Revealing the Truth: Love or Control Dynamics
Relationships can be complicated, and sometimes what looks like love can actually be control in disguise. It often doesn’t start with red flags - it begins with subtle shifts, moments that might feel like care or concern. But over time, the balance tips, and what seemed thoughtful and loving starts to feel suffocating.
This is Ella’s story, and while everyone’s experience is unique, it captures how control can creep into relationships under the guise of love.
Emotional Abuse: A Slow, Insidious Beginnning
The Perfect Start
When I was 18 years old, I had just graduated from high school and was about to start university. I met a guy and fell in love with him. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world; everything fell into place. He was a bit older than me, confident and charming. Everything I imagined a gentleman to be. He opened doors for me, moved chairs, listened to me and said I was clever and funny. Within a month, he met my family. They were polite towards him, but something in their behaviour was different. I found out later that they had never liked him in the first place.
But I was smitten. Slowly, my world began to revolve around him. My friends faded into the background because he didn’t like them and said they were childish and immature. I started spending more and more time at his house, so much so that it became my new normal. My independence dwindled without me even realising it.
The First Warning Sign
It wasn’t until six months in that I saw a side of him I hadn’t before. My old car needed expensive repairs, so I asked my mum for help. She generously covered the $2,000 repair bill.
When I told him about it, his reaction was shocking. He accused my mother of sabotaging our relationship and undermining him. He made me feel like I had betrayed him because I had asked my mum to help me out. He didn’t want me to turn to anyone else, especially my parents, for help. He made me feel bad for asking her for help which he said was undermining our relationship.
To avoid another argument, I promised I wouldn’t go to her again for anything, wordlessly agreeing to cut off the one person who had always been there for me.
I should have left him there and then. But I didn’t. I thought I could fix things, that this explosion was a one-off.
It wasn’t.
Control Masquerading as Care
What followed was a slow, steady shift in how he treated me. At first, it felt like he cared a lot about me, but soon it became clear that he was more concerned with control.
He began monitoring what I ate, making comments about my weight and telling me I needed to be healthier. What seemed like concern at first quickly turned into pressure. He pushed me into going on 10km runs every day, making it sound like it was for my own good. But it wasn’t about my health - it was about him deciding what was “good” for me. Every run was a reminder that I wasn’t good enough the way I was.
Even at night, he found ways to control me. He began tucking me into bed under the guise of ensuring I was well-rested. Initially, it felt sweet and thoughtful. But over time, I realised it was all part of his plan to keep me quiet and under his control, like a toy he could put away and take out whenever he wanted.
When affection becomes control.
Next was my wardrobe. He didn’t like the way I dressed and made it clear he thought I could dress better. He began swapping out my clothes for ones he preferred, picking out outfits that suited his taste, not mine. It wasn’t just about the clothes - it was about taking over how I expressed myself. Every new outfit felt like I was losing a little more of who I was.
My faith became his next target. He never shared my beliefs and made his disdain clear. He would incessantly question me, making me feel as if I was in the wrong for my convictions. Gradually, he manipulated me into abandoning my faith completely, claiming it was for my growth as an enlightened individual. But I now understand that it wasn't about enlightenment - it was about breaking down an integral part of who I was.
At first, it was easy to brush off these changes as small things or even signs of love, but when I think about it now, it’s clear they weren’t. He wasn’t just changing what I ate, wore, or believed. He was slowly taking away pieces of me - one decision at a time - until I didn’t feel like myself anymore.
Whenever I mustered the courage to talk about how his behaviour made me feel, I’d leave the conversation doubting myself. Somehow, he always turned the tables, convincing me I was overreacting. I walked on eggshells, terrified of triggering his anger.
I was still living with my parents at the time, but he kept pushing me to spend more and more time at his house. At first, I thought it was because he wanted to be close to me, but over time, the pressure grew heavier. He started making comments about how it was ‘ridiculous’ for someone my age to still be living at home and how much better things would be if we lived together. He’d say I needed to ‘grow up’ and stop relying on my parents.
I could see that my parents were uncomfortable with the way he was pulling me away from them, but I justified it to myself. I told myself that I was just doing what was expected of me as an adult. What hurt the most was the guilt that began to creep in whenever I wanted to spend time with my family. It felt like I was letting him down or being selfish. Gradually, I started spending more and more time at his house, further away from my family, and I began to lose touch with who I was outside of our relationship.
My parents noticed the change. I wasn’t the same happy, outgoing girl they knew. They asked questions, but I stayed silent, protective of him despite my growing unhappiness. They didn’t understand, and their confusion came out in comments like, “Why doesn’t he just stay here if he cares so much about you?” or “Why does he need to be so involved? You’re not a child.” At the time, their remarks made me defensive. I dismissed my parents as being overprotective or stuck in traditional ways of thinking.
Looking back now, I see things differently. My parents were worried for a good reason. Their intuition sensed what I was unwilling to acknowledge: his supposed care was not born from love but rather an insatiable need for control.
The Breaking Point
The day I finally snapped started like any other, except this time I was at my parents’ house. I had decided to study for my exams there because when I was at his place, he would constantly disrupt me. That day, he called, asking to meet for lunch, but I was deep in study and declined. His persistence quickly escalated into demands. For the first time, something in me pushed back. I had to focus on my exams, so I told him we needed to take a break.
His response? He said he would drive over to "fix" things. Panic set in. In a moment of overwhelming pressure, I blurted out, "If you come, I’ll drive to the hospital and admit myself. I can’t handle this anymore."
Why the hospital? It wasn’t like I’d planned to end up there. But in that moment, it felt like the only way out. I didn’t know where else to go or what else to say to make him understand how desperate I felt. The hospital symbolised a place of safety - somewhere I could escape the chaos of my thoughts, a physical space where I wouldn’t be forced to make decisions or have to keep fighting. The thought of being admitted made me feel like I could finally get a break, a pause from the suffocating emotional whirlwind. It was the last place I could think of to get some relief, even if it meant I was only pretending to take control of my life.
He didn’t believe me. Then I heard his car engine rev over the phone. Heart pounding, I grabbed my keys, bolted barefoot to my car, and drove off. He followed me all the way to the hospital, intercepting me in the parking lot.
There, standing in the parking lot with tears streaming down my face, I caved. He promised to change, to start fresh. I wanted to believe him, to hold on to the hope of the relationship I thought we had at the beginning. But, as it always went, nothing changed.
The second time I tried to leave, he threatened to kill himself. And so, I stayed.
Finding Freedom
The turning point came during a candid moment with my parents. After a gruelling run with him, I confessed everything. My parents listened quietly, then asked one question: “Do you want to be with him?”
“No,” I whispered.
The next morning, my dad called him and told him to never contact me again.
For the first time in months, I felt a weight lift. It was as if I could finally breathe. My mind, once clouded with doubt and anxiety, began to clear.
The Scars of Emotional Abuse
Emotional abuse doesn’t leave visible bruises, but the scars run deep. For a long time, I struggled with anxiety, low self-esteem, and nervous habits. His manipulation had convinced me I was losing my grip on reality, a tactic known as gaslighting.
Even now, I occasionally catch myself doubting my decisions. But with time and intentional healing, I’ve rebuilt my life.
Finding Myself Again
Realising that what was happening to me was abuse was the first step in helping myself. I was not crazy or overreacting- I was in an emotionally abusive relationship, and knowing this gave me clarity and validation.
Talking about my experience with friends, family, or others who have been in similar situations has made me feel stronger. I hope that by sharing my story, I can help others who may feel trapped.
I also started practising mindfulness to help with my anxiety. Grounding techniques have been very useful for me, and I use a mindfulness app for guided breathing exercises and positive affirmations to combat negative thoughts.
Rebuilding my support system has been important for me. Surrounding myself with people who lift me up and understand me has been so helpful. They remind me of my worth and provide perspective when I am struggling.
Seeking therapy was also an important step for me. Working with a therapist has given me tools to process my trauma and regain my confidence. Engaging in self-care activities such as journaling, exercising, or simply taking time to rest has been my lifeline.
Therapist’s Perspective: Understanding Emotional Abuse
Ella's story reflects how emotional abuse often begins subtly, creeping into everyday interactions until the victim feels trapped. The abuser gains power by pretending to care, isolating the victim, and taking away their independence.
As Ella's story shows, emotional abuse isn't always easy to identify. Here are some common signs to watch for:
Gaslighting: Convincing someone they’re overreacting when they express hurt -“You’re so sensitive; I didn’t mean it that way”.
Isolation: Slowly discouraging time with loved ones, saying, “They don’t really care about you like I do”.
Control: Dictating daily decisions, like choosing what you wear or spend money on.
Emotional Blackmail: Using threats, like, “If you leave, I’ll hurt myself”.
The impact of emotional abuse can be severe, resulting in feelings of anxiety, depression, and a sense of losing yourself. Survivors like Ella often carry scars in the form of chronic self-doubt, low self-esteem, and hesitation to trust again.
Breaking free from emotional abuse can feel overwhelming, but you can heal. With support from trusted friends, family, or a therapist, you can rebuild your confidence, reconnect with your identity, and create a future free from control and manipulation.
Breaking the Cycle
If Ella’s story resonates with you remember that you’re not alone. The first step to breaking free from abuse is to acknowledge it and get support.
Here are some steps you can take:
Talk to someone you trust or reach out to a helpline for help and guidance.
Set Boundaries Safely. It’s important to take back your space and protect your feelings, but safety comes first. Reach out to a support helpline - they’re a great source of advice and often have helpful resources on their websites. Look for one near you to get the right support.
Seek Professional Help. Consider seeking help from a therapist to work through the psychological effects of abuse
Prioritise Self-Care: Reconnect with what brings you joy and peace.
Focus on looking after yourself and do things that bring you happiness and inner peace.
A Message of Hope
Today, Ella lives a life filled with love and respect, free from the shadows of her past.
Healing can happen, and even though the road may be tough, the end goal - living a life free of abuse - is worth the struggle.
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic or family violence, call 1800RESPECT at 1800 737 732 or visit 1800RESPECT.org.au. Help is always available.
About Safe Space Counselling Services
At Safe Space Counselling Services, I specialise in helping women navigate the emotional wounds of trauma and rebuild their self-worth. If you’re ready to explore your patterns, heal old wounds, and create a life filled with the love you truly deserve, I’d love to hear from you.
📧 Email me at kat@safespacecounsellingservices.com.au
📞 Call or text: 0452 285 526
