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⚠️Trigger Warning‼️ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 @𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞.m

🚩Red Flag Diaries🚩
1.29.22

Strangulation is Abuse

For the longest time, I told myself he “held me down by my throat.” That was 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭. My therapist made me say it out loud.

He strangled me.

I remember this day in Delray Beach like it was yesterday. Most of the physical abuse happened on vacations, in hotel rooms — places with no witnesses. Most of the evidence lived on a phone that was later destroyed. That’s what I now understand as 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐕𝐒. 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 — 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐯𝐬. 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬.

This time, I thought we were going to have a calm getaway.

We went to dinner. When we arrived, I was told his dealer would be joining us. I sat there overwhelmed and started crying. I told him I was leaving and going back to the hotel.

He stood up immediately. The other person followed. Outside, he apologized for me — called me a fing b*. That’s 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐄 / 𝐃𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲.

We walked back to the hotel. He stayed about 15 yards ahead of me the entire time, like I didn’t exist. That’s 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭.

At one point, I stopped behind a jeep just to see how far he would go without noticing I wasn’t there. He made it all the way to the crosswalk, looked back, threw his hands up and kept walking. I took my time getting back.

When I got to the room, he was on the patio smoking. I went into the bathroom and took my makeup off. When I came back out, he was on the bed, facing the wall, in a fetal position, pretending to be asleep.

I reached into the nightstand to grab something.

In the next instant, I was grabbed by my throat.

He lifted me completely off the ground, feet in the air, and slammed me onto the bed between his legs. His hand was around my neck. My body was dangling off the side.

That is 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰. 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥.

He was screaming in my face:
“Are you going through my s***?”
“You fing b*.”
“Are you going through my s***, you c***?”

That’s 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞.

I remember looking into his eyes. There was nothing there. No soul. Just anger.

I told him what I was doing. It was like he snapped back for a second.

He let go.

My body slithered to the floor.

Then he started screaming again, telling me to get out. “Get the f*** out.” “Get out of my hotel room.” Threatening to throw my belongings off the balcony.

That’s 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 — 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭.
That pattern is also known as 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐎 — 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲, 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫.

I pretended to call the police. That’s when he panicked, getting rid of “things” I didn’t even know were there.

I called the hotel concierge. They came and helped me pack. They told me I should call the police.

I didn’t.

I got in my car and went somewhere safe. I took a hot shower. I slept.

The next day, I went home.

I told a few people.

And within a few weeks, I went back.

That’s 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 — 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

He later tried to explain it, saying it was something he was used to from his past, that he had to always be on guard. That’s 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲.

That explanation never changed what happened.

For the last seven months, I didn’t want to go through my phone. I knew what was in there.

Pictures. Memories. Proof.

Fake smiles. “Good times.” Moments that looked normal on the outside, but I knew what was happening behind closed doors. So did my child.

I lived years of lies.

And I let those photos sit there untouched because I wasn’t ready to face it.

Until recently.

I finally found the courage to go through them. To look. To face it. To delete what I had been avoiding.

And I realized I had an entire album saved.

Labeled one word: Abuse.

I remember creating it. I knew enough to document it, even if I wasn’t ready to fully see it.

That’s 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭.

Those pictures aren’t just memories.

They’re evidence.

I want to say something clearly.

I was not perfect. I was drinking. I was partying. I had my own unhealed trauma.

But I was never violent. Yelling, screaming, pushing buttons, throwing shoes in a toilet, hammering off a doorknod to gain access to my things. COERCIVE CONTROL RESPONSE and no I’m not proud of those things, but I have dealt with them and moved forward.

I never put my hands on anyone. And I never deserved to have someone put their hands on me.

Not once. Not ever.

No amount of trauma, no amount of drinking, no amount of dysfunction makes abuse acceptable.

Nothing I did deserved that.

Strangulation is not “being held down.”

If someone puts their hands on your throat, lifts you, or restricts your breathing, that is strangulation.

It is one of the most dangerous forms of abuse. 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛use. It is a significant predictor of future lethal violence.

gest time, I told myself he “held me down by my throat.” That was 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭. My therapist made me say it out loud.

Comments are turned off on this post.

This is not an open discussion. This is not something I’m here to relive.

I’ve already done that.

I’ve done the therapy. I’ve faced it. And I’ve healed.

Red Flag Diaries is me sharing my experiences when they come to me, from a place of clarity, not survival.

I’m not here to debate it, defend it, or explain it repeatedly.

This is for awareness.

If it helps even one person see things clearly, then I’ve done my job.

All names and identifying details have been removed.

For a long time, I minimized it.

Now I don’t.

Comments are turned off on this post.

This is not an open discussion. This is not something I’m here to relive.

I’ve already done that.

I’ve done the therapy. I’ve faced it. And I’ve healed.

Red Flag Diaries is me sharing my experiences when they come to me, from a place of clarity, not survival.

I’m not here to debate it, defend it, or explain it repeatedly.

This is for awareness.

If it helps even one person see things clearly, then I’ve done my job.

All names and identifying details have been removed

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