Survivor Speaks Truth

Tag: Exposing Evil

  • When Loving Someone Is Breaking You

    Love is supposed to be a safe place. A shelter. A home for the soul. But what happens when the very love you’ve poured into someone begins to chip away at who you are?

    Not all love feels like warmth and safety. Sometimes, love feels like walking on eggshells, holding your breath, and shrinking yourself to keep the peace. Sometimes, loving someone deeply becomes the very thing that breaks you.

    You give. You hope. You try. You hold on longer than you should because you believe in their potential. You replay the good times in your mind like a highlight reel to justify staying, even though the reality has shifted. Even though you’re no longer smiling the same. Even though the tears have become more frequent than the laughter.

    And you wonder if this is what love is supposed to feel like.

    Healthy love does not require the erosion of your self-worth. It doesn’t demand silence in the face of mistreatment. It doesn’t punish you for having needs, emotions, or boundaries. Yet too many of us stay in relationships where love has become a battleground. We make excuses—“They didn’t mean it,” “They’ve had a hard life,” “If I just love them harder, they’ll change.” But here’s the truth: real love doesn’t require you to abandon yourself.

    If the love you’re in is causing chronic anxiety, confusion, pain, or self-doubt, it’s not love—it’s a trap dressed up as loyalty. Yes, love will challenge you. Relationships take work. But the kind of work that builds, not breaks. The type that deepens connection, not silences your voice. Love should never require you to betray yourself to keep someone else. You should not have to apologize for asking to be treated with respect. You should not have to compromise your peace to avoid an argument. You should not have to suppress your truth so they feel more comfortable living in denial.

    You’re not too much. You’re not too sensitive. You’re not asking for the impossible. You’re asking for love that reflects care, effort, kindness, and mutual respect, and that is not too much.

    There is a high cost to staying where your soul is withering. Your health suffers, your confidence diminishes, you start questioning your intuition, and you may even lose sight of your purpose. You try to be strong. You say things like, “Love endures all things,” because you’ve been taught that staying is noble, that leaving is selfish, that forgiveness means tolerance, that hope means never letting go. But you must remember: endurance is not the same as self-abandonment.

    Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is walk away. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do—for yourself and them—is to release what’s destroying you.

    You were created with dignity, purpose, and value. And any relationship that consistently undermines your worth is not of God, no matter how much you once prayed for it. It is not your job to fix someone committed to staying broken. It is not your responsibility to be their emotional caretaker, their punching bag, or their excuse to avoid growth.

    Love is not pain management. You are not a martyr for staying in dysfunction. You are not unfaithful for choosing healing over chaos.

    Letting go doesn’t mean you didn’t love them. It means you finally started loving yourself, too.

    It means you’ve come to the realization that love should not cost you your peace, sanity, or soul. It means you’ve grown tired of apologizing for someone else’s inability to meet you with the same depth you gave them.

    If love breaks you, it’s okay to stop trying to prove your worth. It’s okay to stop carrying a relationship that was never meant to rest entirely on your shoulders. It’s okay to say, “This is not love, and I deserve better.”

    You deserve a love that hears, protects, sees, and uplifts you. A love that brings out the best in you, not one that leaves you constantly trying to heal from it.

    So if you’re in that place today—quietly breaking behind closed doors while trying to hold it all together—please hear this:

    You are allowed to walk away from what is breaking you. You are allowed to choose healing, hope, and peace. You are allowed to outgrow what once felt like love but now only feels like pain.

    Because loving someone should never cost you yourself.

  • Is This Abuse? How to Recognize the Signs You Might Be Missing

    When people hear the word “abuse,” many think of bruises or physical violence. But abuse is much broader and more insidious than that. It’s not always easy to recognize, especially in the middle of it. Abuse can be subtle, manipulative, and emotional, often hiding behind charming smiles and carefully crafted facades.

    If you’re wondering whether what you’re experiencing is abuse, you’re not alone. Many survivors spend months or even years questioning their reality before realizing the truth. This post will help you understand abuse, recognize the warning signs, and trust your voice again.

    What Is Abuse?

    Abuse is a pattern of behaviour used by one person to maintain power and control over another. It can take many forms—emotional, psychological, physical, financial, spiritual, and sexual. The core of abuse isn’t just about harmful actions; it’s about domination, coercion, and the erosion of your sense of self.

    Abuse is not limited to physical harm. Someone doesn’t have to hit you for it to be abuse. Something is wrong if you constantly walk on eggshells, question your worth, or feel confused and drained in your relationship.

    Types of Abuse

    1. Emotional: This includes manipulation, gaslighting, blame-shifting, name-calling, silent treatment, shaming, guilt-tripping, and constant criticism. Emotional abuse chips away at your self-esteem and causes deep, lasting wounds.
    2. Psychological: This form of abuse includes mind games, threats, isolation, intimidation, and using fear to control your actions. It causes you to doubt your reality and can lead to anxiety, depression, and trauma responses.
    3. Physical: This involves any bodily harm or threat of harm: hitting, slapping, choking, shoving, restraining, or throwing things. But it can also include blocking doorways, invading personal space aggressively, or destroying your belongings.
    4. Sexual: This includes any unwanted sexual contact or coercion, even within a committed relationship. Consent is key. If you’re being pressured, manipulated, or forced into sexual acts, that’s abuse.
    5. Financial: This includes controlling all the money, limiting your access to funds, sabotaging your employment, or using money as a weapon to manipulate or trap you.
    6. Spiritual: This occurs when someone twists faith, Scripture, or religious beliefs to justify their control or mistreatment. It can involve guilt, fear, shame, and the misuse of spiritual authority.

    Common Signs You May Be in an Abusive Relationship

    • You’re constantly apologizing, even when you’ve done nothing wrong.
    • You feel like you can never do anything right in their eyes.
    • You’re afraid of how they’ll react if you disagree or express your needs.
    • You hide parts of your relationship from others to protect their image, or because you feel embarrassed.
    • They blame you for their anger, moods, or abusive behaviour.
    • You walk on eggshells trying not to upset them.
    • They isolate you from friends, family, or support systems.
    • They control aspects of your life—what you wear, who you talk to, and how you spend money.
    • You feel drained, anxious, depressed, or like you’ve lost yourself.
    • You’ve begun to question your memory or sanity, especially when they deny things you know happened (gaslighting).
    • They minimize your feelings or accuse you of being “too sensitive.”
    • You no longer feel safe—emotionally, physically, or spiritually.

    You Don’t Have to Check Every Box

    One of the biggest misconceptions about abuse is that it only “counts” if every sign or behaviour is present. That’s simply not true.

    It doesn’t have to be every behaviour for it to be abuse. Even one repeated pattern of manipulation, control, or cruelty is enough. Abuse doesn’t require a long list of offences—it only requires a dynamic where one person consistently uses power to diminish the other.

    Some abusers are explosive and aggressive. Others are quiet, covert, and calculating. You might be confused because they aren’t “always” unkind, or because they’ve never laid a hand on you. But love that harms, controls, confuses, or depletes you is unhealthy, no matter how it’s packaged.

    You don’t need to justify your pain by comparing it to someone else’s story. You don’t need to wait until things get worse. If something feels wrong, heavy, or unsafe, trust your gut. That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.

    You deserve to be in a relationship where love doesn’t hurt, respect isn’t conditional, and you aren’t left questioning your worth.

    Abuse Is About Patterns—Not Just Isolated Incidents

    It’s important to remember that abuse is not about a bad day or a single argument. Every relationship has conflict. But abuse is a pattern—a repeated and escalating cycle of harm, apology, manipulation, and control.

    You might be in a honeymoon phase, where things feel “good again.” That doesn’t erase the harm that’s already been done. Abuse follows a predictable cycle: tension building, explosive event, apology or excuses, and a temporary calm. But unless there is accountability, repentance, and actual change (rare without serious professional intervention), the cycle usually repeats—and worsens over time.

    Abuse Thrives in Silence and Secrecy

    One of the most excellent tools of an abuser is isolation. You may be told not to talk to anyone about your relationship. You may be led to believe that no one will believe you, or that you’re the problem. These are lies meant to keep you silent.

    Please know this: You are not crazy, you are not alone, and you are not to blame.

    What If You’re Still Not Sure?

    If you’re still questioning whether what you’re experiencing is abuse, that in itself is worth paying attention to. Healthy relationships don’t leave you confused, fearful, or questioning your worth. If your relationship feels heavy, toxic, or unsafe, trust your gut. Don’t dismiss your intuition just because they haven’t hit you or because it says all the “right” things.

    You might consider speaking with a trauma-informed therapist or advocate. Many domestic violence shelters offer confidential support, even if you’re not ready to leave. Just talking to someone who understands can help you gain clarity.

    Final Thoughts

    Recognizing abuse is the first step toward healing and freedom. If you see yourself in these words, take a deep breath and remind yourself that it’s okay to ask questions, to want more, and to protect your peace.

    Abuse doesn’t always leave visible scars. But emotional, psychological, and spiritual wounds are just as real and deserving of care and healing.

    You are worthy of love that is safe, kind, respectful, and free of fear. That kind of love does exist—and it starts with the love you show yourself by recognizing the truth and taking steps toward healing.

    If you need help or want to talk to someone confidentially:

    • In Canada: ShelterSafe.ca
    • In the US: The Hotline – 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
    • Or reach out to a local shelter, counsellor, or trauma-informed support group

    You deserve to be safe. You deserve to be free.

  • When the Cycle Continues: Why Survivors Sometimes Face Abuse Again

    It’s a question survivors often hear: “How did this happen again?” or “Why do you keep choosing the same kind of person?” As if abuse is something anyone chooses. As if healing automatically guarantees you’ll never be hurt again.

    The truth is, many survivors of domestic violence find themselves in more than one abusive relationship—not because they’re blind, broken, or weak, but because abuse leaves deep psychological and emotional scars. Without intentional healing, those wounds can affect how survivors see themselves, how they interpret love, and what they accept in relationships in the future.

    This isn’t about blame. This is about understanding. Because only when we understand the patterns can we begin to break them.

    Abuse Changes the Way You See the World

    Surviving domestic violence changes you. It rewires your nervous system to stay in survival mode—constantly scanning for danger, trying to anticipate moods, and adjusting yourself to stay safe. You learn to minimize your needs, suppress your voice, and accept the unacceptable to get through the day.

    Over time, this becomes your normal. And when something becomes normal, it’s easy to recreate it—even without realizing it.

    You may gravitate toward people who feel “familiar,” though unhealthy. You may overlook red flags because they don’t seem alarming—just typical. And you may ignore your gut instincts because you were trained to believe your feelings weren’t valid.

    Not All Survivors Lack Discernment

    Some believe survivors have “bad judgment” or “poor discernment.” But that’s a shallow and unfair assumption. Many survivors do recognize red flags. Many are incredibly intuitive, cautious, and aware.

    But abusers are often highly skilled at manipulation. They show up wearing masks—attentive, charming, kind, and spiritual. They know how to say the right things, play the long game, and slowly isolate and control without being obvious. By the time the abuse becomes clear, the survivor may already be emotionally or financially entangled.

    It’s not about discernment. It’s about deception.

    Trauma Bonds and Cycles of Hope

    Abuse often comes in cycles—kindness followed by cruelty, apologies followed by aggression. This cycle creates what’s known as a trauma bond, a powerful psychological attachment that makes it hard to leave, even when the relationship is harmful.

    If this pattern becomes familiar, it can feel strangely comforting—even addictive. Survivors may unknowingly seek out similar dynamics, not because they enjoy the chaos, but because they’ve been conditioned to believe that love comes with pain, that affection is earned, and that they are responsible for fixing the brokenness in others.

    They may also carry an immense amount of hope that the new person will be different, hope that if they just love hard enough, they’ll finally get it right. And in that hope, they miss the warning signs.

    Shame Keeps People Silent

    Survivors who find themselves in another abusive relationship often carry deep shame. They think, “I should’ve known better.” They fear judgement. They may stay quiet out of embarrassment, fear that no one will believe them the second time, and guilt.

    This silence benefits abusers. It protects their image and keeps the survivor isolated. But shame has no place here. Abuse is never the victim’s fault—not the first time, not the second, not ever.

    When Self-Worth Has Been Shattered

    One of the most damaging effects of domestic violence is how it destroys your sense of worth. Survivors are often told they’re unlovable, too emotional, too needy, or not enough. Over time, these lies take root. And when your self-worth is in ruins, it’s hard to believe you deserve more.

    You may tolerate treatment you once would’ve walked away from. You may stay longer than you should. You may settle for crumbs, thinking that’s all you’ll ever get. But none of that reflects your value—it reflects what you’ve been through.

    You are not too broken to be loved well. You are not “damaged goods.” You are someone who has survived the unthinkable. And that strength is not a weakness—it’s a reason to keep fighting for the life and love you truly deserve.

    Healing Is the Way Out

    Breaking the cycle of abuse isn’t about simply walking away. It’s about healing what’s beneath the surface. That means:

    • Rebuilding your self-worth so you stop accepting less than you deserve.
    • Learning to trust your gut and honour your boundaries, no matter how small.
    • Understanding the dynamics of abuse so you can recognize manipulation before it takes hold.
    • Surrounding yourself with people who affirm your value, not undermine it.
    • Seeking support through therapy, advocacy groups, or other survivors who genuinely understand.

    It’s okay to take your time and to make mistakes. Healing isn’t linear—and every step forward, no matter how small, is still progress.

  • Abuse Destroys Relationships—Not the People Who Speak Up About It

    One of the most toxic lies we’ve been conditioned to believe is that speaking out about abuse is what breaks up families, friendships, marriages, churches, or communities. But let’s be clear: calling out abuse doesn’t destroy relationships—abuse does.

    When someone finally finds the courage to speak up, they’re not sowing division. They’re naming what already fractured the relationship long before anyone can discuss it. Abuse, by its very nature, is divisive. It creates fear, erodes trust, silences truth, and forces people into survival mode. When you’re constantly walking on eggshells or sacrificing your well-being to keep the peace, that’s not a relationship—it’s captivity.

    We need to stop blaming the whistleblower for the sound the whistle makes.

    It takes immense bravery to call abuse what it is. Most people who speak up have already endured far more than anyone realizes. They’ve stayed silent for too long, hoping things would change. They’ve tried harder, prayed harder, and forgiven more times than they can count. Speaking up is never the first step—it’s often the last straw.

    Healthy relationships don’t fall apart when someone sets a boundary or shares their pain. They grow stronger. Real love welcomes accountability. Real love says, “If I’ve hurt you, I want to make it right.” It doesn’t gaslight, deny, minimize, or flip the blame back onto the person who’s hurting.

    But abusers don’t want restoration—they want control. And when that control is threatened by truth, they panic. They’ll twist the narrative, weaponize Scripture, and turn others against the one who dared to speak. And tragically, too many people believe them, especially when the abuser seems charming, respected, or influential.

    So let’s be honest: when a relationship ends because abuse has been exposed, it didn’t end because someone spoke up. It ended because someone chose to hurt, manipulate, or control, and refused to take responsibility.

    Silencing victims doesn’t save relationships. It only protects abusers.

    If you’ve spoken out and lost people because of it, I want you to know: you didn’t ruin anything. You didn’t destroy the family. You didn’t break the church. You didn’t cause the divorce. Abuse did that. Your truth just revealed what was already broken.

    And if you’re someone watching from the outside, don’t mistake silence for peace. Don’t side with the one who “kept it together” over the one who finally broke down. Sometimes, it takes everything a person has to speak the truth out loud.

    We must stop equating exposure with division and recognize that truth is the beginning of healing. Relationships built on lies will crumble when the truth comes out, but relationships rooted in love will endure it.

    Abuse destroys. Truth reveals. Healing begins when someone has the courage to say, “No more.”

    Let’s stand with the ones who are brave enough to speak, not shame them for refusing to stay silent, because the only thing more painful than being abused is not being believed when you finally speak up.

  • It Could Happen to Anyone: The Truth About Abuse and Who It Affects

    She’s educated, faithful, independent, kind, strong, and successful. She posts pictures of her children and quotes from her morning devotions. She helps her friends, shows up for her community, and seems to have it all together.

    And she’s being abused.

    We have to talk about this.

    There’s a persistent myth—spoken or unspoken—that women who end up in abusive relationships are somehow different. That they’re needy, uneducated, unintelligent, and weak. That they didn’t see the red flags. That they should’ve known better. That they came from dysfunction and chose the same thing again. That they’re the type of woman who attracts drama.

    But those assumptions are not only wrong—they’re dangerous.

    Abuse doesn’t target a personality type. It’s not reserved for the broken or the insecure. I’ve seen abuse happen to some of the strongest, most capable, most spiritually grounded women I know. Women who lead ministries. Women who mentor others. Women who are deeply self-aware and incredibly accomplished. Women who were told growing up that they’d be safe if they prayed enough, were kind enough, and followed all the proper steps.

    And yet it still happened.

    It happened to them, and it happened to me.

    Abuse doesn’t knock on your door wearing a warning label. It often shows up dressed as love. It looks like charm, generosity, and promises that feel too good to be true, because they are. It builds slowly. Subtly. It starts with little compromises, small apologies, moments you explain away. Until suddenly, you’re second-guessing everything. You’re isolated, confused, exhausted, and wondering how someone who once made you feel special now makes you feel so small.

    By the time most women realize they’re in something dangerous, they’re already deep in it—emotionally, financially, sometimes legally. They’re trauma-bonded. They’re terrified. They’re hopeful it will change. They’re trying to keep their children safe. And most of all, they’re trying to survive while being judged for not leaving fast enough.

    I’ve heard it all.”She must not have much self-esteem.”She probably came from abuse herself.”I’d never let someone treat me that way.”She must’ve seen the signs and chose to stay anyway.”

    But here’s the truth: abuse doesn’t just happen to “those women.” It happens to women who once believed it never would. Women who thought they were too bright, stable, strong, and successful. Women like you.

    The only thing all survivors have in common is that someone chose to abuse them. That’s it.

    It’s not about weakness—it’s about manipulation. It’s not about intelligence—it’s about how well abusers hide who they are until they’ve gained control. It’s not about poor choices—how deeply someone can be gaslit, isolated, and broken down over time.

    If we keep clinging to these stereotypes about who ends up in abusive relationships, we’re harming ourselves. We’re making it harder for victims to come forward. We’re reinforcing shame. We’re keeping people silent.

    The truth is, anyone can find themselves in an abusive relationship. And no one—no one—deserves it.

    When we stop judging and start listening, when we stop asking, “Why didn’t she leave?” and start asking, “What made her feel she couldn’t?”—we begin to shift the narrative.

    We create space for healing, offer dignity, and create a safer world for survivors to step into when they finally say, “I need help.”

    I write this not just as an advocate, but as a survivor. I believed I was too grounded, faith-filled, and discerning for something like this to happen to me. But it did. And the most healing truth I discovered was this: it wasn’t my fault.

    And if it happened to you, it wasn’t your fault either.

    Let’s stop believing the myths. Let’s start believing the people who lived them.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • 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.