Survivor Speaks Truth

Category: Abuse

  • When Trauma Lingers: How Abuse Affects Your Nervous System

    Abuse doesn’t just leave emotional scars—it imprints itself on the body. Your nervous system remembers long after the bruises fade, the manipulation ends, or the yelling ends. Your body becomes the vault that stores every fight, every threat, every terrifying moment when you didn’t feel safe.

    This is why survivors of abuse so often say they feel “on edge” or “numb” or “not like themselves”—because their nervous system has been rewired by trauma.

    The Body Keeps the Score
    Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, author of the groundbreaking book The Body Keeps the Score, explains how trauma reshapes not just our minds but our entire physiology. For someone who has endured abuse, especially prolonged or repeated abuse, the nervous system becomes stuck in survival mode.

    The body doesn’t distinguish between real-time danger and the memory of danger—it reacts the same way. And over time, this chronic activation wears you down.

    Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn
    When you experience abuse, your brain’s alarm system—particularly the amygdala—kicks into high gear. It sends signals to your body to fight, flee, freeze, or fawn (people-please to stay safe). Your heart races. Your muscles tense. Your breathing changes. Cortisol floods your system.

    Now imagine this happening again and again. Your nervous system never gets the message that you’re safe. It becomes hypersensitive, constantly scanning for threats, even when there are none.

    This can result in:

    • Hypervigilance: Always on edge, easily startled, struggling to relax.
    • Emotional dysregulation: Intense reactions to small stressors.
    • Digestive issues: Because when you’re in fight or flight, digestion takes a backseat.
    • Chronic pain and fatigue: The body’s energy is diverted to survival, not healing.
    • Sleep problems: Nightmares, insomnia, waking in panic.
    • Difficulty concentrating: The brain struggles to focus when it feels unsafe.

    Why You’re Not “Overreacting”
    If you’ve been told you’re too sensitive, overreacting, or living in the past, hear this: you are not broken. Your body is doing exactly what it was designed to do—keep you safe. The problem is, it hasn’t received the signal that the threat is gone.

    Survivors often carry shame for their reactions, not realizing those reactions are normal responses to abnormal events. You’re not crazy. You’re a human being whose nervous system has been injured.

    Healing Is Possible
    The good news is that your body is also capable of healing. Just as trauma changes the nervous system, healing practices can help retrain it.

    Some powerful tools include:

    • Trauma-informed therapy (like EMDR, somatic experiencing, or internal family systems)
    • Breathwork and grounding exercises
    • Safe relationships and environments
    • Movement: Gentle exercise, stretching, walking—anything that reconnects you to your body
    • Faith and spiritual connection: Knowing you are deeply loved and never alone
    • Rest: Deep, restorative rest helps calm an overstimulated system

    You Are Not Alone
    If you’ve felt like your body has betrayed you, I want you to know—it hasn’t. It protected you the best way it knew how. And now, step by step, it can begin to learn safety again.

    You are not too damaged. You are not too far gone. Healing might not be linear, but it is possible.

    Your story matters, and your body matters. You deserve to live in a body that feels safe again.

  • Speaking the Truth Doesn’t Make You Unkind

    Somewhere along the way, we were taught that silence is noble, that politeness is more important than honesty, and that if we speak brutal truth, we must be bitter, unloving, or unforgiving. But let’s be clear about something: Telling the truth is not unkind.

    Truth is not cruelty. Truth is not revenge. Truth is not gossip.

    Truth is clarity. Truth is light. Truth is love in action.

    Speaking the truth often gets mislabeled in a world that values appearances and comfort over honesty. Some will say you’re being dramatic when you name the harm done to you. When you set boundaries, they’ll call you difficult. When you tell your story, they’ll accuse you of spreading hate. But don’t be fooled—silencing the truth does more harm than speaking it ever could.

    Jesus Himself is the embodiment of truth, and He never once sugarcoated it. He spoke directly, called out hypocrisy, and told stories that confronted sin and injustice. He didn’t soften the truth to avoid offending people. But He also didn’t wield truth as a weapon to destroy. He spoke it to set people free.

    There is a difference between telling the truth and telling it with the intent to harm, between exposing evil and wishing evil on someone, and between healing through your voice and using your voice to hurt.

    But truth, in and of itself, is not unkind. It’s the very thing that saves lives.

    For too long, survivors have been told to stay silent “for the sake of peace.” But peace built on silence is not peace—it’s denial. It’s the protection of an image instead of the protection of the person who was harmed. You’re not being unkind when you tell the truth about your experience. You’re being courageous. You’re creating space for healing. You’re refusing to let lies have the final word.

    And yes—the truth may make some people uncomfortable. But that doesn’t make you unkind. It makes them unready to face what they’ve ignored, enabled or contributed to.

    Don’t confuse discomfort with cruelty, confrontation with a lack of love, or clarity with character assassination.

    You can speak with grace and still communicate with strength. You can tell your story without bitterness. You can name what happened and pray for healing—for yourself and others.

    Being a peacemaker doesn’t mean keeping everyone comfortable. It means standing for what is right. It means walking in the light, even when it’s easier to blend into the dark.

    So don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed for speaking up. Don’t let twisted definitions of “kindness” silence your truth.

    Kindness is not passivity. Kindness is not self-erasure. Kindness is not complicity.

    Kindness and truth can—and must—coexist. When they do, they have the power to bring real, lasting healing.

    Speak the truth even if your voice shakes, even if others don’t understand, even if it costs you something.

    Because truth isn’t the enemy of kindness; truth is the beginning of freedom.

  • Letting Go of Guilt and Shame—They Were Never Yours to Carry

    Guilt and shame.

    Two of the heaviest burdens a survivor can carry were never ours to hold.

    They creep in silently after the storm. They often strike when the chaos has quieted, and you finally catch your breath. Maybe you think, “I should have left sooner. I should have known better. I should have seen the signs.” Or perhaps the whispers come from others who don’t know your story but feel entitled to judge it. People who don’t understand the tangled web of manipulation, fear, trauma bonds, and survival instincts.

    But here’s the truth: You are not to blame for someone else’s choice to abuse.

    You didn’t cause it, you didn’t deserve it, and you certainly don’t have to carry the weight of it.

    Guilt is a normal human emotion when we’ve done something wrong. But what happens when you feel guilty for simply surviving? For protecting yourself? For making choices, others can’t or won’t understand? That’s not guilt rooted in truth. That’s manipulation. That’s shame being handed to you by someone who doesn’t want to own their part.

    And shame? Shame is different. Shame says, “You are the problem.” But you are not. The abuse is the problem. The abuser is the problem. Shame belongs to the one who inflicted harm, not the one who endured it.

    You were lied to. You were broken. You were made to believe that their chaos was your fault. That you were too much. Or not enough. It would stop if you just loved harder, prayed longer, and forgave faster. But abuse is not a misunderstanding. It’s not a communication problem. It’s not a mutual failing. It’s a choice made by one person to exert power and control over another.

    And that choice was never yours.

    Letting go of guilt and shame isn’t about pretending the past didn’t happen. It’s about acknowledging what did and releasing the parts that don’t belong to you. It’s looking at your story and saying: “This happened to me, but it is not who I am.”It’s waking up and declaring: “I am not what they said I was.”It’s learning to speak kindly to yourself and show compassion to the version of you who stayed, fought, and tried so hard to hold it all together.

    You survived something that tried to destroy you. You kept going when you had every reason to give up. You’re here. And that matters.

    God never asked you to carry the guilt of another person’s sin. He offers to take every weight you were never meant to hold.”Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

    That’s not just for your exhaustion. That’s for the fear, guilt, shame, and the questions that haunt you.

    Letting go is a process. Some days, it will feel easier than others. But every day you choose to release what was never yours—every time you reject the shame wrongfully assigned to you—you are stepping into freedom.

    You don’t need to apologize for surviving. You don’t need to explain why you stayed. You don’t owe anyone an account of your healing.

    The only thing you owe yourself is permission to heal, to rest, to live without the crushing weight of guilt and shame that were never yours to carry in the first place.

    Let it go.

    It was never yours. It belonged to them all along.

    And now, it’s time to give it back.

    If this resonated with you, know that you’re not alone. Healing takes time, but every step forward is sacred. Keep going.

  • The Wrong Question: Why Are We Blaming the Victim Instead of the Abuser?

    For far too long, the conversation around domestic abuse has centred on the wrong question.

    “Why did you stay?”

    It’s a question survivors hear far too often—sometimes from well-meaning people, sometimes from those looking to blame. It’s a question that implies weakness, complicity, or even guilt on the part of the one who was harmed. It places the burden of explanation on the victim, as though their endurance or entrapment is the real issue we must solve.

    But that question is a distraction.

    The real question is this:

    Why did the abuser abuse?

    Why did someone feel entitled to dominate, manipulate, control, and harm another human being? Why did they weaponize love, faith, or trust to break down the person they claimed to care for? Why did they believe they could act with impunity—behind closed doors while smiling in public?

    Asking, “Why did you stay?” ignores the power dynamics, fear, manipulation, isolation, financial dependence, trauma bonding, and very real danger victims face. It fails to acknowledge that abuse is designed to entrap and erode a person’s ability to leave. Victims often stay because they’re trying to survive. Because they love their children. Because they’ve been threatened. Because they’ve been brainwashed. Because they have nowhere else to go.

    Abuse is not a relationship issue. It’s a choice. A repeated, intentional pattern of behaviour meant to control another person. And the responsibility lies solely on the one who chooses to abuse—not the one who tries to survive it.

    When we ask why the victim stayed, we reinforce silence and shame. But when we ask why the abuser abused, we shine light on the behavior that needs to be confronted. We hold the right person accountable. We begin to change the system, the culture, and the narrative.

    So, let’s start asking better questions.

    Let’s ask:

    • Why do abusers manipulate and gaslight instead of taking accountability?
    • Why do they maintain a double life—charming in public, cruel in private?
    • Why are survivors disbelieved while abusers are defended?
    • Why is image more important than integrity in so many communities?
    • Why do churches, courts, and families often protect the perpetrator over the victim?

    If we want to stop abuse, we have to stop normalizing it. We have to stop explaining it away, minimizing it, or dressing it up in religious language. We have to stop placing the burden of proof on the one already carrying the weight of trauma.

    It’s time we stop asking, “Why didn’t you leave sooner?”

    And start demanding answers to: “Why did they think abuse was acceptable in the first place?”

    Because that’s where the healing begins; that’s where justice lives. And that’s how we rewrite the story—not with shame, but with truth.

  • “They Would Never Do That” — What That Really Means

    “They would never do that.”

    It’s a phrase we hear often—spoken with confidence, certainty, and sometimes even indignation. It’s usually uttered by someone defending someone they know or believe they can vouch for. But here’s the truth that often goes unspoken:

    “They would never do that” usually means, “They’ve never done it to me.”

    And that’s a huge difference.

    We all interpret people through the lens of our own experiences with them. If someone has only ever been kind to you, it’s natural to assume they are kind. If they’ve never lied to you, you believe they are honest. If they’ve never harmed you, you might conclude they are safe. But what if they only treat you that way because there’s nothing for them to gain by mistreating you?

    What if their cruelty is reserved for those closest to them—the ones they feel they can control, manipulate, or silence?

    People are not always consistent across relationships. Abusers don’t abuse everyone. Manipulators aren’t always obvious. Some of the most harmful people are also the most charming, polite, generous, and helpful—when it serves them.

    So when someone says, “They would never do that,” they’re not stating the truth. They’re making a statement about their personal experience. And while personal experience matters, it is not the whole picture.

    It’s easy to dismiss a victim’s account when it doesn’t align with what we’ve seen. But just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. Just because they smile at you doesn’t mean they don’t scream at someone else behind closed doors. Just because they seem godly in church doesn’t mean they aren’t a nightmare at home.

    Abusers wear masks. And sometimes, those masks are so convincing that even the most discerning people can be fooled.

    The real danger in saying “they would never do that” is that it shuts down conversation. It invalidates the lived experience of someone who did witness it. Someone who was on the receiving end. It implies that your experience with the person outweighs theirs—as if proximity to goodness cancels out proximity to pain.

    But both realities can coexist. A person can be kind to some and cruel to others. They can be generous with friends and controlling with family. They can charm a crowd and terrorize their partner.

    If someone is brave enough to speak up and say, “They did this to me,” the response should not be, “They would never.” The response should be, “Tell me what happened.” It should be one of curiosity, not condemnation—compassion, not dismissal.

    The truth is, many victims stay silent for years because they’ve heard that exact phrase echo in the background: They would never. And in their minds, that means no one would believe them. So they suffer quietly. They shrink. They question themselves. They internalize shame that never belonged to them.

    So let’s change the narrative.

    Instead of insisting on what someone would or wouldn’t do, let’s acknowledge what we don’t know. Let’s recognize that people show different sides to different people. Let’s create a world where someone can share their story without fear of being met with disbelief.

    Because when we say, “They would never,” we’re really saying, “I choose not to believe you.”

    And that choice has consequences.

    You don’t have to have seen it for it to be true. You don’t have to understand it for it to matter. You have to listen—with humility, empathy, and the awareness that sometimes, what we think we know is only part of the story.

    Let’s stop silencing survivors with our certainty. Let’s start believing that just because they never did it to you doesn’t mean they didn’t do it to someone.

  • When Abusers Can’t Control You, They Control the Narrative

    One of the most painful parts of abuse isn’t just the betrayal that happens behind closed doors—it’s what happens after. When the abuser, so skilled in manipulation and deception, begins to rewrite the story. When they paint themselves as the victim, you, the one who endured the pain in silence for so long, are cast as the villain.

    This isn’t accidental; it’s intentional, and it’s part of the abuse.

    Abusers don’t just harm in private—they also launch smear campaigns in public. They know how to twist narratives, fabricate half-truths, and tell just enough of a story to make themselves look wounded and noble while quietly dismantling your character behind your back. They weaponize their charm and social connections to discredit you, all while maintaining their image of righteousness.

    They go to great lengths to turn people against you. Why? Because they need control. Even after you leave.

    They don’t want people to see the truth. Because if the truth were seen, the mask would fall—and with it, the power they hold over others. So, they preemptively strike. They sow seeds of doubt before you even open your mouth. They spread rumors. They share “concerns.” They tell people you’re unstable, bitter, unforgiving, or even abusive yourself. They will use tears, Scripture, and false humility to garner sympathy—and most of the time, people believe them.

    Because here’s the thing: abusers don’t look like abusers. They often look like kind, involved parents. They serve in churches. They say all the right things. They show up to community events with smiles and handshakes. They know exactly how to appear trustworthy, responsible, and gentle. And when they begin to subtly (or not-so-subtly) tarnish your name, people listen. Not because they’re evil—but because they don’t know better.

    And in the process, you find yourself isolated. People stop calling. They unfollow you. You hear whispers. You get messages from mutual friends saying things like, “I don’t know what happened, but I just want peace,” or “I can’t take sides.”And suddenly, you’re grieving not just the abuse—but the loss of a community you thought would support you. The silence is deafening. The abandonment is cruel. The injustice is unbearable.

    But it is not your fault.

    This is what abusers do. It’s called DARVO—Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender. They deny what they’ve done, attack your credibility, and make themselves look like the wounded party. It’s a psychological tactic designed to confuse everyone watching, including you.

    If you’re in this place—questioning your reality, wondering how so many people could believe the lies—know this: you are not alone. Many survivors have walked this same path. And while it’s excruciating, it’s also a sign that the abuser is losing their grip on you—so they’re working overtime to keep their grip on others.

    They are afraid of the truth getting out, of losing the power they’ve built through deceit, and of being exposed if people knew the real story.

    So they make sure to speak first, manipulate the narrative, and ensure that by the time you finally find the courage to speak up, people already doubt you.

    But God sees it all.

    He sees the lies. He sees the slander. He sees your effort to protect someone who never protected you. He sees the relationships you’ve lost—not because of who you are, but because of what someone else twisted about you.

    And He will make it right.

    Psalm 37:5-6 says, “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will act. He will bring forth your righteousness as the light and your justice as the noonday.”

    You don’t have to fight every lie. You don’t have to chase down every rumour. You don’t have to beg people to believe you.

    Truth has a way of rising. And while the pain of the smear campaign feels unbearable, it will not last forever. Those who are meant to see will see in time. And those who were easily swayed were never meant to walk with you in this season of healing anyway.

    If someone truly loves you, they won’t form an opinion about your story without talking to you directly. If they walk away without hearing your side, let them go. God is clearing the room.

    Yes, abusers go to great lengths to turn people against you. But don’t forget—you walked through fire. You survived the storm. You carry a truth they cannot touch.

    And no matter what anyone else believes, God knows the whole story. And in His time, so will the rest.

  • Wolves in Sheep’s Clothing

    Not every threat comes snarling. Some threats come smiling—disarming, charismatic, even “godly.” That’s what makes a wolf in sheep’s clothing so dangerous. They look the part. They speak the language. They blend in with the flock. But beneath the surface, their intentions are predatory.

    Jesus warned us about them clearly: “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves” (Matthew 7:15). This wasn’t just about ancient Pharisees or future deceivers—it’s a warning for today. And too many of us have learned it the hard way.

    Maybe you trusted someone because they quoted Scripture, volunteered at church, or said all the right things. But behind closed doors, their words cut, their actions confused, and their presence drained the life out of you. When you tried to speak up, you were told to forgive, submit, and pray harder.

    So, how can you spot a wolf before they tear your world apart?

    How to Identify a Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

    1. Charm Over Character

    Wolves often rely on charisma. They know how to win people with smiles, compliments, and surface-level spirituality. But charm is not character. Character is who someone is when no one is watching. A wolf may appear loving in public but be controlling, cruel, or passive-aggressive in private.

    2. Control Disguised as Care

    They might frame their control as “protection” or “concern,” but healthy love empowers—it doesn’t confine. If someone monitors your movements, isolates you from others, or constantly needs to know where you are, that’s not love. That’s fear wearing a mask.

    3. Lack of Accountability

    Wolves rarely admit when they’re wrong. They shift blame, twist the narrative, or accuse you of being too sensitive, emotional, or unforgiving. They’re skilled at turning the tables—especially when caught.

    4. Two-Faced Living

    One of the most evident signs of a wolf is the duplicity between who they are publicly and privately. If someone is praised by others but your experience is filled with confusion, fear, and pain—listen to that tension. You’re not crazy. You’re likely seeing the truth behind the mask.

    5. They Weaponize Scripture

    They use the Bible not to bring healing or accountability but to control and silence. Verses about submission, forgiveness, or unity are used to keep victims in abusive situations. But Jesus never used Scripture to silence the oppressed—only to confront the oppressors.

    How to Expose a Wolf

    1. Speak the Truth—Even if Your Voice Shakes

    Wolves thrive in silence. They rely on your fear and shame to keep their secrets safe. But the truth is light. You don’t owe the world your entire story, but you can tell the truth about your experiences. God is not honoured by your silence if it protects a lie.

    2. Let Their Fruit Speak

    Jesus said we would know them by their fruit (Matthew 7:16). That means the truth reveals itself over time. Is there peace around them or chaos? Healing or harm? Real love bears good fruit—wolves leave destruction in their wake.

    3. Document Everything

    In cases of emotional, financial, physical, sexual, or spiritual abuse, keep records. Save messages, journal patterns, and speak to someone who understands abuse dynamics. You don’t need evidence to know what happened to you—but having it may help others understand and protect themselves.

    4. Don’t Expect Support from Everyone

    Many people will be fooled by the sheep costume. Don’t let their disbelief cause you to question your reality. Even Jesus was betrayed by someone who sat at His table. You don’t need universal validation to walk in truth.

    How to Protect Yourself

    1. Pray for Discernment

    Discernment is a spiritual gift, and we need it more than ever. Ask God to reveal hidden motives, to guard your heart, and to show you what is real. Not everything that glitters is gold—and not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” knows Him (Matthew 7:21).

    2. Set Boundaries Without Guilt

    Boundaries are not unloving—they are necessary. Jesus walked away from certain crowds, confronted sin directly, and didn’t entrust Himself to those with wrong motives (John 2:24). You are allowed to say no, step back, and protect your peace.

    3. Surround Yourself With Truth-Tellers

    You need people who love you enough to tell you the truth—even when it’s hard—and who believe you when you speak the truth. Healing starts in safe spaces. If someone consistently gaslights you or makes you feel crazy, that’s not a safe space.

    4. Trust the Holy Spirit

    The Spirit will lead you into all truth (John 16:13). Even if others are deceived, even if you’ve been silenced before, God sees it all. He knows the heart, and He is not mocked. Everything hidden will be brought into the light (Luke 8:17).

    You’re Not Alone

    If you’ve survived a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you know the unique pain of spiritual betrayal. It cuts differently. But you’re not alone, and you’re not without hope. Jesus sees, believes you, and will restore what the enemy tried to steal.

    Don’t let someone’s mask convince you that your pain isn’t real. Don’t let the performance of goodness drown out the voice of discernment God placed within you.

    You are not crazy, you are not alone, and you are not without power.

    Expose the darkness. Walk in the light. And never forget—real sheep don’t bite.