Trigger Warning:
This post discusses emotional and psychological abuse, including within family relationships. Please read with care and prioritize your safety and well-being. If any part of this feels overwhelming, it is okay to pause, step away, and/or seek support.
Loving an abuser is easy. They position their gifts and presence as genuine. They have mastered the art of manipulation. They know you well, your weaknesses, your fears, and they use simple words to disarm you.
But in reality, they love the idea of you. They love how you make them feel. They love how you nourish their ego and compensate for their shortcomings. They love what they can take from you and how much control you have allowed them to maintain.
And when you pause to think about it, is that really love?
Love does not groom.
Love does not abuse.
Love does not threaten.
Love does not belittle or compare.
Love does not send hurtful messages or expose you publicly.
Love does not wish harm on you under the disguise of religion.
At first, you may be oblivious to the abuse if it is anything other than physical. Emotional control, psychological pressure, and subtle fear do not announce themselves loudly. They arrive quietly, disguised as concern, passion, protection, or devotion.
And then the manipulation begins.
Once you become aware that you are being manipulated and abused, and you can do so safely, you run.
RUN
Create a plan and run.
And if physical escape is not immediately possible, create distance. Establish firm boundaries. Seek therapy. Seek professional guidance to help rebuild your mind, your confidence, and your sense of self.
When patterns of control, emotional harm, or manipulation remain unchanged, proximity becomes unsafe. Distance becomes the only way to protect your peace, your growth, and your life. This is not a rejection of family. It is an affirmation that your life deserves safety too.
Distance is not cruelty.
It is clarity.
It is the boundary that keeps you alive, whole, and free.
Loving someone does not require proximity, silence, or the sacrifice of your peace. You can love an abuser from a distance. I use the word love loosely here, especially in cases of parental abuse. We are taught to honor our mother and father, and scripture promises long life in return. But when that love is met with threats, emotional harm, and unspeakable behaviors, finding that love becomes complicated and painful.
This is often the hardest truth to accept. We are taught that family should always have access to us, no matter the cost. When harm comes from the people who raised you, the confusion is layered with guilt, obligation, and the hope that love will eventually correct what boundaries could not.
As a witness, I want you to know this: they will not change.
Who they are is who they are.
You are not the exception.
You are not the special sibling.
The abuse will reach you.
And it will reach your children.
The healthiest choice is to seek professional support and, if possible, find solace with siblings or a trusted community that understands your experience.
Stop giving your abuser access to you.
Distance from parents can feel like betrayal, even when it is necessary. It can feel like grief without a funeral. Like mourning something that still exists but cannot be reached safely. Choosing space does not mean you lack love, gratitude, or respect. It means you are no longer negotiating your well-being.
Abusers often try to return. They reappear when you are tired, vulnerable, or nostalgic. They show up when you have healed, when your life feels lighter, when your boundaries are no longer visible to them. Time passes. Forgiveness softens your memory. You begin to hope they have changed.
They have not.
Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is love yourself more than the version of love you were taught to survive. Healing does not always look like forgiveness. Healing does not include access. Sometimes healing looks like restraint. Sometimes it looks like choosing peace over explanation. Sometimes it seems like walking away without closure and trusting that your safety is reason enough.
What I have observed is this: childhood treatment shapes who we become as adults. It influences our confidence, our boundaries, and who we allow to love us. Often, the pattern continues. You align yourself with partners who mirror the behavior of your parents. You chase love that requires performance. You become a people pleaser, believing approval must be earned through overgiving.
I could say more about breaking these cycles and healing these wounds, but this is where professionals should lead.
If you are reading this and it feels familiar, know this:
Awareness is not weakness.
Distance is not failure.
Choosing yourself is not selfish.
It is the beginning of your return.
It is the healing of your inner child.
It is the safety you searched for and can now give yourself.
You deserve safety.
You deserve security.
You deserve love.
You deserve more than a life built on survival.
If you or someone you love is experiencing abuse and needs support, confidential help is available. In the U.S., you can contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or visit thehotline.org. If you are outside the U.S., local support organizations and trusted community resources can help guide you toward safety.
You deserve more than a love built on survival.
I’m so happy you’re here.
Chafeeza 
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