When people ask why I stayed, I never know what to say. It wasn’t obvious at first. There were no threats, no yelling, no breaking things. It was slow, quiet, and calculated.

He’d sigh when I expressed a need. Roll his eyes when I had an opinion. Make jokes at my expense that “everyone else found funny.” Anytime I cried, he’d say I was being dramatic. Anytime I confronted him, he’d say I remembered it wrong.

For a while, I genuinely believed I was dramatic, sensitive, weak, difficult — all the words he used in place of actually hurting me.

The real turning point for me was the night I apologized to him for crying after he insulted me.
I apologized.
To him.
For my own pain.

That’s when I realized emotional abuse doesn’t always show up like movies show it. Sometimes it’s the slow erosion of your confidence, your identity, your voice.

Sometimes the damage is invisible — except to the person living through it.

                                                        - Milan