“The first step in change is awareness. The second step is acceptance. ~Nathaniel Brandon
I distinctly remember one morning when my son was five years old. My husband wants to leave the country we live in again, this time to escape what he sees as the imminent collapse of society due to the coronavirus.
After years of constant moving, I was finally starting to build a circle of friends, my son was settling in at school, and I was starting to feel some sense of normalcy. But he couldn’t stand it. My growing independence seemed threatening to him, and I could sense his uneasiness.
His anxiety about the evolving COVID-19 situation only seems to exacerbate his need for control. “We need to leave the country now before they close the border forever,” he said, nervously approaching me in the kitchen. His voice was sharp and urgent. I knew that he hoped that moving us to a non-English speaking country would not only deepen my isolation, but also make me completely dependent on him again.
“No, I don’t want to move anymore,” I answered cautiously. My heart raced as I braced myself for his reaction. I’ve been in this situation countless times before, and a simple “no” can cause a firestorm.
Sure enough, the guilt started immediately. “You care more about your friends than your own family,” he growled, his words dripping with contempt. “You’re just selfish, and you’re too afraid to see the truth.” He knew exactly How to control my emotions and make me feel small.
He’s been harassing me about this move for weeks, stalking me around the house and bombarding me with articles about “government control.” Ultimately, he involved our son in the manipulation. “Wouldn’t you like to move to a warm country with lots of beaches?” he asked our children. “Tell mom how much you want to go.”
The high price of “no”
The cost of saying “no” is always too high. It wasn’t just that I was exhausted defending my decisions, it was his way of targeting my self-worth. He accused me of being too weak, too scared, to live a full life, and of hurting our son by denying him the experiences he felt were crucial to his development.
“If you don’t agree, I will take our son and leave without you,” he threatened, leaving me feeling cornered. There is no room for compromise—only surrender.
In these moments, my identity became tethered to his criticism, and I began to internalize the belief that my needs and desires were not worthy of consideration. My self-worth eroded with every encounter, and I began to question whether I was worthy of the stability and independence I craved.
The silent battle of coercive control
At the time, I did not realize that I was living in a coercively controlled environment. This form of abuse is often subtle, insidious, and profound, characterized by a pattern of manipulation designed to deprive the victim of her autonomy and self-worth.
Coercive control does not always manifest itself through physical violence, which makes it difficult for victims to recognize it as abuse. Instead, it erodes your personal freedom, your ability to make decisions, and ultimately your sense of self.
Saying “no” in a coercive relationship is like striking a match near gasoline. Abusers thrive on control, and when that control is threatened, they will stop at nothing to regain it. For me, this meant enduring relentless abuse from my husband who attacked my intelligence, character, and motherhood.
When insults don’t work, he turns to emotional manipulation, saying things like, “I just want to do what’s best for our family. Why are you so against it?” When emotional appeals fail, he reminds me of his financial strength. , making sure I realized I was completely dependent on Him.
I used to think that if I could explain my reasoning clearly enough, he would understand. But abusers don’t operate from logic or empathy, but from power and control. My refusal not only inconvenienced him; This was a direct challenge to his authority.
When “no” feels impossible
What many people don’t understand is that saying “no” to an abuser is not only difficult, but dangerous. While my husband never physically harmed me, the psychological torment was equally devastating. Saying “no” was never worth the emotional consequences—the days of walking on thin ice, the cold stares, and the endless lectures designed to break me down.
As domestic violence expert Evan Stark explains, “Coercive control is when the abuser establishes in the victim’s mind the cost of her resistance.” As far as I’m concerned, every “no” comes with a Come the whirlwind of accusations, guilt, and threats. His constant manipulation made me feel like resisting was an insurmountable risk, causing me to internalize the belief that my resistance would only cause more harm.
take back my power
It took me many years to understand that saying “no” in a coercive relationship was more than just a decision. It was a matter of power. Every time I give in, I give up more of my autonomy. But everything changed when I was once again faced with the prospect of moving to another country. Something clicked. I started reaching out to friends and family – something I had never dared to do before. I began to recognize patterns of abuse that controlled my life.
The turning point came when I started seeing a therapist. She helped me unpack the manipulation I had been living with and understand my situation. For the first time, I understood the depth of the emotional toll it took on me. It became increasingly clear that I could not continue in an environment where my needs were consistently ignored and my well-being was compromised.
Ultimately, I decided to leave my abusive marriage. It wasn’t easy, but I realized leaving was the only way to prioritize my safety and get my life back. The thought of remaining in a situation that would leave me permanently isolated and dependent became unbearable, and I knew that regaining my freedom would begin with this crucial decision.
Lessons for those still fighting
I remember countless times thinking, “If I avoid confrontation, everything will be fine.” I often obeyed silently, not because I agreed, but because it felt safer to keep the peace. But over time, I realized that this approach eroded not only my autonomy, but also my self-worth. If you find yourself in a similar situation, know that it’s possible to take small steps to regain your autonomy.
Building internal resilience is one of the first ways to do this. Even if saying “no” out loud feels too dangerous, you can start by protecting yourself emotionally. When my husband put me down, I would mentally counter his words, affirm my worth, and tell myself, “I know my worth, but that’s not what it is.” Over time, I began to compare His hurtful words to Separating my inner truth and finding my sense of self from within.
You may also consider setting smaller, manageable boundaries. Look for moments when you can say “no” to small requests that are unlikely to elicit a significant response. You don’t have to stand up for yourself in every situation. Start with boundaries that feel comfortable and build from there. It’s not about winning every battle, it’s about taking back the power that has been taken away, step by step.
when it becomes a matter of survival
The truth is, when saying “no” doesn’t feel safe, it might be time to question whether staying in the relationship is really an option. If even the smallest boundaries lead to verbal aggression or threats, your emotional and psychological safety may be at risk. I know how easy it is to convince yourself that abuse is manageable—that by avoiding certain triggers, you can stay calm. But what I learned is this: When you can’t safely say “no,” it’s no longer a matter of conflict, it’s a matter of survival.
If you find yourself feeling increasingly anxious or fearful, it may be time to consider leaving. I know the decision to leave can be overwhelming, but regaining your autonomy is vital to protecting your mental health. Sometimes, leaving isn’t an immediate, all-or-nothing decision, but a gradual process. Gathering resources, building a support network, and carefully planning your exit can be small but important acts of self-care.
Ultimately, the journey to freedom begins with knowing your own worth. The first step is to admit that you deserve more than a life lived in fear or doubt. For me, it’s not about trying to repair the relationship or hoping that my husband will change. It’s about prioritizing myself and my children.
You deserve to feel safe, valued, and loved—both by yourself and by others. This realization may not come overnight, but accepting the reality of your situation, even if it’s painful, is the beginning of true freedom and self-worth.
About Samara Knight
Samara Knight is an author, researcher, and survivor who advocates for people to recognize and escape coercive control and emotional abuse. Her work is fueled by her personal experiences in high-control groups and a twelve-year forced marriage. She has a BA in Psychology and ongoing research for an MSc in Coercive Control Psychology, where she runs control shadowa website dedicated to sharing personal narratives and professional insights into coercive control. Find Samara on Twitter and Facebook.
