The Wounds You Can’t See: Emotional Abuse, Manipulation, and the Courage to Speak Out
The Wounds You Can’t See: Emotional Abuse, Manipulation, and the Courage to Speak Out
For 14 years, I lived in a marriage that looked, from the outside, like support and devotion—but in private, it was emotional warfare. My then-husband, who was later diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD), masterfully manipulated not just me, but the perceptions of those around us. In public, he was the picture of the supportive partner. At home, he belittled, gaslit, and systematically broke me down.
One painful things he used to say to me was that I was a “friend tard.” It wasn’t just the cruelty of the insult—it was the deliberate use of a word I found deeply offensive and dehumanising to others. There were many horrible things he would say to me, too many to remember. That kind of emotional abuse doesn’t leave bruises, but it leaves scars that are often deeper, longer lasting, and far less understood.
Now, over a decade free from that relationship, I can finally see it clearly: the manipulation, the misogyny, the constant effort to undermine my sense of self. But what’s harder to navigate is how that manipulation often continues—especially through our children, and especially when society still doesn’t fully recognise the complexity and danger of emotional abuse.
The Invisible Wound of Emotional Abuse
Emotional abuse is often dismissed because it's not visible. There are no police reports. No black eyes. No broken bones. But the pain is real. The fear is real. The loss of identity, the self-doubt and confusion , the isolation—it’s all real.
When the abuser has traits of borderline personality disorder, it can be even harder for others to detect. People with untreated BPD may struggle with intense emotional swings, a deep fear of abandonment, and impulsive or manipulative behavior. With my ex spouse , he would get very paranoid and obsessive thinking that I was cheating on him.
These individuals can be incredibly charming to outsiders while behaving monstrously behind closed doors. Their ability to twist narratives, play the victim, and turn friends or family against the person they are abusing is insidious. And when the real victim finally sets a boundary or speaks up, they're often met with disbelief, blame, or worse—ostracisation.
The Power—and Pain—of Setting Boundaries
After years of therapy and working through the trauma bit by bit (and I’m still working through it), I have been strong enough to learn how to place a boundary. And what freedom there is in placing a boundary! Sadly, not everyone has respected them. What I didn’t learn in therapy—but have discovered painfully in life—is that sometimes people just don’t understand. They overlook, dismiss, or even criticise your experience.
If this is happening to you, you are not alone. Stand strong. Protect yourself. For years, no one protected you—so now it’s up to the person inside you.
Another memory I have of my abuser is how he simply could never understand my emotions. I would try to share how I felt, and instead of empathy, I’d be met with blankness—or worse, blame. Every conversation would somehow circle back to me apologising for feeling. Even when he had done something terrible, I would end up thinking it was my fault for being hurt by it.
I spent years in therapy with professionals who, unknowingly, empathised more with his behaviour than my pain. Not outwardly but by "sitting on the fence" not being bold enough to call out his bad behaviour . But eventually, we saw a psychologist who saw the patterns. He recognised BPD, abuse and gaslighting . He also helped me realise how I was enabling my ex-husband to continue treating me badly by putting up with it.
In one powerful group session, that same therapist managed to break through to something raw—he asked my ex what he truly felt about me. What came next was like a punch to the chest but also a strange kind of liberation. My ex admitted, in front of others, “I hate her. I’ve hated her for seven years.”
It was devastating to hear—but it also set me free.
As they say, “The truth will set you free.” And for me, it did. I began to understand how resentment festers in people with BPD and how their hatred can be rooted in a twisted kind of jealousy or perceived betrayal. I began to learn the terms: gaslighting. Victim blaming. Emotional manipulation.
And naming these things brought clarity. Recognising them brought freedom. I could finally begin to reclaim myself.
When the Victim Becomes the Villain
This is one of the cruelest parts: when you begin to find your strength and say “no more,” that’s often when the abuser escalates. They rally allies. They spread lies. They cry to others about how difficult you are. They portray themselves as the ones who’ve been hurt.
I’ve lived this. I’ve watched people I trusted take his side. I’ve had to bite my tongue at my own children's milestones, sitting silently while he made subtle digs or tried to assert control.
It’s a trauma that doesn’t end with separation. It’s ongoing.
How We Can Do Better: A Call to Society
We must do better—not just for the victims who are still living in silence, but for all of us who believe in justice and compassion.
Here’s how:
1. Stop engaging in conversations about the victim with the perpetrator. Don’t allow yourself to be used as a pawn in their manipulative narrative.
2. Never place the victim alone with the abuser. This is re-traumatizing and dangerous. Emotional abuse is still abuse.
3. Don’t shame victims for needing distance. Healing sometimes means cutting contact. Respect that.
4. Respect and accommodate emotional boundaries. If a victim needed a wheelchair ramp, you’d build one. Emotional wounds deserve the same support.
5. Always communicate plans clearly to a victim if the abuser is going to be present. It is not fair for them to turn up somewhere and find their abuser staring them in the face. Also, always remember—the abuser will try to convince you the victim is being silly, childish, or just needs to get over it. That is a classic gaslighting technique. Don’t fall for it.
6. Don’t ostracise the victim by making their inclusion conditional on being in the same space as their abuser. Saying things like “If you want to be part of this event, you have to be there with them,” hands the abuser power and control all over again. This is where society still gets it wrong—we often blame the victim and give preference to the abuser’s presence. The result? The victim gets left out simply because they cannot emotionally or psychologically tolerate being in the same room as the person who once held them captive through manipulation. That’s not a personal flaw—it’s a survival response.
If we truly care about healing and justice, we must treat emotional wounds with the same gravity as physical ones.
We’re getting better, yes. But we’re not there yet. Our systems—legal, social, even community support networks—still too often fail victims of emotional abuse. We still believe the charming abuser. We still question the woman who finally breaks down. We still think trauma must be loud, angry, messy. But sometimes, trauma is quiet. It’s a woman disappearing piece by piece over years of being told she’s worthless.
Let’s Speak the Truth Out Loud
To those who’ve walked this road—you’re not alone. To those still in it—there is a way out. And to those watching from the sidelines—it’s time to stop enabling emotional abusers with our silence and doubt.
No one should have to justify their need for safety—physical or emotional.
If you or someone you know is in an emotionally abusive relationship, please reach out to support services such as 1800RESPECT in Australia. Your story matters. Your safety matters. Your healing matters.
Let’s Choose the Side of Healing
Emotional abuse doesn’t always scream. Sometimes, it whispers in isolation, in dismissal, in exclusion. Sometimes it walks into a room with a smile, while the person it’s harmed the most is left in silence, forced to either endure or disappear.
But we can change that.
We can start believing victims the first time. We can stop prioritising social appearances over psychological safety. We can stop asking survivors to prove their pain.
It starts with choosing the side of healing—not the side of comfort. It starts with recognising emotional wounds as real and deserving of space. It starts with you—reading this, listening, learning, and choosing to do better.
To every survivor reading this: You are not too sensitive. You are not overreacting. You are reclaiming your dignity, one boundary at a time. Keep going. You’re not alone anymore.
Anna
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Anna Spoore
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