The Fear Ends Here

People think the hardest part of leaving is making the decision. But the truth is, the hardest part is sticking to it.

It’s the constant repeating: “No, it’s over.”

It’s the exhaustion of having the same conversation again and again with someone who refuses to hear you.

It’s waking up drained because you know he will try, yet again, to break you down.

And then there’s the guilt. The guilt of saying no to someone who swears they love you. The guilt of seeing them cry, or beg, or promise to change. The guilt of hurting them, even though they have hurt you over and over again.

From the outside, people don’t understand this guilt. They’ve seen the names, the cruelty, the years of control. They see the pain he has caused me, and they can’t understand how I could possibly feel sorry for him. Honestly, I don’t understand it myself. How can I feel heartbreak for someone who has treated me this way? What is wrong with me?

And then there are the doubts he plants. He tells me I won’t make it on my own, that I won’t have the money to afford a house or to live. Those words stick. They swirl around in my head late at night, making me question if he’s right. Is he my safety net? Or is he just the cage I’ve been trapped in? His voice feeds the fear of what life will be like by myself, and sometimes that fear feels louder than my own strength.

But that’s what abuse does. It twists love into something unrecognisable. It keeps you tied to the hope of the person you thought he was, while battling the reality of who he is. It leaves you feeling guilty for protecting yourself, and fearful of whether you’re strong enough to stand alone.

What I am learning is this: every time I say no, I am standing up for myself. I am standing up for my children. I am showing them that love is not supposed to hurt, and that respect matters.

They need to see me hold my boundaries, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

So yes, I feel guilty. I feel exhausted. I sometimes wonder how much more I have in me. But every no I speak is a step closer to freedom. Every no is a reminder that I deserve more than pain dressed up as love.

The guilt will fade. The exhaustion will pass. The fear will lessen. And the strength of standing my ground — that will last.

The Fear Ends Here. I Choose Me.

🌸 To any woman reading this who feels the same guilt or fear:

You are not weak for doubting yourself — it means his control is working the way it’s designed to. But that fear and guilt are not proof that you can’t make it. They are signs of how much strength it takes to leave. You are capable. You are stronger than you know. And you are not alone.