"Why would you stay?"

"You shouldn't let yourself put up with that."

"Why don't youjust leave?"

If I had a dollar for all of the moments in my previous relationship when I knew I should have left, I would be rich.

I constantly criticize myself about how naive and "blinded by love" I was. My own self-criticism of my year and a half long "on and off" relationship is often multiplied when friends, and sometimes even strangers ask me, “why didn't you just leave?”

People leave each other constantly for being treated poorly, so why couldn’t I? This is the one thing most people misunderstand about being in an abusive relationship, whether physical or emotional. You're not simply "blinded by love," and no, you can't "just leave."

In an abusive relationship, your mental and emotional stability are stripped to the point that you can't make the rational decision to leave the relationship.

Abusers want control.

I can't even begin to describe all of the times that I apologized for things I didn't do in that relationship. I was the one who was guilty no matter what happened, and how dare I accuse him of something that he was obviously doing. I was hurt. I was hurt physically at times, which I can't make myself go into too much detail about. I was hurt emotionally. I was manipulated by him and my emotions were manipulated his pleasure.

He threatened to end our relationship instead of working through the issues we consistently faced. He'd tell me that I'd never find anyone who cared for me as much as he did, and I believed him.

According to him, I was paranoid, jealous, and overly emotional. I wasn't good enough for anything or anyone but him. I had to accept that I was those things, or he'd leave me. He would give me the cold shoulder. He would ignore me. He would do this until I came crawling back out of the pure loneliness that he made me feel. Our relationship was a constant cycle of control.

Abusers want you to keep coming back.

He did everything in his power to drown me and then everything he could to keep me afloat. I was never allowed to be at a point where I could clearly see his intentions.

I was his "soul mate," but then I was an "ugly slut."

I was "the most beautiful girl" and then I was "too skinny and needed to gain weight."

I was the "love of his life," but then the "stupid bitch who can't do anything right."

After every insult came the overwhelming guilt trip. The "I need you in my life" and "I will kill myself if I can't have you." Then came the doubt that I could find anyone better, followed by the compliments. Over, and over, and over again. Anything that could make me feel so horrid, so lonely, that I would come back after he felt satisfied and that he had control over me. I was scared of him.

For a year and a half, I was too scared of what he would do to me, to leave for good. I attempted to leave multiple times, but each time was filled with fear, followed by loneliness and guilt. As long as he could make me feel bad enough to where it looked like he was the only thing I had left, he had me right where he wanted me, whenever he wanted me. Without him, I felt so empty that I kept coming back.

Abusers thrive off of your self doubt.

He was good. Not good in the sense that I wanted him to be. I constantly told myself that he loved me and he could change. Or maybe it was him that told me this after every fight. Once. Or Twice. Or a few dozen times. He was good in the sense that his manipulation aligned just enough with my self-doubt that he had me hooked. Shame, a sense of defeat, mounds of doubt, conflicting thoughts, mistrust in myself and others around me. He had me just where he wanted me, until he didn’t. Abusive relationships are just that intricate. To make sure I couldn't leave, he made sure of it that I was filled to the brim with self doubt.

The aftermath is not something that is just fixed.

Whether it ever started out as a relationship out of pure love, the relationship was a monster of its own. Monsters are not something that you can just fix, nor was what I had shrunk into and become. One of the major things that the theory of learning tells us is that we never really “unlearn” anything. It takes a lot of counter conditioning to weaken the painful bonds developed between the painful emotions we had and the traumatic events we experienced.

After being in a relationship with a significantly disturbed person, it’s just natural to have your sense of trust and safety shaken. Sometimes I'm not even fully aware of the kind of questions that I ask myself, but it is constantly things like: "Is there something wrong with me? Can I trust a person that much again? Can I be in another relationship? What if my current relationship turns into that?" I am constantly wondering if I'll ever be able to “let go” of the pain that I experienced and is branded into my mind.

I have heard so many people debate the simplicity of this topic. Many people that I know believe that getting away from an abuser is simple. They think youjust leave. But what they don’t realize is that not leaving doesn’t make you weak. Not leaving is what makes you strong.

After a year and a half of trying to figure out which one he meant more between "I love you" and "I hate you," I realized that who I am would never be for him to decide. I finally left.

So, when people ask me why I didn’t leave sooner or after he said this or did that, it's because I honestly believed that whatever problems existed in our relationship, were all my fault and caused by me. I had lost all ability to think clearly and even to think for myself. I wasn’t a person I knew or even recognized anymore.

Fast forward: in my current relationship.

I will make this part short and sweet, although important.

It's like being a newbie again. I am in a world with a new set of rules. These aren't rules that have been set by the other person. That is not me. Control is not what he is about. The rules are for me and they are all about self-control, self-worth, and self-esteem. They are rules about safety and having healthy boundaries.

I was treated as if I was damaged, worthless, and unworthy of love. In fact, I thought I knew what love was, and I thought I had it. I thought that was what love was supposed to be. I now know what it actually is.

He treats me with kindness. My flaws are not brought to attention. I am not pressured to do anything. I am respected. I am told that I am cared about. I am praised when I accomplish things. I am reminded that I am a good person. I am treated like a human being. I am made to feel equal. I am hugged instead of being hurt emotionally or physically. This is what it is supposed to be like.

I will admit, I still struggle daily. Communication has been key to not letting my past relationship ruin my current one. My boyfriend and I both struggle with the emotional scars of the abuse in my past relationship, taking things slow and allowing me to feel comfortable without fearing the possibilities. He wants to be a helping hand after being given knowledge about what kind of situation I was in, and he wants what is best for me. Certain actions or situations trigger feelings and emotions that I am trying to forget. I cry a lot. The anxiety can at times be overwhelming. I often fear the little things and I forget to differentiate between the past and the present, feeling guilty because I feel as though I'm not treating him right. I am always reminded that he is here for me. With him there is always a reminder to take small steps at a time, and keep moving forward past my fears.

So, even though some days are burdened by memories of him, there is much more sunshine on the outside than there ever could have been on the inside. I know that I am a loving person, a bit bent with a few too many scars, but I know that I am worth much more than I know. I know I'm intelligent and I know that I am human. I know that I am learning what a healthy relationship is and how you should show you care to another person. I refuse to let this situation victimize me, but I do highlight the strength that I have because of it.

I am happy.

So, next time you ask someone "why would you stay?" think about it.

Next time you say they "shouldn't let them put up with that," wonder about it.

And before you tell them to "just leave," ask them if they need help.

Because it's not always easy, to just leave.