it. He bragged about it. You know the disgusting way some guys do when they are comparing sins. "My side piece is hotter than yours" and of course rumors spread. 

Another side note all men are like this. Don't give up hope. 

But no one told me. Why?

Because he told them we had an open marriage. That I was in a relationship with her too. Like we were “sister wives.”

And people stayed silent. Because they thought I knew. And if they knew I didn't know he made sure to have something on them.  It was like having insurance. So they stayed quiet to protect themselves.

I don’t hold those people at fault. Because truthfully? He can be nasty. Manipulative. Scary. And extremely good at controlling the narrative.

The wild thing is, the downfall felt like it came out of nowhere— But after I was done with him… came the.......

Hoovering

That’s when, after you’ve set a boundary or ended the relationship, they try to suck you back in with apologies, empty promises, and “I’ve changed” behavior. Don’t be fooled, It’s not love. It’s a control tactic. And it’s almost never real.

But don't worry….I didn’t fall for it.

By then, I had stepped into a new chapter. I was in the process of divorce. The separation period was over. And unexpectedly, I found myself in a relationship with an amazing man.I felt safer then I have ever felt in my entire life. 

There was no going back.

When my ex realized that this new relationship was real—and not just a rebound he could not wait out— That’s when the crocodile tears came. Suddenly, he had regrets. Suddenly, he wanted to talk. Suddenly, I mattered again.

But I wasn’t moved. Because at that point, I knew a lot more than I ever let on.

While we were separated, he sold our home and moved into a high-rise downtown—saying he wanted to “experience a new way of living.” I was enjoying finding myself, making friends and falling in love again. I kept my head down, and tried to keep the peace until the divorce was final.

But in his delusional mind, my moving on wasn’t closure—it was a challenge.

His situationship with my ex-friend had fizzled out. He lost control of her. And now he was losing control of me.

So he circled back.

And when I say circled back… I mean he moved into my apartment complex. Right across from me. Purposely  an apartment with a direct view into mine.

His plan? To position himself close enough to win me back. Because now he had no one left to manipulate. He lost control, and that was the reality check for him. Narcissist are very insecure but too proud to see it.  He was in denial of his insecurities like I was in denial of his abuse. 

But I know me. I will fight for something with everything I have—

but once I’m done, I’m done.

And I was done.

I want to mention that I am endlessly grateful for Milo’s patience during that time. He never pressured me. Never made me feel guilty. He let me handle things my way—so I could walk away with no regret. So I could reclaim my dignity and be proud of how I closed that chapter.

In the end, I gave up a lot to protect my peace. I didn’t get half. I didn’t even try. I knew he was hiding money. I knew his secrets. I knew his lies, I knew exactly what he was doing.

And his plan worked. He wore me down. Tortured me emotionally for long enough that I had no fight left. And that’s okay—because I didn’t want to keep fighting. I wanted peace more than I wanted revenge. 

Looking back now, the entire relationship feels like a lie. Even if some of the words were technically true, the intent was never pure.

And I knew I couldn’t carry that energy into my future. I wasn’t going to try to rebuild something from rubble soaked in manipulation.

I needed to rebuild me.

Brick by brick. Truth by truth. I needed to prove to myself that Angie Marie was still in there. That I didn’t just survive that chapter— I rewrote the ending.

And I’m still writing it.

This story... this healing... this life? It’s not over. It’s still unfolding.

The reason I shared this deeply vulnerable, exposing story is for you— For the woman who needs to hear it. The one who feels it in her gut, but keeps letting her brain override the truth.

If I could give you one piece of advice… it would be this: 

Let yourself feel it. 

Drop the justifications. 

Stop explaining away the red flags. 

Stop making excuses for someone who doesn’t even see your value.

If you are lonely in your relationship… If there’s no connection… If it feels one-sided, transactional, objectifying—and you feel gross inside your own body because of it— Listen to that.

Yes, it’s scary. 

Yes, it’s heartbreaking. 

Rejection and replacement suck. And the not-knowing? The doubt? That’s torture.

But if you can find the courage to feel it all and believe—even in the middle of your breaking—that there’s a lesson inside the pain… Then I promise you: There’s bliss on the other side of that hell.

There is so much growth waiting for you after the pain— But only if you choose to walk through it instead of staying stuck in it. Or continuing the same cycle. 

If you choose to stay where you are— in silence. In survival. In disconnection.

You won’t just lose your relationship— You’ll lose you.

You’ll lose years to regret. You’ll miss the opportunity to discover your self-worth. You’ll block yourself from the kind of love you were always worthy of— Real love. Respectful love. Safe love.  Love that feels like home.

So take the lesson. Take the tears. Take the truth— And start writing your next chapter.

One last thing If you’re sitting with that lump in your throat or that tightness in your chest, just know—you don’t have to keep holding it all in.

I want to invite you to do something small but brave: Reach out. Come find me on Instagram and tell me you listened. Send a DM, comment on the latest post—whatever feels safest. I read every single message.

And if you feel like you need some clarity or someone who gets it —someone who won’t judge, won’t pressure, and won’t give you any BS— Book a free discovery call with me. Its a 30 minute chat

There’s no pressure. No strings attached. I’m not here to sell you anything. I just want to be that silent friend on the other end of the call who can gently nudge you back toward yourself.

Because sometimes, that’s all we need. Someone to say,

“You’re not crazy. You’re not broken. And you’re not alone.”

Click the link in the show notes or head to Reauthenticated.com to book your free call.

Let’s start where you are. And take it one step at a time—from survival to self-worth.

Talk soon, friend.