Day 8: When Silence Speaks First

We’re entering the final eight‑day countdown to the end of Domestic Abuse Awareness Month.

Each day, I want to unpack one truth I lived through.

This isn’t theory or statistics.
This is lived experience.

These reflections aren’t about blame; they’re about understanding.

Day 8 begins where most stories truly start: with silence.

Abuse rarely arrives shouting.
It arrives softly—dressed as care, cloaked in concern, disguised as love.

I remember believing I was lucky. I thought I had someone who cared deeply. They checked in constantly.

They wanted to know where I was “to make sure I was safe.”

Only later did I realise: I wasn’t being protected, I was being monitored.

That kind of calm isn’t comfort. It’s a warning.

Coercive control often masquerades as devotion.
Your boundaries blur.
Your voice quietens.
Your world shrinks to fit someone else’s version of safety.

Looking back, the pattern is unmistakable:

• My autonomy traded for “love.”
• My friendships slowly erased.
• My life reduced to his comfort zone — never mine.

If you feel that heavy calm, trust your instinct.

Real safety doesn’t confine you — it expands you.

It lets you breathe, move, choose, and be.